"Why, thank you." He beamed. Didn't people of his station normally compliment the duke? Wouldn't visitors comment daily, in awe, on such a delightful house? And the small bit of the house she'd seen surprised her. Did the duke live here alone, save his servants? A house this large was meant for an entire family.
Sasha glanced down and fingered the material of her dress, her ragged fingernails scratching the fabric. "I wanted to thank you for… all you've done. The room, the clothes, and well… the well."
"You don't need to thank me. I already told you I am in your debt because of where your accident happened."
He pushed away from the desk and walked the few steps to the settee. Sitting down on the opposite end, he angled toward her and crossed one leg over the other. The shiny boots caught a reflection from the light outside the window.
"But it was my fault." She slumped into the back of the settee. "If I hadn't been on your property—"
Garrett clasped his jaw, working the muscles in and out. He clenched his hand into a fist and smacked it into his other palm. "There is no excuse for what happened! How easily it could have been avoided!"
Sasha gulped in air and trembled. Maybe there was a side to him he'd not allowed to be visible until now. So far, he'd been sweet and kind. Now Sasha's heart raced. Perhaps she was not safe. Swallowing, she leaned as far away from Garrett as she could without falling off the settee. Is he displeased with the trouble I've caused? Garrett widened his eyes. "Oh, dear. I didn't mean you. Please don't be afraid. I am livid about the well being open, but my anger is not directed toward you. I'm angry with myself." He glanced away. "I was so frightened when I heard you call up from the well. And then, I wasn't at all sure I could get you out. What if I couldn't have saved you? If that would have happened…"
Sasha's fear drained away like the sea at low tide. Yes, Garrett had a temper. So had Samuel, which caused so much trouble for him when he went to the inns. But for Garrett, underneath a gruff exterior lived a kind, thoughtful soul. "What do you mean?"
Garrett's face softened, as one corner of his mouth lifted. He scooted a few inches closer to her, but did not touch her. "Miss Douglas, I—"
A knock on the open doorframe preceded the butler, who widened his eyes briefly before erasing all emotion from his thin face.
"Yes? What is it?" Garrett frowned.
"Pardon me, your grace. You have a visitor. Shall I show—?"
A tall, portly woman in a dark green dress brushed past the butler, nearly causing him to stumble. "Oh now, you know I don't need to be introduced to the duke. Why I—" The woman gasped. Clutching her collar with a gloved hand, her face reddened. "I see your grace isn't alone."
Garrett darted a glance down at his proximity to Sasha. Scooting away, he stood, jostling Sasha's leg in the process. A pain shot from her knee to her toes. She gasped. Garrett seemed not to notice.
"Lady Johnsing, how… delightful to see you." Garrett glanced sideways toward Sasha. "To what do we owe this impromptu visit?"
"Never mind that now, your grace. It seems I've come at a…" She grabbed her fan from her reticule, furiously waving it in front of her chubby face. Her cheeks flushed scarlet.
Deep pink colored Garrett's cheeks, as well. He cleared his throat. "No, no, of course not." He turned halfway toward Sasha, with what appeared to be a forced, pleasant expression.
Lady Johnsing frowned. "Your grace, I've been around a long time. I know when… something is… going on." She sputtered out the last two words as if she couldn't wait to get rid of a bite of spoiled meat.
Footsteps filled the silence, as Garrett hurried to Lady Johnsing's side. He took her large hand and bent to place a chaste kiss on the back of her glove. "Please forgive my rudeness, my lady. Allow me to introduce Miss Douglas."
Sasha did her best to smile, but imagined it appeared as more of a grimace. Her ankle pounded, with throbbing spikes of pain traveling up and down her leg. She knew the polite thing would be to stand and curtsey, but she couldn't have gotten up by herself if she'd tried.
Sniff. Lady Johnsing held her handkerchief to her pointy nose as she peered down at Sasha. "I am quite pleased to meet you, Miss Douglas."
Sure you are. Sasha would bet every one of her years living on the earth that the woman meant nothing of the sort. "It is my pleasure as well, my lady." But then, neither did she.
Garrett took a step closer to Sasha. "Lady Johnsing, Miss Douglas injured her leg—"
Sasha gasped. Garrett paused and turned toward her, raising his eyebrows, but didn't finish his sentence. Sasha pleaded with him through her eyes not to say anything further. Garrett cleared his throat.
Lady Johnsing cleared hers as well. "Yes, your grace? You were saying?" She angled a glance toward Sasha, then back to Garrett.
"I, well… she tripped." Garrett wrung his hands together.
Suspicion flooded Lady Johnsing's face. She narrowed her eyes and focused on Sasha. "Tripped, you say? On what?"
Sasha eyed the older woman. "I tripped on the hem of my dress, my lady."
Lady Johnsing frowned. "I don't think—"
"Of course you don't." Garrett rushed forward, taking her arm. "My lady, thank you so much for stopping by." He spun the woman toward the doorway to the hall. "Always a pleasure to see you." The knob on the front door rattled as Garrett continued. "I would not want to take your valuable time away from Lord Johnsing."
If only Sasha could slip over to the doorway and take a peek at what was happening! But if she tried, she'd end up in a heap on the floor. And how would she explain that?
Mrs. Johnsing sputtered. "B-but, I-I—"
The front door opened with a creak. Garrett was probably pushing her out the door by now. He raised his voice. "Truly lovely to see you, my lady." Was the woman now outside on the lawn… on her butt? The door closed with a thump.
Sasha sputtered and bit her lip. She angled toward the window and glanced outside. Yes, Lady Johnsing now stood out on the front path, staring up at the house. Sasha hadn't known a person's face could be the actual color of a beet. It appeared Garrett had more spunk under those well-fitting clothes than she'd realized.
Behind her, a man cleared his throat. Sasha swallowed hard and slowly turned toward the doorway. Garrett stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised. Was he upset with her?
A one-sided smile appeared, softening his features. Sasha whooshed out a breath. No. He wasn't upset. Even though she had acted in an inappropriate way by spying on a visitor to his house. She would have to watch how she acted. For however long she was here, she owed it to Garrett not to embarrass him any more than she already had.
Garrett strolled to the settee and sat down on the other end. "Sasha, I'm sorry about what happened. Lady Johnsing and my mother were girlhood friends. After my mother passed away, Lady Johnsing took it upon herself to keep an eye on me, even to the point of coming through my door unannounced. I've kindly tried to dissuade her, but she won't budge." He tilted his head. "Why didn't you want me to tell Lady Johnsing how you hurt your ankle? She's the town busybody. If she knew how you hurt yourself and why you were here, it might go a long way toward protecting your reputation."
Sasha lowered her chin. "I was afraid."
Garrett lifted her chin with one finger. His green eyes stared back at her. "Afraid of what?"
"The magistrate. I… That he would come here to question me about trespassing on your property. It frightens me to my core that he will arrest me." I can't tell you the real reason for my fear.
"No. I would never let that happen."
"It might be something beyond your control. I'd just feel safer if no one knew. Is it all right?"
Garrett frowned. "I assure you, nothing would happen to you. Do you not trust me?"
"I trust you. It is others I do not trust. They have never caught the man who killed Samuel. How can I believe that they would mean me no harm? I must consider these things, since I'm alone now, after my brother…" She held back
a sniff, not wanting to cry. Please take me at my word. I don't want anyone to connect me with Samuel's debts!
"I know. And I am sorry about your brother. So sorry. I can… imagine losing a sibling as you did."
His face fell. Was it on Sasha's behalf? Or had Garrett lost someone too? "Garrett, why—"
He glanced toward the corner. Sasha did as well. Maryann's chin rested on her chest and her eyes were closed. Garrett took both of Sasha's hands in his. "Listen. I promise nothing will happen to you as long as you are here." He looked away then back. "But I understand how you might be apprehensive without your family close to protect you." His eyes darkened. He frowned.
"Are you well?"
Garrett squeezed her hands once and then released them. He nodded. "I'm fine."
For the next hour, Sasha appreciated the beautiful view of Garrett's grounds through the window while he sat at his desk, shuffling papers and adding sums in a ledger. She enjoyed just being with him, even if they didn't speak. His presence calmed her heart. She sighed. Would it not be lovely if she could stay there forever? Of course, it would never be possible. Who would accept her as Garrett's equal? Not his peers and certainly not the ton.
Garrett scooted his chair away from his desk and stood. "If it is acceptable for you, I will take you back to your room. I'm afraid I have some things to which I must attend."
Sasha nodded. "Of course." She'd forgotten someone as important as the duke would have many duties he was responsible for and many people to oversee away from his house.
Her journey back up the stairs in Garrett's arms was even better than the initial one. She was no longer lightheaded and could fully enjoy everything about him. Maryann had awakened from her nap just as Garrett was ready to return Sasha upstairs. The maid yawned as she followed them up the steps.
Garrett's muscular arms were hard as granite. The thrum of his heartbeat pulsed against Sasha's cheek as she rested against his chest. His breath whispered across her face and she relaxed as she never had. What was it about this man that put her at ease so quickly? They had only just met, yet… was there not a connection between them?
Garrett carried her to the guest room and gently set her on the bed. She scooted up and leaned back against the pillows. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Will you be all right, or shall I have Maryann attend to you?"
"I'm fine." Sasha still couldn't believe she had someone to attend to her needs.
"I will do as you wish, and will tell no one how you came to be injured. But I am loathe to say, word will now be out you are here without a plausible reason for being so, as a single, unchaperoned woman. Your reputation is bound to suffer."
"Thank you for agreeing to not say anything. I do not want my reputation tarnished, or to cause you any further trouble. But it terrifies me just to think someone might tell the magistrate." She shuddered. Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Garrett took a step toward the door. "I will not say anything to anyone outside of this house, aside from the physician. Trust me on that. But… someone is bound to find out. As for your reputation, I will do my best to deflect questions and accusations, but be warned, it may be quite uncomfortable."
Sasha closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Thank you." She could weather the scorn of others when it came to her, as long as no one found out about Samuel's debts. The thought of being sent to debtor's prison was more than she could stomach. When she opened her eyes, Garrett was gone. She knew reputations were important, especially at his level, but why did it bother him so much? And why was he upset by the mention of her brother? It was not as if they had ever met. Had Garrett had something bad happen to someone he loved, too?
Chapter Four
Garrett closed the door and leaned his back against it, the oak cool through his shirt and topcoat. He had told Maryann she wasn't needed at present, so he was alone. He ran his hand down his face. What kept possessing him to touch the girl's hand? He was drawn to her as he had never been to another woman. As if she had him entranced in some sort of spell. He shook his head. What fancy! Was he now daft? Had he lost control of his very mind?
Time to do something productive. He glanced back at the door. Something to get his mind off the woman in the bed.
Talk of Sasha's brother's demise dredged up thoughts of Agatha. Even though three years had passed, the pain was still raw. Sasha's grief for her older brother reawakened old, painful wounds. But he didn't want to talk about Agatha with Sasha. Surely it would only make her feel worse. The poor girl had been through quite enough.
More determined than ever to help her, Garrett vowed to find the man who'd robbed Sasha of her only remaining family. It was something tangible he could do to help her, and in some small way, a dedication to Agatha. Guilt still crushed him, even now; he'd been unable to find Agatha's killer. He feared his heart would ache more than he could bear if another murderer roamed free.
He retraced his steps toward his study. There were some discreet contacts he had for getting sensitive information, which he'd used in the past. Maybe if her brother's murderer were caught, Sasha could find some semblance of peace. The poor girl had nothing. Garrett had an abundance of all of life's comforts. Surely he could come to her aid with help, both emotionally and physically.
A footman, with orders for the groom to harness up the curricle, hurried from the study. Garrett changed into driving clothes and then waited by the front door. It was of utmost importance to find the man responsible for the murder, and to find him quickly. Garrett assumed that the longer time lapsed after a crime, the harder it was for the criminal to be caught and prosecuted. It had been the case with Agatha's killer. The scoundrel had never been found.
The early part of his carriage ride was bumpy, but he scarcely noticed. The groomsman sat behind him in the rumble seat. Garrett's mind was consumed with Sasha and getting justice for her and her brother, but his thoughts also swam with memories of dear Agatha. Her proficiency at the pianoforte, her love of anything in nature. How she'd sit by the hour in the garden, watching and listening to the songbirds. And the gentle way she'd had when listening to others when they had a concern, her eyes never leaving the other person's face, her hand resting gently on the speaker's arm. She'd been the middle child but, being the only girl, had been given special treatment by their parents. Garrett hadn't minded. She'd been a sweet, beautiful child, and a wonderful, engaging young woman.
He swallowed down a sob. Why had she had to die at the hands of a greedy, heartless man? Her life had been cut short, depriving her of marriage, children, and love. Just the same as Sasha's brother. Garrett frowned. Sasha had told him Samuel was killed during a fight over a woman in a inn. Had it been a common place for him to spend time?
If so, Sasha seemed worlds apart from her brother in values and temperament. Nonetheless, she'd lost her one remaining family member and deserved to at least know the man who took him from her had paid for his crimes. Someone so brash as to commit the atrocity of murder shouldn't be free to roam about, enjoying life and possibly hurting someone else, as well.
The clip-clop of his horses' hooves along the Kensington High Street soothed him. He tried to relax for the rest of his ride, loosening his white-knuckled grip on the reins and unclenching his teeth. Getting upset again would serve no purpose. A clear head was what he needed for this quest. He knew it would take some time, but anticipated the day he could possibly give Sasha a gift of peace, knowing the person who took her brother away from her had been punished.
In Kensington, he stopped the horses outside the office of an acquaintance who happened to be a barrister. Garrett stepped down from his carriage onto the dusty street and tossed the reins to his groomsman. "Keep the horses moving. I'll be back." He nodded to a couple of gentleman as they strolled by. Straightening his hat and coat, he walked toward the stately brick building with purpose in his step.
Once inside, he stood a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. An older man
with a graying mustache and beard stood up from his desk and bowed. "Good morning, your grace. How may I help you?"
Garrett stepped further into the room. "Good day, Mr. Appleton. Does Mr. Renthwaite perhaps have a few moments to spare for me?"
The clerk pushed back his chair and adjusted his glasses. Light from weak sunlight through the window reflected off of the lenses. "Won't you please have a seat? I'll check if he's available." Mr. Appleton left the room with a pronounced limp, the sound of one foot dragging echoing through the room.
"Thank you." Garrett perched on the edge of a wooden chair and glanced around. The only building, as far as he knew, that housed as many books as this one was a library. When did the barrister find time to read them all? But then, laws and information were his passion, so the reading must be a pleasure for him.
The door squeaked open and Mr. Appleton reappeared. "You may go in now, your grace."
Garrett nodded and walked past the secretary's desk.
Mr. Renthwaite, a man close to Garrett's age, stood. "Good day, your grace. How may I be of service to you?" He indicated a chair opposite his desk with a wave of his hand. Both men sat.
Garrett kept his voice low. "I am in need of some of your… more delicate services."
"I see." The barrister rose from his chair, closed the door, and returned to his seat. "Go on."
"It has come to my attention that a young man by the name of Samuel Douglas was killed in a fight a few days past."
Renthwaite found a spare scrap of foolscap and grabbed his quill. He jotted a few notes. "Was this Douglas a friend of yours?"
"Actually, no. He's… he was a brother of… I'm asking not for myself, you understand, but for a friend." Garrett's face warmed. He hoped it wasn't red but imagined it was.
"So this friend seeks my services?"
Garrett shook his head. "She knows not that I am here. I want…" He glanced out the window, wishing he could lose the warmth that now encompassed his entire body. He needed to convey the facts as he knew them to the barrister, but didn't want to give more details than were necessary.
Rescued by a Duke Page 4
