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

by Patricia Haverton

  “A cart is coming. Two men in back, one up front,” he reported in a tone that was just loud enough to be heard.

  “Signal the men,” he called back in the same manner and Floyd began to lift his hat three times in succession—the pre-arranged signal.

  Caleb clutched the large portmanteau which contains the requested, or rather demanded, ransom money. For a moment he considered the sheer amount he was carrying with him—it was enough to start a new life somewhere. Or ruin an old one. A man of lesser character might have taken it and run away, but fortunately for Zachariah, there was nothing Caleb valued more than his friendship.

  Up until recently there was nobody he cared for as much as his best friend. That was, of course, before the lovely Miss Lovell, his creampuff, had entered his life. For a moment, he allowed himself to be distracted with thoughts of her and her bright eyes, flour-covered cheeks, and witty remarks.

  However, there was no time to dream as the cart Floyd spotted was turning into the clearing. It was indeed nothing but a simple cart, one you might fight on a farm for hauling supplies. This one creaked as it went along the way, clearly in need of some repair. He narrowed his eyes. A man sat on the front, directing the horses, his face covered with a mask of some sort. Behind was another man and beside him—Zachariah.

  At last Caleb breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

  Moments now, only moments, and his best friend would be free once more.

  Zachariah watched as they pulled into the clearing. The bag over his head and the blindfold had been removed during the journey, but his hands were still bound together and the foul-tasting gag remained in his mouth.

  When they pulled into the clearing, he glanced around. It appeared at first sight devoid of people, but then his gaze fell to a boulder off to the far right. A tail-coat poked out of the back for a split-second before disappearing. He narrowed his eyes and looked around as the Londoner who’d been in the cart with him for the entire ride, jumped out.

  There are men hidden all over this clearing. I see someone behind a tree, another in a tree and— Is that James Averton? The farmer with the delicious crop of apples?

  Beside him, the Londoner motioned for him to get out and Zachariah did as he was instructed. He stood on the dead grass of the clearing for only a moment when his heart jumped and his eyes locked with those of Caleb, who just then stepped into the clearing.

  The two men exchanged a nod and then Caleb spoke up.

  “I am Caleb Ridlington, Steward to the Duke of Sandorne, whom you have taken captive. I’ve come to make the exchange. Let His Grace go and you will have your reward.”

  Zachariah again wondered just how much worth had been placed upon him, but had no time to ponder the thought.

  “I don’t think so,” the taller of the two bandits said. “I’ll be calling the order here. Now, put that portmanteau into the middle of the clearing. Open it, let me see what’s in it.”

  Zachariah nodded at Caleb who followed the order at once. He could not see how much was in the portmanteau, but it appeared full of bills and coins. A tidy sum, to say the least.

  “Happy?” Caleb said, his voice a little too cocky. Caleb had a habit of being overly confident when he had a plan he deemed foolproof.

  “Indeed. Now.” The Londoner turned to him. “Go stand beside the bag. I will count to ten and then you can start walking toward you man. I will grab the bag and we will never see one another again.”

  Zachariah frowned. This did not seem a well thought-out plan at all. Why would he not insist upon taking the bag with the money first? Why a count down? It is as though they learned how to do a handover in a playbook. There’s nothing keeping me from simply…

  He shook his head then. If he’d leaned one thing over the past week, it was that the two were not exactly criminal masterminds.

  The man gave him a shove and together, they made their way forward to the spot where Caleb had left the portmanteau. He stood beside it as directed while behind him, the Londoner pulled his knife, a sharp but small blade he’d kept tucked in his waistband.

  Zachariah caught the eye of his best friend. The two smiled at one another as his captor begin to count backwards from five.

  Frankly, I am rather surprised that this man knows to count at all. I had taken him for an oaf, judging by his actions thus far, the peculiar set up at the exchange included. I wouldn’t have thought it wise to have the portmanteau beside me.

  There was no more time to be wasted, for his captor had just finished counting down to one.

  “Right then. Walk!”

  Zachariah frowned and he did as he was instructed. However, the very moment he was out of the range of the pocket knife and close to Caleb, his steward whistled and called out “Now!” at the top of his voice. He rushed forward and grabbed Zachariah by the neck, hauling him forward as men descended from all directions.

  “Seize them!” Caleb hollered as he and Zachariah rushed in the opposite direction.

  Once a fair distance from the melee, Caleb ripped away the mouth gag and embraced Zachariah. It felt so good to be free and reunited with his friend.

  “Zachariah, are you hurt?” Caleb asked as he reached him.

  “Not at all. They did not harm me physically, but they did by feeding me terrible food and keeping me locked away, prisoner to my own thoughts for days at a time. But I am much better now that I am free and out of the terrible company I had been forced to keep.”

  The sound of the cart being set into motion made him turn around. The shorter of the two men had taken off in the cart, leaving his companion to chase after it as the men began to converge upon them.

  “Wait for me, you scoundrel!” He called out but just then, Mr. Floyd jumped upon him and knocked him to the ground, while others chased the cart by horse.

  “I take it the two are not closely aligned, seeing how one so freely abandoned the other,” Caleb commented, as he undid Zachariah’s hand restraints.

  “They were loyal only to themselves, not each other. Neither were they great masterminds.” He turned to Caleb. “What have you found out about my kidnapping? Anything at all?”

  Caleb shook his head and his face darkened. “Nothing, but that they demanded a large sum of money—which they did not get.” He nodded toward the portmanteau which was being carried toward them by one of the helpers. “They delivered the ransom note to the House of Lords instead of your estate, which struck me as the work of someone of at least some smarts. However, seeing them…”

  “They were but hired hands. We must find out who was behind it all.”

  Caleb nodded then. “I have been to see Miss Balfour to inform her of your being missing. She was distraught and sure that the culprit was that Caney man.”

  The mention of Melody gave Zachariah a jolt, both because he longed to see her, and also because she’d been upset at his being taken.

  “How is she?”

  Caleb shrugged. “She was upset, as I said. She is holding her own as always. Betsy is doing her very best to be there for her, although she, too, is upset. They will both be so glad to see you.”

  Zachariah thought for a moment and then placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Have her brought to Sandorne. I wish to see her. I want to ride to the inn, but we must question this man further, thus my visit must be delayed. But I’ve longed to see her and I cannot wait. There are things I must tell her.”

  Caleb swallowed then and Zachariah realized at once that there was more to be told, more that had occurred.

  “Let us go, old chum. Mr. Floyd will have your captor brought to Sandorne in no time at all, and we will find out who was behind it all. In the meantime, you had better hold on to that.” He pointed to the portmanteau which had been placed on the ground between them. “Your future happiness might depend on it.”

  With a frown on his face, Zachariah followed Caleb toward the carriage, pondering just what his friend meant with this cryptic remark and how it figured into his week-long ordeal.


  Chapter 37

  Zachariah sat in the drawing room of his estate. He was so irate that he was sure steam would billow out of his ears at any moment. He glared at Caleb who sat across from him, pale-faced.

  “When do you think we might expect my dear mother?” He was well aware his tone carried more venom then perhaps necessary, but he could not help feeling enraged.

  To think my own mother was not sure if it was worth rescuing me. And then to think she used the opportunity to marry me off against my wishes. And to Lady Adelaide of all people!

  “I sent word that you were returning the moment you were free, Zachariah. I had one messenger sent to London and another to the Gentle Rose Inn, to inform Miss Balfour of your rescue and to invite her here. Tomorrow.”

  “I had hoped to see her this day. However, given these latest revelations, it is for the best she not come until tomorrow. At least she knows I am safe and no longer needs to fret. My mother, on the other hand…” He shook his head, the rage boiling up inside of him once more.

  “She did not know what to do,” Caleb said. His friend’s need to defend the actions of his mother did nothing to soothe Zachariah.

  “She is a formidable lady who likes to hide behind the notion that she has never been given the chance to make decisions. Which is untrue.”

  “Not decisions of this magnitude, surely.” Caleb defended her further. “Are you not the one who always laments a woman’s lack of autonomy? Her lack of being able to be considered a man’s equal?”

  Zachariah said nothing. He could not form a clear thought at present. There was too much happening all at once. He got up and paced the length of the room.

  “Have the portmanteau with the ransom returned to Lord Bellsover at once. I do not want Lady Adelaide to spend one moment longer than necessary under the false assumption that we will wed. Send our most trusted man and ensure he knows that he hands the portmanteau to her. In fact, send two men. One as a witness. No. Wait. You will go. Return the dowry to Lady Adelaide with my gratitude and inform her it is with regret that I reject her gracious offer of making herself my Duchess.”

  Caleb grinned then. “You are determined to put an end to this possible engagement.”

  Zachariah spun around. “There is no engagement.” He paused then. “Not to her, at least.”

  Caleb’s eyes grew wide. “Not to her? But to someone else? Have you had an epiphany while captive? Has the lack of proper sustenance provided you with a bout of clarity?”

  Zachariah chuckled in spite of himself. “I have missed your smart mouth, old chum. Nobody dares speak to me in such a way. Well. Aside from Miss Balfour.” Again, he smiled at the thought of her.

  “And?” Caleb looked straight at him, one eyebrow raised up.

  “And what?”

  “The epiphany.”

  Zachariah grinned as he took up his pacing once more. “Ah yes, indeed. I have made a decision about my life. I will not marry a lady of the ton. The woman I was searching for—the strong, independent woman who wishes to free herself from the confines of her perceived servitude to mankind. I was never going to find her amongst the nobility. No. Even Lady Lavinia, who had a free enough spirit to run away with her merchant, was content to stay under his thumb forever. That is not the woman I wish to wed.”

  He glanced back and caught Caleb grinning at him, arms crossed. “Go on, then,” he prompted.

  “I already met her.”

  “Indeed, I declare you did!”

  Zachariah stopped then and locked eyes with his friend, smiling broadly.

  “You know me well. Then it will come as no surprise when I tell you the conclusion I came to in captivity.”

  “I am sure it will not surprise me anymore than I was surprised you took up the cause of womankind in the first place.”

  Zachariah smirked at this. He’d always found the life of the female interesting, no matter what order of their social ladder that he might encounter. Even as a young boy at Eton he’d taken great interest in the lives of the cooks and dames and frequently questioned them over their lives away from the school.

  “Well, then. You will be the first to hear me say these words. I will wed. I will have a woman at my side. One of my choosing. One I love. One who I hope loves me as much and who will agree to marry me. For I, my dear friend, have decided to ask Miss Melody Balfour for her hand in marriage.”

  “No! You will not! I will not allow it.”

  The voice was shrill and so high-pitched that Zachariah feared for the integrity of his window panes. He stopped and turned, the smile fading from his face. Standing before him was none other than his mother. And she was red-faced and shaking with rage.

  “Have you lost your mind, Zachariah? You wish to wed a barmaid?”

  Rosalind Livingston stood before her son, her mouth agape. Any joy she’d felt upon hearing of his rescue evaporated when she heard his declaration. All of her carefully laid plans crumbled before her.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, too, Mother. And before you ask, no, captivity has not caused me to lose my marbles. The opposite is true, in fact. I have a clarity that has escaped me all of these years. Dare I say, I’ve gained the ability to see clearly for the first time in all of my life.”

  Rosalind took out her white feather fan and fanned herself rapidly, afraid she might faint from shock.

  “Zachariah, you are not speaking with your right mind. No matter what you think. You’ve had a shock. You need rest.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “I do not. I am rather busy, as it were. I have a kidnapper that must be interrogated, and Caleb here…” He stopped and turned to their steward. “You have your orders,” he said. Ridlington left at once before she could inquire further.

  “His orders? Where is he going? What are you talking about, son? What has gotten into you?”

  He stood and she saw his Adam’s apple bob. There was a pause between them and she could see the rage in his eyes.

  “What has gotten into me? Perhaps on top of the clarity which being imprisoned for a week brought me, it was the revelation that while I was absent you not only considered not paying the ransom and leaving me to die, but you agreed to a wedding I am opposed to.”

  “To save your life, Zachariah!” Rosalind knew her voice was shrill but she found herself unable to care.

  “We have many an asset, as you well know. You simply did not wish to sell any of your precious lands to save me. What good would it have done you, had you held on to every piece of land, with me dead? It would all have changed hands anyhow.”

  He looked at her with more than rage, she realized. It was hurt and sadness. And disappointment.

  “I wanted to do what was best for you. When Lady Adelaide came here to offer her assistance, it solved all of our problems. It still does. Marry her, Zachariah. You know as well as I that you cannot marry a barmaid.”

  His hands curled into fists then. “She is no barmaid. She is the proprietor of an inn. She is her own woman. She needs no man, but if I am lucky and she agrees, I hope she will accept me as her husband. As for Lady Adelaide, she is about to be informed that her scheme has failed. I’ll make sure of it. And then I will bring Miss Balfour here and make an offer on my own terms.”

  Rosalind could no longer contain herself. “You will do no such thing. I will not allow it. It is because of her, and these ghastly commoners, you were taken to begin with. I will not allow you to undo the promise I made to Lord Bellsover.”

  “Then we have nothing further to say to one another,” he declared. At once, Zachariah turned on his heel and made his way downstairs, presumably to question the kidnapper. Rosalind was left to stand in the drawing room as all of her plans crumbled around her.

  Chapter 38

  “Merciful heavens! This is impossible. I can hardly believe my ears,” Lady Bellsover cried out. She dropped backwards onto her seat.

  “I’m afraid it is quite the truth,” the steward replied. Lady Adelaide stood, suppor
ting herself with the assistance of the window sill. She could not quite take in what she was being told. The Duke was free. The news itself was glorious, of course. However, it was nothing like she’d imagined.

  In her daydreams she’d thought of seeing him upon his release from captivity and hearing it was her, Lady Adelaide Parsons, who’d assured his freedom. He’d fall into her arms, his face a picture of gratitude, and he’d finally see her for who she’d always been.

  He was meant to fall in love with me for my grand gesture, and he would promise me his heart. He was to accept our marriage as fact and only set a date.