Lord Margrave's Secret Desire

by Samantha Grace

“I am relieved you were unharmed.” He lowered to one knee, so he was eye to eye with her. Her lips parted. “We should talk about the shooter.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “If you intend to lecture me for storming off, please save it for another time. This has been a trying day already.”

  He took both of her hands in his. “I never mean to scold you, Sophia. I recognize you have a mind of your own, and I greatly admire your ingenuity and independence. But now, I need you to trust and obey me without question. You and your aunt are in danger. Go to your chambers and gather what you need for a few days. Wake your aunt and have her do the same. We are leaving Wedmore House at once.”

  Sophia laughed. “This is the worst proposal in history.”

  Proposal? Faith! He was down on one knee.

  “If you want to run off to Gretna Green,” she said, “you needn’t employ a ruse. I have not been coy about what I want, but frankly, your change in attitude toward marriage is perplexing. I hope this is not a result of misguided loyalties. I am sure Regina did not expect you to marry me to keep me safe from ridiculous young bucks kicking up a lark in the country.”

  “Today’s incident was not the act of a drunken fool.”

  She flicked a hand dismissively. “I suppose you know more than Lord Seabrook. He said it was one of the local gentry. The village has been inundated with buffoons.”

  “I wish that were true, but I recognized the man in the meadow.”

  “Oh?”

  He took a cleansing breath. “The other day you mentioned a man named Farrin tried to kill your sister and brother-in-law before he fell into the river. I believe he survived. The man—the shooter—he works for Farrin.”

  She blinked several times as if they spoke different languages. “You denied being acquainted with this Farrin fellow. How can you possibly know the man from the meadow serves him?”

  “I know,” he said. “I was not forthcoming that day, and I am sorry.”

  “You lied? Why did you lie?” She blanched. “He tried to kill my sister. If you knew he was alive, you should have said.”

  “I didn’t know until today, Sophia. I have much to explain, and I promise I will tell you everything as soon as we are in a safe location.”

  He would be breaking his vow to the Consul, but the Consul had involved Sophia. She deserved to know the truth.

  “Wh-where will we go?” Her complexion appeared bloodless, and her hands had grown cold. “Will we be safe at Hartland Manor?”

  “Farrin will expect you to retreat to one of your uncle’s properties. I cannot take you home, but I promise he will never guess where you have gone.”

  Wherever the hell that might be. Farrin knew the location of every sanctuary across England, and Crispin’s own properties would be no safer than Wedmore’s.

  They were interrupted by a soft knock. The door had been left ajar. Crispin peered over his shoulder at the butler filling the doorway. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Your valet has arrived, my lord?”

  Crispin released Sophia’s hands and stood. “Show him in.”

  The butler bowed his head then walked away stiffly.

  “Why is your valet at the door?” Sophia asked.

  “I sent for him.” He smiled grimly. “Kane is more than he seems.”

  She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms. “As are you, Lord Mysterious. As are you.” She appeared none too pleased with this realization.

  Sixteen

  A young man in his early twenties swept into the drawing room and stopped abruptly when his gaze landed on Sophia sitting in the gilded armchair. She resisted the urge to cover the stains on her skirts or smooth a hand over her disheveled hair.

  “Miss Darlington,” Crispin said, “may I present my valet, Kane?”

  “You may.” Sophia offered a tentative smile, unclear on how she should address a man who was more than he appeared.

  Kane mumbled a polite greeting and moved to stand with his hands crossed behind his back and his stance wide. The poor man appeared as uncomfortable with the unconventional introduction as she was.

  She eased from the chair, her legs trembling slightly. “Perhaps I should go above stairs to pack. Where should I tell Aunt Beatrice we are going?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Crispin pinched his forehead, rubbing his fingers back and forth as if attempting to erase the worry lines. She had never seen him in such a state. She was attempting to act brave, but earlier events and the revelation that the man who had tried to kill Regina was alive and wanted Sophia dead were beginning to take a toll. She wished she could retreat to her chambers, lock the doors, and never come out.

  She licked her dry lips. “Once you have chosen a destination, please send for me. I will approach Aunt Beatrice after a decision has been made.” She started for the door.

  Crispin extended his hand. “Please, I would like you to stay. Your help would be appreciated.”

  If he had asked for her assistance earlier that day, she would have been overjoyed. Now she wondered if he acted out of guilt. From the steadfast way in which he had studied her on the return trip to London, and the uncommon care he took with his words, she suspected he blamed himself for their brush with death. He was very similar to Sophia’s oldest sister. Regina and Crispin seemed to see themselves as modern day Atlases, responsible for bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders.

  Despite her reservations about his motives, she consented to stay. She assumed a seat on the settee closer to the door and rested her hands in her lap. “How may I be of assistance?”

  “Do you have any ideas on where to go? Perhaps there is a relative from your father’s side of the family willing to take in you and your aunt?”

  Slowly, she wiggled her mouth side to side as she thought about the Darlington family line. She and her sisters had no contact with their father’s kin, and she couldn’t be certain she would be remembered, much less welcomed into their homes. Besides, it did not seem right to bring her troubles to anyone else’s door.

  “How difficult would it be to find us if we imposed on my father’s family? After all other possibilities have been exhausted, would Farrin not think to follow that trail?”

  Kane darted a wide-eyed look toward Crispin.

  “Garrick made an appearance at Lord Seabrook’s estate today.” Crispin pushed up his sleeve to reveal his bandage. “It was not a friendly call.”

  “Hellfire!” The young man flinched and smiled bashfully. “Uh...pardon me, miss. I should have stated I am surprised by this distressing turn of events, for Lord Margrave and I were under the impression the gent was dead.”

  She tipped her head, studying Kane with a growing sense of curiosity. He did not speak like a man in service or behave like a valet, not that she was acquainted with any other valets. Uncle Charles has always insisted he didn’t require help stepping in and out of his pants or tugging on his boots.

  “She is correct.” Crispin paced the length of the room. “After Wedmore’s properties, Farrin will search mine, and eventually, he will expand the search to anyone with a connection to her.”

  Sophia drifted into her own thoughts while the men discussed possibilities. Her life no longer made sense. She had done nothing to warrant this madman’s attention, so why would he want her dead? Crispin had to be wrong. He thought he had recognized the man, but he was mistaken.

  “Take her to your brother,” Kane said.

  Sophia sat up straighter, attentive again. “When did you acquire a brother? I thought you were an only child after your mother and brother passed.”

  Crispin glowered at the valet.

  “You might abhor the idea,” Kane said with a shrug, “but it is a reasonable alternative. Miss Darlington is as close to you as family, and yet she is unaware you have a brother. Devil take it, I knew nothing about him until Christmas.” His face flushed. “Pardon me again, miss.”

  Sophia waved away his apology. She appreciated his candor if not his co
arse language. Crispin had always held back pieces of himself. A peek at what he kept behind the impenetrable wall fascinated her.

  “Aside from a few letters, I’ve had no contact with Alexander since we met Christmas Day,” Crispin said.

  A weight lifted from her heart. After his rejection, she has been plagued by speculation. Had he left her on Christmas to enjoy the company of another woman? Had her inexperience repelled him? Had she imagined the spark between them?

  “Is it true your mother died?” Sophia piped up, lagging behind the men in conversation.

  “A lie.” Crispin bit out the words, his hazel eyes stormy. “She lives with her second husband near Finchingfield.”

  “Oh.” She wanted to delve into that emotional treasure trove, but it seemed best to wait for another time.

  Kane cleared his throat. “Your mother retired from Society a long time ago, and your brother never joined. Likely, they have been forgotten. Take Miss Darlington and her aunt to your mother’s home and request your brother’s protection.”

  “I refuse to ask for that woman’s assistance.”

  “You would not be asking for her help. You have a brother.”

  “No!” Crispin resumed pacing, his strides quicker and more agitated. Sophia and Kane exchanged a helpless glance and remained silent. When Crispin seemed to deplete his anger, he stopped stalking the room. His skin had a slightly greenish tint. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Faith,” he muttered. “Tell your aunt we will be visiting my mother. It should not come as a shock. Beatrice is aware she lives.”

  Sophia startled at the news. “I see.”

  How odd her aunt had been able to keep a secret this big. Sophia excused herself to go above stairs to prepare for travel. She felt it prudent not to ask if his mother would receive them.

  “Do not tell the servants where we are going,” Crispin called.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Joy was waiting for her in her chambers. A clean gown was laid out on the bed.

  “Aunt Beatrice and I will be traveling with Lord Margrave. I am under orders to pack enough for a few days.”

  The lady’s maid returned the clean gown to the wardrobe and retrieved one suited for travel. “Where is your destination, miss? I am uncertain what I should pack.”

  Sophia trusted Joy beyond a doubt. “I know you can keep a secret. You mustn’t tell the others.”

  “Never. I will always protect your secrets, miss.”

  “Lord Margrave and I are to be married.” She felt strangely absent of emotion when she made the announcement. Perhaps none of this was real, and Crispin would reveal their sudden betrothal was a ruse, necessary until she and Aunt Beatrice were tucked away somewhere out of sight and mind. “We are on our way to Gretna Green.”

  Sophia trusted Joy, but many of the housemaids were new to Wedmore House. In the event that someone was listening at the keyhole and worked for the enemy, she wanted to throw the hounds off the scent.

  “Lord Margrave is a lucky gentleman.” Joy’s smile did not reach her eyes. “May I speak freely, miss?”

  “You may,” she said warily.

  “Is it wise for your aunt to accompany you to Scotland?”

  Sophia exhaled, relieved. Servants of different households talked with one another. If Joy had heard unflattering gossip about Crispin, Sophia trusted her maid would speak up, even if she didn’t wish to hear it.

  “I could not bear to marry without Auntie in attendance; she would never forgive me if I did.”

  Joy clucked her tongue. “Yes, Miss Allred would be difficult to console, the poor woman. With all of her chicks out of the nest, I am afraid she will not know what to do anymore. At least promise not to take Cupid with you. Lord Margrave is likely to leave the little beast on the side of the road.”

  Sophia laughed. “He would never be so cruel, but I prefer to keep my future husband happy and comfortable. Will you look after Cupid?”

  “He will be the most cared for pooch in London.”

  “Thank you, Joy.”

  After Sophia changed into her travel gown and her lady’s maid brushed out her hair and pinned it up, she visited Aunt Beatrice’s chambers. Her aunt was awake after her daily lie down, but Cupid was still snoring at the foot of the bed. Aunt Beatrice looked up from her knitting, her eyes large behind her spectacles. “Come in, dearest. Tell me all about Lady Seabrook’s garden party. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “It was interesting.” Sophia closed the door behind her and leaned against it. “Auntie, I have something to tell you.”

  Her aunt lowered her knitting needles. “What is it, love?”

  “Joy will be in to pack your belongings soon. We are going on a journey, but I have promised not to reveal our destination until we are in the coach and outside of London. Lord Margrave has asked me not to ruin the surprise.”

  “Oh!” Aunt Beatrice tossed her knitting in her basket. Cupid jerked awake. “Oh, my! Is this what I think it is?”

  Sophia shrugged, playing coy.

  Her aunt lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are we eloping?”

  Sophia smiled. “I cannot say anything, Auntie. Please do not make me break my promise.”

  When Aunt Beatrice squealed and clapped her hands, Cupid leapt from the bed and ran to jump on Sophia’s skirts, pawing to reach her. She scooped him in her arms and showered his furry head with kisses. “Joy will look after our precious boy while we are gone. Margrave has asked that we travel light. He wishes to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Well, I hope he does not insist I leave my knitting behind. I am making a baby blanket for Regina and Mr. Vistoire.”

  “Auntie! They are newlyweds.”

  “I see it is time to have the talk.” Aunt Beatrice winked.

  Sophia laughed. “You are well aware I understand procreation.” Sophia had peppered her aunt with questions since she was a young girl, and Aunt Beatrice had always been forthcoming with her answers. “Knitting a baby blanket while the bride and groom are on their honeymoon might seem a bit overeager.”

  Aunt Beatrice sniffed. “It is time for the sound of little feet in the house again. I will start a blanket for you and Lord Margrave next.”

  “That is premature, Auntie, and I never said we were to be married.”

  “Of course you didn’t, dearest.” Aunt Beatrice smiled like a cat cornering a mouse. “I will make certain his lordship knows you never uttered a word about eloping, or all the babies you will give him.”

  “Dear heavens, no!” Sophia groaned and buried her face in her hands, knowing her aunt was likely to do the opposite of what she promised.

  Aunt Beatrice laughed.

  Fretting over her aunt’s loose tongue proved unnecessary, however. Once Crispin saw her and her aunt settled in his travel coach, he informed them he would be following on horseback until it was time to change horses.

  The carriage shuddered away from Wedmore House to Cupid’s waves, courtesy of the lady’s maid who cradled the little black poodle against her chest and moved his paw. Sophia waved, too, and prayed Joy and all the servants under Uncle Charles’s roof would be safe.

  Crispin had put her mind somewhat at ease when he reported meeting privately with the butler while she was overseeing the packing her belongings. Mr. Tillman would hire men exclusively from a list Crispin had provided to begin patrolling Wedmore House that evening. Crispin said their presence would discourage intruders. Despite Sophia’s objections, he insisted on assuming responsibility for the expense of additional staff.

  Aunt Beatrice pulled the blanket she was knitting from the basket on the bench beside her. “Why do you suppose Margrave is on horseback instead of joining us? Did you quarrel? I have never seen such passionate rows in all my life.” She wiggled her eyebrows comically. “It bodes well for a happy marriage bed.”

  Sophia shook her head in disbelief at her aunt’s single-mindedness. “Auntie, I hope you do not intend to hound me for children the whole way. O
therwise, I will switch places with Crispin. You can pester him for a while.”

  Aunt Beatrice sniggered. The clicking of her needles was comforting and familiar.

  “You know he likes his exercise. We are not quarreling.”

  Sophia rested her head against the seatback and smiled, but inside she was trembling. Although he hadn’t stated it outright, Crispin was concerned about another attack. He followed on horseback, so he could more readily launch a defense.

  “It is a long way to Gretna Green,” Aunt Beatrice said as she furiously worked the knitting needles. “Perhaps I will have enough time to make a baby blanket for Evangeline, too.”

  “I never said we were heading for Gretna Green. Crispin wants me to meet his mother before we marry.”

  The knitting needles ceased clicking. Aunt Beatrice regarded her with a wary glimmer in her eyes. “Oh? We are on our way to see his mother?”

  “I am sure it must come as a surprise, Auntie. After all, we believed she died many years ago.”

  “Did we? It is hard to remember sometimes.” Aunt Beatrice chuckled, stuck out her tongue, and made a silly face. “Too many hard knocks to the head, perhaps.”

  Sophia suspected her aunt might be blaming her faulty memory to avoid further questions, but Auntie had grown more forgetful over the last several years. It was possible she did not remember Crispin’s mother was alive. Or perhaps she had wished to protect Crispin from further heartache by keeping the secret, which only made Sophia adore her aunt more.

  When they reached the first coaching inn, Crispin pulled her aside. “We have too far to travel. I will find lodging for us before nightfall.”

  Sophia nodded. She had no choice except to trust his judgment. Whatever he had become involved in was beyond her capabilities, and she could never be of any real help. As he had claimed, she was a hindrance. The realization scraped her heart raw.

  Seventeen

  “You have requested the key to Lord Geoffrey’s chambers, Your Grace?”

  Perry Walsh, Duke of Stanhurst, took a gulp of brandy for fortification and turned to face the head housekeeper. “I did. I want access now.”