Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  At least if they request money, I know Mother will pay it and I might have a chance to get out of here after all. As long as these two figure out a way to get the ransom note to Mother.

  “You’re the one who’s from London, so you go. If the letter was to be delivered in Liverpool, I’d volunteer my services. Alas… in London, you know your way around,” the shorter man yelled.

  There was a silence and then the irritated voice of the Londoner relented.

  “I tell you what. You take the night shift every night until we get our money, and I will go to London.”

  “Very well. But go now. I am tired of this place. And you. And especially him.”

  Their footsteps grew faint and a door opened and closed. Zachariah wasn’t sure where he was but he felt certain it was a cabin of some sort. For, in the morning he could hear the sound of birds and trees blowing in the wind. The quietness of the surroundings further assured him that he was in the woods somewhere outside of London, somewhere near his home. Somewhere near the Gentle Rose.

  With his thoughts once again traveling to Melody Balfour, he got up. It was a struggle to hop to the table and sitting down was almost as difficult with his feet tied together. When at last he sat, he peered at the meal in front of him.

  “Dearest Melody. How I miss our conversations. And Miss Lovell’s delicious meals. What I wouldn’t give to have you by my side, sharing a piece of apple strudel, or a banger.”

  Melancholy overcame him as he reached for the wooden spoon on the tray. Dipping it into the pottage, he forced himself to stay positive. He had to keep his strength up because if something went wrong, if the ransom was not paid soon, he would have to make a run for it. He’d have to find a way to escape.

  And for that, he needed his strength. He maneuvered the spoon into his mouth and swallowed the salty pottage, imagining it was Miss Lovell’s delicious white soup. Just as he had transported himself back to the Gentle Rose Inn in his mind, the tallow candle beside him flickered, clinging to the last of the wax before burning out.

  He found himself in darkness once more, and the loneliness of it all descended upon him, crushing all of his positive intentions.

  Chapter 29

  “Mr. Ridlington, it has been four days. There has been no progress at all. What are your hired men doing? Perhaps we ought to call in more help.”

  Caleb shook his head as he sat beside the Duchess in the drawing room. “They are doing all they can. I assure you, Your Grace. I was with them until late last night, going from house to house. We are covering the area between here and London. He will be found.”

  The truth was, Caleb wasn’t so sure. With each hour he lost more and more hope. With each day that turned into night, the chances of finding Zachariah faded away further. He’d thought again and again about Miss Lovell and Miss Balfour’s words, and Obadiah Caney did appear the most likely suspect. However, the men who’d spent weeks looking for him came up just as empty as the ones he’d engaged to look for Zachariah.

  “They are all being paid good money. They had better make it worth the cost,” the Duchess said, causing Caleb to narrow his eyes. Money, he felt, was not going to be an issue. He knew very well what the Dukedom was worth, given that he was in charge of the books.

  “They are, I assure you.”

  “You assure me. You continue to assure me. Meanwhile, my son is missing, and word is beginning to spread among society that he is gone. I cannot for the life of me think of any more reasons to explain his absence.”

  Caleb wetted his lips and took a sip of brandy. “Perhaps it would be wise to let it be known he’s been kidnapped. A kidnapping for a noble would be talked about far and wide and we might be able to have…”

  The Duchess raised her hand “No, we do not need to draw more attention. Zachariah has made himself a target, we both know this. To get involved with commoners in such a manner is suspect enough on its own. His reputation, the reputation of the entire family, would be sullied. I will not have that. No, we must keep the good name of the Dukedom of Sandorne intact.”

  Caleb studied the woman’s face. She was a strong character and determined in her approach to things.

  How worrying it must be for her. Not only is her son missing, he is her only child. If he were not to return, she would lose everything.

  She would be at the mercy her late husband’s brother’s grandson, the next in line to inherit the title. The boy was all of eleven years old, and with the boy’s father already passed away, who would be in charge of the estate?

  Caleb shook his head. These were not thoughts he ought to be having. There would be no cause for any of it. Zachariah would be returned, happy and healthy.

  After some consideration, Caleb had to admit the Duchess was right. If Zachariah’s peers knew that he’d been taken on account of his involvement with not just commoners, but female commoners, his entire scheme to open a University for women might be dashed. He could not allow that to happen.

  “I will ride to the village again and check with the constables and the search parties. Then I will head on to London.”

  The Duchess gave him a curt nod but said nothing, her eyes cast toward the fireplace where the embers flew and crackled. He rose and bowed before her and then turned to make his way back to the village. He craved the comfort of Miss Lovell’s company, now more so than ever.

  Melody made her way through the dining room and watched as life went on around her as if nothing happened at all. She felt as though she had cheesecloth over her head. The sounds and colors in the inn’s busy dining room seemed muted. All around her the revelers were delighted with the special menu of cod and egg balls, which Betsy had engaged her in making if for no other reason than to distract her from her worries.

  Now that the food was prepared and served, Betsy was busy preparing the warm plum cakes which were to be served as dessert. Melody made her way through the dining hall to ensure everyone was happy.

  “How about a bit of extra gravy?” Someone asked beside her and she blinked before forcing herself back into her innkeeper frame of mind. She recognized George at once. Normally his requests for extra gravy caused her to chuckle, as she knew Betsy would be exasperated by his request. Today she simply nodded.

  “Of course. Let me fetch it for you.” She turned and walked into the kitchen which was bustling with activity as well. Kathy rushed between the dining room and the kitchen, passing off dirty dishes to the dish washer, Maggie. Susan, meanwhile, assisted with passing out the cakes onto plates, while Betsy oversaw everything with the eye of a hawk.

  “Not so much custard, Susan! You’ll drown out the plums.” Betsy’s voice was sharper than usual and Susan winced for a moment before adjusting her custard pouring.

  “Yes, Miss Lovell,” the girl replied and Melody saw at once that her hands shook. Her heart filled with pain for the young girl who was surely yelled at by her father more than any of them could imagine.

  I wish I could take her in to live here but her father would cause an uproar, and I do not need another Obadiah Caney on my hands. The one has caused enough trouble as is.

  At once, her mind was occupied again by imagines of Zachariah. What was Caney doing to him? The guilt over the abduction had not allowed her to sleep more than a few hours over the past few days. Questions swirled around her head again and again. Why would Zachariah have been taken? What did Obadiah want?

  “Melody?” Betsy’s voice called out, causing her to look around.

  “Yes?” She looked up into her friend’s face, which was marked with worry. A line had appeared on her forehead of her otherwise smooth skin. She stepped toward her and grabbed her by the elbow as the rest of the kitchen staff glanced up, equally concerned expressions on their faces.

  “What is it?” Betsy maneuvered her outside into the fresh air.

  “Gravy,” Melody said slowly, remembering the purpose of her visit to the kitchen. “George requested more gravy. As usual.” She tried to force a smile but failed.<
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  “Aye, he’ll have his gravy, all right. But what of you? You do not look like yourself nor do you act like it. You cannot let the Duke’s disappearance trouble you so. He would not want it. We must keep a positive mind and think of him safe and healthy, back in our midst.”

  Melody was overcome by guilt again and tears sprang into her eyes. “But, how can I? It has been four days. If he has not been released yet and there’s been no sighting, what if he has been killed?”

  Betsy shook her head quickly. “No, he has not. If Caney has him, I’m sure he is not dead. Yes, I dare say if Caney has him then it is almost for the best. He will want to torment us, swine that he is. He is a drunk and a coward but he is no killer, I’m sure of it.”

  “And what if we were wrong and it’s not Caney who’s got him? What if it’s someone else? What if he’s dead? I might never see him again, just like Frank.” She fell apart then and sobbed against Betsy’s shoulder, who rubbed her back. She could not help but compare the two situations. Frank departed for the war just weeks after their marriage and was killed soon after. They’d exchanged all of three letters during that time, the only physical reminders that she still had of him. There had been no funeral, as there had been no body to be returned. His mortal remains were somewhere in France, buried alongside his fellow soldiers.

  “Mellie, do not think such terrible thoughts. I know how you feel. Do not forget, your husband and mine met the same fate, so I understand. But you cannot compare the two situations. His Grace is not at war, and he will return. I know it. I feel it in my bones.”

  Melody wiped the tears from her face and looked up. “Why do I feel this way, Betsy? I do not understand myself. Why do I compare him to my husband?”

  Her friend broke into a kind smile as she continued to rub her back. “Sometimes the heart needs a big jolt to know what it truly desires.”

  Melody nodded. “It is true. I cannot deny it anymore. I… care for him greatly. And it scares me so much to think that I might never see him again.”

  “You will. And I dare say, he feels as you do. If he knows it or not. But I can tell. It’s in his eyes, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you cannot see. The way he smiles when you talk. He looks at you like his steward looks at me.”

  This made Melody smile, as she had not heard her friend acknowledge Mr. Ridlington’s obvious affection for her.

  “And I suppose I look at Zachariah as you look at Mr. Ridlington.”

  She blushed then and gave a small shrug. “Suppose so. Now, wipe the tears from your face. We have a hungry crowd to serve. And I have to whip up some more gravy. And make sure Susan hasn’t drowned the plum cakes in custard!”

  Melody chuckled despite herself and she followed her head cook back inside the inn just as behind them, the rushing gallop of a horse approached.

  When she turned and saw the rider, her breath caught in her throat and she tumbled backwards against the wall. It was the steward. And his face showed the same terrible expression as the messenger had carried when he came to announce the death of her husband.

  Not again. Please. Not again. I cannot lose another man that I love…

  For it was true. She loved him. And she knew at once that if she lost him, too, she would never recover.

  Chapter 30

  Caleb jumped off his horse and ran to the innkeeper’s side just as her legs appear to buckle beneath her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her up with assistance from the cook.

  “Faith, Melody!” Miss Lovell’s voice was full of terror. “Quickly, Mr. Ridlington, we must get her inside at once.”

  He only gave her a curt nod before moving toward the open door. Inside, the kitchen was filled with the scent of fresh-baked cake. The kitchen maids stared at them in alarm. He turned to the one closest to him, the young girl whose name he believed was Susan.

  “Brandy, she needs brandy.”

  “Through the door there,” the cook nodded towards the back door and he went where she indicated. On the other side he found a small storage room with a chair, upon which he placed the innkeeper. Her face was as white as the wall.

  “Please,” she said as she grabbed onto his cravat. Please tell me the truth. Is the Duke dead?”

  “Dead?” He stepped back from her.

  So that was why she is acting in such a manner. She believes that he has died and I have come to share the terrible news. No, I must set her straight at once.

  He shook his head vigorously. “No, Miss Balfour, you’ve misunderstood why I’ve come. He is not dead, quite the opposite, in fact. We have received a letter from his captors, demanding a ransom for his safe release.”

  A sound escaped from the woman, something between a gasp and a sob. Beside her the cook crossed herself and kissed the crucifix necklace she was wearing around her neck. He frowned at the sight of it. Had that always been there? He could not remember.

  “So, he will be with us again soon,” Miss Lovell said.

  Caleb nodded, “I am sure he will. Just as soon as his mother and I gather the funds and arrange for his release.”

  “That weasel, Obadiah. I should have known this was all about money for him,” the innkeeper said, her face turning red with anger. “All this talk in his letters about how we have hurt his pride, and yet it all it comes down to this. A few guineas. It is a disgrace, but if that is all it takes to ensure that His Grace comes back to us safe and sound, then it will be worth it.”

  Caleb agreed. In his mind he was already going over all the assets readily available.

  “Did you see the letter? Was it Obadiah’s handwriting, like in the others?” Miss Lovell asked. He looked up at her and realized that he did not know.

  “I cannot tell you, for I have not yet seen the letter. Her Grace sent her valet to find me and tell me as I was on my way from the estate back to London, where Her Grace is staying with a friend.”

  “Why is she not at Sandorne?” Miss Balfour asked with a frown.

  “Safety. I spoke with the constables and I thought it best to have her stay elsewhere for the time being, thus she is in London. As it turns out, it helped, given that the letter was left at the House of Lords. Her being there meant she received it sooner than she otherwise would have.”

  “Left at the House of Lords?” Melody asked with surprise. “Why send it there and not the Estate? They could not have known it would reach the Duchess quicker that way.”

  Caleb shrugged, for this exact same question had occurred to him as well.

  “I suppose it made sense, for the estate is surrounded by constables and hired helpers that are looking for Caney or anyone else of suspicion. They are stationed all along the road between Sandorne and London, thus it would have been easier to bring it to the House of Lords where many a reveler is seen all day long.”

  “It is true.” Miss Lovell agreed. “Everybody in this area knows what he looks like, however, in London they would not.” She clicked her tongue. “We must hand it to the old crook, he’s smarter than any of us thought.”

  “I thank you for coming to alert me of the news,” Miss Balfour said then. He noticed that her hand had traveled to her collar where the locket Zachariah had given her hung. A smile rushed over his face as he thought of the moment he could tell his friend that his gift was not only well received, but appreciated, and even seemed to bring comfort to the woman in this dark hour. He would be so pleased. However, for now he had to concentrate on bringing him safely home, back into his mother’s arms, and those of Miss Balfour. It was clear that she thought of him with as much affection as Zachariah did her.

  “When are you to do the handover?” Miss Lovell asked.

  Again, he shook his head.

  “I do not know yet. I must first read the letter. I know only what I told you thus far. However, I shall ride on to London at once to read it myself. I will send a messenger once I know more. I just wanted to share the news with you as soon as possible.” He paused and looked again at the innkeeper who’d rec
overed her usual, self-assured personality. “I do apologize for alarming you.”

  “I was already alarmed, Mr. Ridlington. I will say, I cannot wait to get my hands on Caney when he is caught. I should like to toss him right through the window he broke.”

  “I dare say, he will see the gallows for this,” Caleb assured her.

  Beside him, Miss Lovell scoffed, “Good. Suits him right.”

  “I must depart now, I am afraid. Rest, the both of you. All will be well. I am sure of it.”

  He bade them farewell with a bow and then swung himself on his horse once more, spurring it into a swift gallop toward London and the Duchess.