A Christmas Bride for the Duke: Clean Regency Romance (The Nettlefold Chronicles Book 4)

by Arietta Richmond

  He rounded the end of the building, just in time to see the small door at the far end of it swing closed. Putting on a burst of speed he flung himself towards it – he needed to get inside fast, to see which way they went, in there. Inside, there were far too many places to hide.

  ~~~~~

  Garrett had stepped out onto the terrace, intending just to walk for a few minutes and think about how best to draw his suspect out, when he saw Lady Eleanor, down in the gardens near the hedge. She was standing very still simply looking out across the gardens to the hills in the distance. He wondered what she was thinking – she was not one he had ever taken for an early riser, but it seemed that she was.

  Then, as he watched, she began to move again. He had almost turned away, when a voice sounded, quite clear in the crisp morning air. He swung back, and watched in horror as she was accosted, and dragged off. Almost before he was conscious of it, he was running. He skidded on the icy stone and steps, then got better traction on the gravel garden paths. Within a very short time, he rounded the hedge, looking about desperately. There was no sign of her.

  There was, however, the echo of a scream, and the sight of Braeness, running hard, down along the far side of the furthest wing of the stables. On the assumption that Braeness had also seen the abduction, he sprinted after him.

  ~~~~~

  The door swung closed behind them, and Eleanor stumbled, half blind in the darkness of the stable building after the brightness outside. The mad man hauled her along, past dusty stacks of grain bags, and into a dark corner, where the sacks and the wall of another interior room barricaded her in. He thrust her against the dusty sacks, causing a huge cloud of the dust to engulf them for a moment. Then, with his face in front of hers, he began to speak again.

  “If you’d said nothin’, they’d not have looked at me twice, I tell you. And nor they should have. I didn’ kill her, you know. If she’d just come along and given me a kiss and a roll in the hay, like a sensible girl, she’d not have fallen. All I did was reach for her – she was the one who stepped back over the edge, with no help from me. I shouldn’t be punished for somethin’ I didn’t do, now should I, eh?”

  Eleanor swallowed, and coughed, the dust catching in her throat. What could she say?

  “I…”

  “Don’t you go makin’ excuses now. It must have been you, you were the only one as had any chance o’ seein’ me that mornin’! Nasty piece – why’d you tell him? Urrgh!”

  His voice tailed off into a strangled choking sound, as a result of the very large hand which had encircled his throat, and pulled him back away from her.

  Eleanor looked up, and met deep forest green eyes. She sagged in relief, allowing the pile of sacks behind her to hold her up.

  “Are you hurt, my Lady?”

  “My arm will be bruised, but otherwise, no, I don’t think so.”

  Braeness shook the groom in his grasp like a terrier might shake a rat, and the man clawed at the hand which held him by the throat.

  “You, you despicable piece of work, are very lucky she’s not hurt, or you would be facing far more trouble than you already are.”

  “And, given that I just heard him admit to being the cause of Molly’s death, even if he did not intend it, the amount of trouble he is already in is substantial.”

  The voice came from behind Braeness. It was Garrett, and Eleanor felt suddenly that the entire terrifying thing had been worth it, for the man had done as Garrett said, and clearly implicated himself, before witnesses.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adair had discovered, when he’d stepped past the pile of sacks to see Baggs holding Lady Eleanor forcefully against the grain bags, ranting at her like a madman, that his grip on civility was far thinner than he’d thought. The idea that anyone might hurt her, when he could prevent it… he had simply launched at the man, dragging him off her with no regard for the varlet’s ability to breath.

  He’d realised, as he shook the man, how easy it truly would have been to break the cad’s neck, then and there. In that moment, he saw himself as others saw him – the wild barbarian giant of a man, who was dangerous. It sobered him, brought him back to the moment, before he’d done more than incapacitate the fellow.

  Then, he focused his attention on Lady Eleanor, and his fear for her. His relief when she declared herself unharmed, save bruising, was enormous, and only grew when Kilmerstan spoke from behind him. He wanted to drop the scoundrel he held, and pull Lady Eleanor into his arms, to kiss her, to ensure that, truly, she was not harmed.

  He did not, but his eyes met hers, and what he saw there made his heart sing.

  Kilmerstan stepped around him as he took in Lady Eleanor’s state – her gown and pelisse coated in dust, her hair awry, and her face beyond pale, with the pink imprint of a hand on one cheek. As he recognised what he was seeing – that handprint on her cheek - Adair reflexively tightened his grip on the groom – and only the gurgling noises the man emitted stopped him from choking him completely.

  “Braeness, I think it’s best that we remove this scoundrel to the house, where he can be questioned, and then locked in the deepest cellar until his fate is decided. But Lady Eleanor – it would be best if you slip back into the house now, and go directly to your chamber – a change of attire, and a soothing compress on your cheek should hopefully prevent too much gossip.”

  Her eyes clung to his for a moment, and Adair wanted to kiss her, to reassure her, but… her expression changed, became more closed off, and she gave a nod, then pushed herself to stand away from the sacks.

  “You are right. I can do that. I will go now. And… thank you. I don’t know how you came to realise what was happening, but I’ll be forever grateful.”

  “I’d just come in from a ride, and as I stepped back out o’ the stable, I heard ye. Ye’ve got a good set o’ lungs on ye, lassie.”

  Kilmerstan looked at him, surprised at his lapse into the Scots, and he shook his head – it was this woman, she’d done it to him from the first. Lady Eleanor hesitated, then smiled.

  “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment, Your Grace.”

  That said, she stepped past them, completely ignoring the man who had accosted her, and left the stables through that same side door.

  Kilmerstan turned to him.

  “Hold the man – Baggs is his name, if I remember aright, and I’ll find a lead rope to bind his hands with.”

  Adair nodded, and when the man began to squirm and scrabble at the hand around his neck again, simply shook him, until he stilled. Kilmerstan returned quickly, and bound Baggs’ hands behind him, then slipped an arm through one of Baggs’ arms. Adair bent until he was eye to eye with Baggs, who paled.

  “I’m going to release your throat now, and take hold of your other arm. You’re to stay silent, or I’ll be finding a polishing rag to be gagging you with, d’ye ken?” Baggs half nodded, and Adair released his throat, watching the man gasp for breath as he did, then took his other arm. “Now walk with us, or be dragged – it’s up to you.”

  They turned, and hauled him out into the main walkway. Kilmerstan looked around, then spoke.

  “We’ll have to take him through and out one of the main doors – getting three of us abreast through that side door isn’t going to work. It’ll start the gossip, because everyone in the stables is likely to see, but I don’t think we can avoid it.”

  “We can’t – and they’re all going to know soon enough anyway.”

  They turned, and set off. Grooms and stableboys stuck their heads out of stalls, out of the carriage house, and out of the tack room, all gawking as they went past.

  Some even followed them, and stood in a cluster at the stable door, watching as they half dragged Baggs across the yard and into the house.

  Inside, they went to Kilmerstan’s study. On the way, Kilmerstan sent a footman to ask Dangerfield and Oakthorpe to attend them, to be further witnesses to the man’s confession.

  ~~~~~

  Eleanor did
not, entirely, manage to avoid notice whilst getting to her rooms. Mary took one look at her, and gave a squeak of shock, then rushed about, calling for a bath, laying out fresh clothes and sending for the old woman who worked in the kitchens, who had a talent with possets, tisanes, and healing.

  Once the bath had been brought, and filled with warm water, she sank into it gratefully. Even as she’d come up the stairs, she had been seen by a number of the guests – and they’d started whispering immediately, so she knew that the gossip would be rife by the time she showed her face in the parlour – and then, unless a miracle could be worked to take the colour from her cheek, that gossip would triple.

  Mary fussed at her, and she sighed.

  “Mary, leave me be, just get me clean, dressed, and looking as respectable as possible. And do not dare to tell my parents anything – yet. I will explain everything in due time, but just not yet.”

  “My Lady…?”

  “Please, Mary…”

  “Well… as you wish, but I’m like to get in trouble for not telling them…”

  “I will take the blame, never fear.”

  Mary looked at her, sceptical, and Eleanor couldn’t blame her – for most of her life, she would not, ever, have volunteered to take the blame for anything. Perhaps this last year really had changed her attitudes…

  In the end, it was late afternoon, near dinner time, before she felt up to venturing out of her rooms. The pink hand-mark on her face had blessedly faded with old Mrs Bell’s ministrations, and was only very faintly visible. But that, of course, meant that all of the kitchen staff, and probably all of the house staff, now knew exactly what it had looked like. There was no escaping rumour and gossip in a house full of servants.

  She wondered what had been done with the groom who had accosted her, and what Braeness thought of her now. His eyes when he had saved her had been full of warmth, but for a moment, when he had first hauled the groom away from her, he had been terrifying – but magnificent, too. Every bit the dangerous barbarian that people painted him as.

  She hadn’t felt afraid for more than a second, for his expression, when he’d looked at her, had softened, filled with that warmth which she recognised as desire. In that moment, dust, dirt, bruises, and madman notwithstanding, she had wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him.

  Braeness had saved her – from a man who had admitted causing Molly’s death, and threatened her.

  She shivered, even now, remembering the madness in the groom’s eyes, and the utter certainty she’d felt, that he would hurt her.

  But, still, she felt confused about her own feelings for Braeness, and his for her. That night in the library, she had thought that something wonderful existed between them – but since, they had been rather aloof from each other – they had spoken, yes, but in crowded rooms, with no chance for any private time. Now, this… had he saved her because he cared for her, or because it was the honourable thing to do?

  She didn’t know. And hiding away in her rooms for the day meant that she also did not know what had happened, what everyone in the house knew, or didn’t know. To walk into dinner so utterly blind of what people would be speaking of was frightening. But she had to do it – she couldn’t hide forever.

  ~~~~~

  Once Oakthorpe and Dangerfield arrived in the study, Kilmerstan turned to Baggs, who sat slumped and miserable looking in the chair where he had been deposited. Every so often, as they waited, he had looked up, and gone as if to speak, but Adair’s hard stare had been enough to stop him. Now, they wanted him to speak.

  “So, Baggs, please tell these gentlemen what you told Lady Eleanor, in our hearing, in the stable.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I assume you’d prefer not to be declared a murderer.”

  Baggs paled, and swallowed.

  “What’s to say you’re not going t’ say I murdered her anyway?”

  “Nothing – but how honest and convincing you are now.”

  The man swallowed again, staring into the fireplace, then he lifted his head.

  “A’right. It’s like I said to the leddy. I didn’ kill Molly. If she’d just come along and given me a kiss and a roll in the hay, like a sensible girl, she’d not’ve fallen. All I did was reach for her – she was the one who stepped back over the edge, with no help from me. I shouldn’ be punished for somethin’ I didn’t do, now should I, eh? But you want someone to blame, don’ you? I swear, I didn’ want her dead – I wanted t’ bed her. But who’d believe the likes o’ me? She fell, silly girl – forgot the open hatch was behind her, and stepped back. One minute, I’s lookin’ at her face, then next, she’s gone, nothin’ there.”

  The men looked at each other, and then back at Baggs’ angry and defiant face.

  “I could say that you caused her death, for in reality, I think you did. You should know better than to try to force yourself on a woman who has made it clear that she doesn’t want your attentions. But I do believe you when you say that you did not intend her death.”

  “Y’do? Well that’s a right turn up. So you’ll let me go?”

  “No, by no means. For you still caused her death, by attempting to force yourself on her. And now, today, you have assaulted and threatened Lady Eleanor. I cannot release you after that.”

  “I wanted that fine lady t’ suffer too – look what she’s done t’ me, by tellin’ you she saw me in the hayloft! Wi’out that, ye’d not have been after me at all! I’ve bare slept this last week, what wi’ the dreams an’ everyone looking suspicious like at everyone else. I saw her out there this mornin’ all alone, an’ I just snapped like, an’ went after her.”

  “Which is exactly why I can’t just let you go. I’ll not have you up for murder, but I’ll see you punished nonetheless.”

  Kilmerstan looked, at that moment, truly ferocious and Adair understood how easy it was to frighten someone, if one simply looked the part. Baggs cringed back in the chair at the word punishment, and Adair eyed Kilmerstan, wondering what he had in mind.

  “What punishment, Yer Grace?”

  “Tomorrow, before every person here, staff and guests, and the other local magistrates, you will publicly tell this tale again, and admit your faults – I will have no one else tarnished by ongoing suspicion, as a result of your reprehensible behaviour. And then, within the month, you will leave the country, never to return. I don’t care if you go to the Americas, to Australia, to the continent somewhere – but you will leave. And until that leaving is arranged, and you can be escorted to a ship, you will remain locked up in the nearest town, in the small building which is kept for that exact purpose.”

  “But… Yer Grace… I don’ know how t’ go on anywhere but England!”

  “Would you prefer to hang for murder?”

  “Well, when y’ put it that way…”

  “Good. We will take you down to the cellars now, and lock you in until tomorrow. You’ll be given food and water, and a pallet to sleep on – better treatment than you perhaps deserve, but I will not maltreat any man in my house.”

  Baggs slumped down in the chair, and said nothing more, as if the gravity of his situation was only now sinking in. Adair pitied the man, in that instant, no matter what he had done. Having your life utterly changed, against your will, could not be an easy thing to face.

  They hauled Baggs to his feet, and took him down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen, and then to the cellars. The whispers followed them as they went, and staff peeked around corners to see as they passed.

  Once it was done, and the man locked in, with his hands unbound and the necessities provided, Adair wanted nothing more than a bath, and a change of clothes. He felt dirtied by the entire thing, not just in body, but in mind. That moment when he had simply wanted to strangle Baggs came back to him, and filled him with shame – certainly, he had been enraged by the need to protect Lady Eleanor, but still… was he actually the barbarian that so many thought him?

  And Lady Eleanor had seen tha
t moment – had he frightened her? Would she turn away from him, now that she had seen what he was capable of? That thought brought pain to his heart, so sharp as to be like the slice of a knife.

  He walked through the house, and people looked at him, whispering as usual. He ignored them all, and sought the refuge of his room. But, on the way, he paused, and spoke to a footman, who stood duty in the upstairs hall.

  “Has Lady Eleanor been down today? In the parlour?”

  The footman maintained his bland face, no doubt wondering, behind that, why Adair asked.

  “No, Your Grace, I don’t believe so, although I have been up here for much of the day, so I may have missed seeing her go down.”

  Adair nodded, and went on down the hallway. Was she well – or had she been hurt after all? Was she, oh painful thought, avoiding him, because she had seen the part of him that he tried so hard to keep shut away, the part that could, with the right provocation, actually be the barbarian?

  He supposed that, until dinner at least, he would not discover any of those answers.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eleanor entered the parlour with some trepidation. Whilst Mary assured her that her cheek appeared almost completely normal, she was still afraid that someone would notice, and that gossip would abound. She was relieved when almost no one looked her way, and went straight to where Juliana stood, talking to their parents. Her mother turned a worried eye upon her.

  “Eleanor dear, are you feeling better? Mary told us that you had a megrim. I hope that you’ve spent the day resting – you still look dreadfully pale.”

  The paleness, Eleanor thought to herself, was almost entirely the result of the powder hiding the last vestiges of pink on her cheek. But she smiled at her mother, and attempted to sound cheerful.

  “I am much improved, Mother. And I am sure that dinner will put me to rights completely.”