“Do not threaten me,” he warned. “I will not stand for it!”
She laughed again, a malevolent sound that made him shiver. “You have nothing left on which to stand,” she said and then walked out of the room.
What he wanted to do was run after her and tell her that she was wrong, but he found his legs locked in place as he realized the truth of her words.
He had nothing left on which to stand.
***
The night deepened, and William stumbled into the now empty ballroom, a candle in one hand and a near-empty decanter of brandy in the other. Staggering to the far wall, his eyes fell on the portraits that hung there. Grief overtook him as he thought about how he had played right into Sofia’s hands. Why had he ignored the warnings Marianne had given him? She was the most selfless person he had ever met, and yet he shunned her.
“All because Sofia fed into your egotistical ways,” he mumbled to the man in his portrait. He brought the bottle to his lips and took a drink, having given up pouring the liquid into glasses long before. When he realized the decanter was empty, he lifted it above his head and then threw it against the wall, the crystal tinkling to the floor in tiny shards.
His grandfather’s portrait glared down at him, and the idea that he had disappointed the man pained him. However, when his father’s picture looked upon him with accusing eyes, his shame was complete. His father had walked away from his title in the name of love, preferring a life with William’s mother rather than one of wealth, willing to work in a mine to make ends meet. His father was wise for walking away, and William realized that perhaps that was exactly what he needed to do.
“You are a fool!” he shouted at his own portrait, his voice echoing through the empty room. In times past, Mr. Ludlow or Marianne would be there to help him, or even poor old Thomas, the man he had shunned publicly. However, there would be no one coming to help him this time; they were all gone and now he was alone. Yes, his father had walked away, a wise man, indeed, and William knew at this moment that it was what he needed to do, as well.
Making his way to the front of the house—not an easy feat in his current state, he shouted for the butler. “Mr. Bransworth!” The man appeared as if he had been waiting just on the other side of the door leading to the servants’ quarters. “My coat.”
“You are leaving at this late hour, Your Grace?” he asked as he helped William into his coat.
“I am.” He patted the man on his shoulder, for which William received a look of dismay. “You are a great butler, Barnsworth. Tell the next Duke that I said you are to remain.” Then he opened the front door and stepped outside.
“Your Grace?” Mr. Barnsworth said from behind him. “Forgive me, but I do not understand.”
“It is time for me to leave this place and never return,” William explained. “My father knew the truth of what this life held, and I should have followed in his footsteps.”
He rounded the corner of the house and made his way to the stables, where he saddled his horse—or attempted to until a stablehand helped him finish the task—and soon he was mounted. He stopped in front of the grand house and gave it one last look. His first reaction to his new home had been one of awe and wonder, but now he wished to forget it all. The blame for his behavior could not be placed on anyone but himself, as much as he wished he could blame Sofia. She had only been the woman she was, and he had been the naive fool who believed her false words of encouragement, who reacted to her stroking as a fool would.
His mind went to Marianne, and although he suspected that Sofia had lied about Marianne and Mr. Sharp, it no longer mattered. For with the way he had left things with the woman who held his heart was beyond forgiveness, and that guilt he would carry with him for the rest of his life.
With a click of his tongue and a press of his heels, the horse moved forward, and William rode off into the night, unsure where he would go, although he knew it had to be far away from here.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ten days had passed since William had pushed Marianne out of his life, and although she knew counting the days would not rid her of the pain, she could not resist. Her heart was crushed and the sadness weighed her down like a wool blanket. Perhaps she was being unreasonable, for she knew that all the blame could not be placed on William; some, if not most, had to be placed on the Dowager Duchess of Durryham. The woman had stuck her claws in him so thoroughly that she could have been a hawk lifting a mouse during the hunt. Yet, William was a grown man, and if he chose to not heed Marianne’s warnings about the woman, then he held a portion of the blame.
The more Marianne considered the Dowager Duchess’s part in the travesty, the angrier she became. The woman had carefully trapped her at the party, and then later, as Mr. Sharp shared the wonderful news of his engagement, everything had come crashing down around her.
The verbal onslaught from her father later that night did not help matters, and although her mother comforted her later that night, it did little to ease the pain. Part of her wished to write a letter to William, to make him see how destructive he had become. Yet, the more she thought on it, the stronger became the realization that it was much too late; the Dowager Duchess had a firm grip on the man she loved, and nothing would make that woman relent.
“You still walk in heartbreak, my friend,” Julia said as the two walked to a nearby bench in the garden behind Marianne’s home. “I wish there was something I could do to remedy your situation.”
Marianne gave Julia a weak smile. “I appreciate your kind words, but there is nothing anyone can do. I cannot help but wonder, however, if there is something I could have done to prevent all this from happening.”
“You were there for him, listening and guiding him,” Julia counseled. “It was you who brought him from a simple servant to a Duke who is admired. I cannot imagine what else you could have done.”
Marianne sighed. “I know you speak the truth, but somehow I ask myself whether I took part in creating the monster he became. I do worry that I played a part in it.”
A servant walked past them, and when the man was out of earshot, Julia said, “No, the fault lies with him. Perhaps he was only meant to be a gardener. What if the role of Duke was not meant for him?”
Marianne shook her head emphatically. “No, he was meant to be a Duke.” She took her friend’s hand in hers. “Oh, Julia, you should have seen him in his lessons. The more he learned, the more he smiled.” The thought of William smiling, the talks they had, brought on a sadness, and although he had crushed her heart, she could not deny how she felt, even now. “I still love him,” she whispered.
Julia leaned in and hugged her. “My sweet, sweet friend,” she said in her ear. “Can you not let go of it?”
The embrace ended, and Marianne shook her head. “I cannot. In all honesty, if I could, I do not believe I would want to. He is a good man, but his goodness was somehow masked. I will not lose hope that he will realize his mistakes and fix them.” Her mother had said very much the same as Julia, but just as she had ignored her mother’s advice, Marianne pushed aside Julia’s. In her heart, she believed there was a bond between her and William, and one way or another, they would be reunited. That was something she refused to deny.
“Look,” Julia said, and Marianne followed her gaze. “Your mother and a guest.”
Marianne rose from the bench as her mother and a man she immediately recognized walked up to her. “Mr. Ludlow?”
The man’s face was drawn, dark circles had formed around reddened eyes, and his clothing, usually impeccable, was now disheveled.
“Miss Blithe,” the man said with a bow.
Her mother gave Marianne a pointed look. “Mr. Ludlow wishes to ask you something about the Duke, and it is imperative you answer truthfully.”
Marianne nodded. Her heart beat against her chest. If something happened to William, she would never forgive herself.
“His Grace has gone missing,” Mr. Ludlow said with such abruptness that Mariann
e bit at her lip to stop the flow of tears that welled up in her eyes. “He left Silver Birch Estates one week ago and conveyed to Mr. Barnsworth that he was not returning. I sent someone to the home of his previous employers to ascertain if he had returned there, but they have not seen him. Do you know where he might have gone?”
Marianne shook her head. “No. We have not spoken since the night of his party. You see, he told me to never talk to him again, and I have abided his wishes.” The hurt from that night continued to tear at her, but her worry for William’s safety troubled her more.
Mr. Ludlow sighed heavily. “He may be close, but I do not know where to look. A troubled Duke could hide in many places.”
A thought crossed Marianne’s mind. Yes, William was a Duke, but he came from humbler beginnings than what a typical Duke would. “I understand that he dismissed you,” Marianne said carefully. Now was not the time for watching one’s words, so she continued. “Why are you the one searching for him?”
Rather than angering him, however, the man smiled. “For forty years I have served the Hawkins family. It was my personal pledge to his father the night he left that, if his son were ever to return, that I would look after him. I will honor that promise in any way I am able, even if he dismisses me.
The man’s words brought up the promise she had made to William, to stand by his side and be with him forever. She straightened her back and jutted out her chin. She also had a promise to keep.
“I will consider where he has gone,” she said. Then she placed a hand on the man’s sleeve. “Do not worry, Mr. Ludlow, we will find him…one way or another.”
He smiled at her again. “I thank you, Miss Blithe. You have been a true friend to His Grace.”
Once the old adviser and Marianne’s mother were gone, Marianne began pacing. “I believe I know where he is,” she said in a low voice. “But I will need your help tonight.”
“You are going to find him?” Julia asked, her eyes wide. “You will risk more than scorn from your father if you go out in search of him on your own.”
Marianne stopped and smiled at her friend. “I will risk everything for the man I love.”
***
The sun had set some time ago as Marianne slipped on the last riding boot and stood to stomp her foot into it. Then she walked back to the cabinet, removed the small cap William had given her, and had Julia help pull her hair up inside it so it would not show. With a smile, she looked herself over in the mirror and then turned to Julia.
“What do you think?” Marianne asked with a laugh.
Julia lowered herself to the bed and sat gaping at Marianne. “I know not how you have such clothes at the ready,” she said, “and I am nearly afraid to ask, but…how did you come by them?”
Marianne laughed again. “The night I left the estate with William, I hid them away. They are his, and I wanted something of his to take with me.”
“My friend grows more scandalous by the day,” Julia said with a shake of her head. Then she smiled. “However, that is why she is my friend and why I love her.” She pulled Marianne in for a hug and then took Marianne’s hands in hers. “Please, be careful. I will remain here with the extra cushions.”
This made Marianne laugh all the more as she glanced to the bed. The two women had devised a plan to have Julia lie on the side closest to the door, and on the small chance Marianne’s mother came to check on them, she would see Julia sleeping and a form beside her that was not Marianne, but a set of cushions taken from the chairs by the window in Julia’s bedroom.
“Thank you,” Marianne said, the laughter gone now that the time for her to make her escape had come. “I will be careful, I promise.”
Letting go of her friend’s hands, she went to the window. Her father had gone away on business two days prior, and the girls had told her mother that they were having an early night so they could go into town the following day. Everything was in place, and Marianne had no doubt her plan would go off without a problem.
The window slid open and Marianne listened for any noise that would tell her it was unsafe to leave. Hearing none, she stepped out onto the roof. A large trellis gave her a perfect ladder, and she made her way down it, the nearly full moon giving her enough light by which to see.
“Do not get into any pub fights!” Julia whispered from the window, the wide grin on her face just visible. “Explaining away a bruised nose will be impossible!”
This brought on a bout of giggles from both girls, and it took several moments for Marianne to gain her serious countenance once again. She waved at Julia and slipped around to the stables, where she saddled her horse. It was not an easy task, as a groomsman typically took care of that for her, but she had learned early on how to do it herself for those rare occasions when a groomsman was not available-such as when she wished to sneak off and save the man she loved.
Soon, she was mounted and heading down the drive, heading toward the pub she suspected currently housed the Duke of Stromhedge, or so she hoped.
***
The pub was loud and the lighting poor, but the ale had never tasted finer. William ordered another, as well as one for the old drunk who sat beside him at the long counter. He had come to the pub a week earlier and had spent the days and nights drinking as he tried to figure out what to do next with his life. His new life was now spent drinking at the pub and sleeping at the inn that sat beside it. However, he knew he could not live this way forever. That did not stop him from enjoying it at the moment, though.
Hearing laughter, William turned to see a woman approach him, her hair disheveled and silk dress stained. Then he remembered seeing her before—as her husband chased off him and Marianne.
“That woman is trouble,” the drunk said as she came to stand beside William.
He gave a nod of agreement. How well he knew.
“Hello, Love,” the woman slurred. “Looking for some company, are ya?” She winked at him and attempted to sit on his lap. “Perhaps you’d like to spend some time with me?”
William snorted as he pushed her away. “My heart lies with someone else.”
The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that right?” she demanded. “Who’s the lucky woman?”
The old drunk leaned against the counter and shook his head. “She’s better’n you. Comes from a wealthy family.” The man hiccupped. “And this man here is a gardener.”
“And a Duke, as well,” William said as he turned his back to the woman and took a drink of his ale.
“A gardener who’s a Duke?” the woman said with a hearty laugh. “I thought I came up with some stories.” With a shake of her head, she walked away, still laughing.
The drunk tapped William on the shoulder. “How comes you’re both?” he asked.
“I was a gardener first, and then I found out that I was a Duke,” William explained for the third time already that evening. And to the same man. “But I walked away from my title last week.”
He turned just as more laughter broke out behind him. The woman had kissed a man and then slapped his face. Another pair of men began exchanging fierce words before fists flew and a table crashed beneath them, several around them cheering them on. The landlord dashed across the room as fast as his heavy frame would carry him, a metal bar over his head ready to smash in the heads of the troublemakers.
William let out a sigh, finding the fighting uninteresting at the moment. “I thought I would miss all these people, but to be honest, I miss my Marianne.”
The old man finished off his pint and set the mug down on the counter with a thunk. “Miss my Duchess, I do.”
“Your Duchess?” William asked the man.
“Yeah. Used to fix her shoes when I wasn’t a Duke.” The drunkard let out a laugh and clapped William on the back. “Me brother’s a Baron, too, but he works in a prison when he’s not baroning everyone, if you know what I mean!” He gave another boisterous laugh as he walked away, shaking his head as he did so. “A Duke hangin’ round the likes of me,” he add
ed with a chuckle before he was too far away for William to hear more.
“At least you have a brother,” William said as he reached for his drink. “I have no one.”
“That is where you are wrong,” a gruff voice said as a hand shot out and covered the top of his mug.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A stable boy took the reins from Marianne, and she looked over to see a white horse in a nearby stall. Her heart picked up a beat, for she had seen that horse before and knew to whom it belonged.
“Will ya be stablin’ her for overnight?” the boy asked. “There’s plenty of room for her if ya need to.”
“No, I will return shortly,” Marianne said and then chastised herself inwardly when the boy gaped at her. She had used her normal voice and there was no refuting the fact she was a woman. Reaching into a pocket, she produced a silver coin and placed it in the boy’s hand. “Say nothing.”
He grinned up at her as his dirt-stained hand closed around the coin. “Not a problem, Sir,” he said with a wink and then led the horse away.
Marianne followed the narrow alley toward the front of the pub. Two figures walked toward her, their voices in whispers. Fearing they were robbers, she braced herself for an attack, but then she recognized the woman who had caused problems for her and William the last time they were there. She slid into a crag in the wall of the pub and waited for them to pass. The man who had his arm wrapped over the woman’s shoulders was most certainly not her husband.
When the pair had passed, Marianne resumed her trek down the alleyway, coming up to the main road and the front doors of the pub. The sounds of laughter and cheering came to her ears, and she peeked in the doorway to see who she assumed was the landlord breaking up a fight. She slid through the door and allowed it to close behind her, her heart threatening to jump out of her throat. However, no one gave her a second glance, and she relaxed remembering how she was dressed. There was no reason for anyone to believe she was anyone but a young man there to have a drink.
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