by Laura Landon
Willow wasn’t sure why she felt it so necessary, but she knew that if she didn’t stand up to the Duke of Somerset now, he would try to dominate her until the day he died. “Neither my father nor my mother allowed any of us to grow up without cultivating a mind of our own, or unable to stand up for what we believed was important. My brothers are equally as independent, which is a quality I greatly admire in them.”
“Yes, it is a quality I also admire…” He paused to level her a pointed glare, then continued. “…in the men who are assigned the task of leading, be it in the government, the military, or a business.”
“But not a woman? You don’t admire a woman who is strong, and voices her opinion?”
The Duke of Somerset looked as though he was considering her question. “I can’t say that I’ve ever met a woman with such superior abilities.”
Willow couldn’t stop her eyebrows from arching. “Pray, don’t tell Her Majesty that, if you are ever in her company. Our Queen may not consider your opinion a compliment.”
The Duke of Somerset’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. It was obvious that Willow wasn’t showing herself to be the malleable wife he would have chosen for his son. Perhaps he would have even encouraged his son to cancel the wedding except that he was so desperate for her dowry.
“You are quite outspoken, my lady. If I may be so bold, I would like to offer you two bits of advice you may find helpful.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I would always take any advice under consideration.”
“Then may I suggest that you watch your words once you are married. Any successful marriage can have only one leader. I have never known a happy marriage when the wife assumes that the role of head of the household belongs to her.”
The Duke of Somerset turned to leave. “Now, if you will excuse me. The air has taken on a bit of a chill, my lady. I think I shall go back inside.” His Grace turned his back to her and walked toward the house.
“Your Grace.” She stopped him before he could leave. “You mentioned that you had two bits of advice to offer. I am most interested in what that second bit of advice is.”
The Duke of Somerset stopped. “Yes,” he said as he slowly turned to face her. “How could it have escaped me?”
The icy contempt in his eyes sent tremors of fear racing down her spine.
“I would like to suggest that you stay far away from a certain warehouse that specializes in the production of ready-made clothing. And, if you are wise, you will avoid contact with any of the riffraff connected with that establishment.”
A chill invaded Willow’s bones. “May I ask why?”
“Can’t you guess?” He glared at her with savage calmness. “It’s obvious that you may not be safe. Now, if you will excuse me.” The duke turned toward the house and Willow found herself alone in the darkness.
She leaned against the balustrade. Surely, she’d heard His Grace wrong. Had he just issued her a warning? Had he just threatened her?
The chill Willow felt didn’t go away. If anything, it impaled her with a deep-seated fear. She suddenly felt as though she’d stepped into something that would surely terrorize any sane, rational person.
Chapter 15
Willow was anxious to leave the Duke of Somerset’s townhouse. Once she arrived home, she waited impatiently until the house was quiet and her parents were asleep for the night. When she was certain she wouldn’t be heard, she left her room and went down the servant’s stairway and out the kitchen door.
Tonight, she didn’t take Marie with her. Nor did she travel in an unmarked Wyndfield carriage. She sent her trusted driver, John, to hire a hack, giving orders for the hack to wait for her one street away. When she left her house, she stayed in the shadows as she made her way to the assigned spot where the hack should be waiting. And it was there. With a whispered thank you she climbed inside. The hack shifted as John hopped up beside the driver and a moment later the rig lurched forward.
Someone must have followed her when she’d left last night. Perhaps she’d even been followed the first time she went to see Blake. How else could the Duke of Somerset know where she’d gone? Or who she’d gone to see?
A feeling of dread washed over her. What if she was the reason Blake had been attacked? What if the Duke of Somerset had somehow discovered her attraction to Blake? What if he was so afraid that she would reject his son’s suit that he’d sent men to eliminate what he considered competition?
What if it was her fault that Blake had nearly been beaten to death?
Willow brushed away such a preposterous thought. It would take a pathetic man to do such a horrid thing. Certainly not a respected man like the Duke of Somerset. Midnight surely had its way casting shadows over the most normal line of thinking.
Of course the duke wouldn’t resort to such violence.
Of course he wasn’t so desperate for her dowry that he would kill for it. Or burn Madame Boulereau’s business to stop Willow from…
Thankfully, her hired hack arrived at Blake’s warehouse and she could stop such wild thoughts from running rampant. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure they were so wild.
She stepped to the ground and looked about, checking for any sign that she’d been followed. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see anyone.
“Pay the driver,” she said, handing her footman some coins. “And tell him to come back before sunrise.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Willow made her way to the entrance of Blake’s warehouse and pounded on the door. It didn’t take long for Liam to let her in.
“How is he?” One look at the worried expression on Liam’s face told her that things were not good. Willow didn’t wait for Liam to confirm what his expression told her. She rushed through the warehouse to Blake’s office. All her fears lodged in her throat when she saw two workers resting on blankets on the floor in Blake’s office.
“He developed a fever this afternoon. I needed help to hold him down.”
Willow stepped into the room where Blake lay. One look at him and a painful weight slammed inside her breast. “Did you send for the doctor?”
Liam nodded. “He said to keep him as cool as possible. I’ve been putting cold cloths on him all day but he’s still burning up.”
Willow went to where Blake lay, and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached for his hand and held it. “I’m here, Blake,” she whispered as she placed a cloth in the ice water that sat on a stand beside the bed. When she’d wrung it out, she placed it on his forehead.
He tossed his head back and forth as if the cold on his hot flesh was painful.
“I’ve come to be with you, Blake. I’m not going to leave you.”
“Willow,” he said in a gravelly voice that lacked strength.
“Yes, Blake. I’m here.”
“Need to… leave. Now!” He swung his arms through the air as if fighting the men who’d attacked him. “Not… safe. They’ll… get… you… too. Leave!”
“No, Blake. We’re safe now.”
“No!”
He wasn’t fully conscious, and it was with immense effort that he managed to speak. As if reliving the attack, he became so agitated that Willow was afraid he might hurt himself. “Liam,” she called out and was thankful Liam was close enough to rush in to help her.
“Men!” he called out, and the two men she’d seen when she’d arrived came into the room. They each grabbed one of Blake’s arms and anchored him to the bed.
“There now. Hush,” she crooned. “We’re safe now. They can’t hurt us. We took care of them.”
“Willow,” he gasped on a whispered breath.
“Yes, Blake.” Willow pressed her cheek to Blakes’ cheek and whispered in his ear. “I’m here, Blake. You’re safe now. Just rest. You need to rest so you can get well.” Willow kissed his cheek and continued talking to him until he fell into a deep sleep.
When they were sure he was asleep, the two men released Blake’s arms and quietly left the room. Liam didn’t
leave but sat in a wing chair in the corner. Willow waited until she thought Liam had fallen asleep, too, then she lay on the bed beside Blake and wrapped her arms around him.
The intimacy of it went against her internal code, but she couldn’t stop herself from holding him. Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto the pillow beneath her. She loved him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened or how. But she loved him with all her heart.
She thought of the Marquess of Kendrick and the evening she’d just spent with him. She was fortunate that he didn’t expect her to give him her heart. Because she no longer possessed it.
She’d already given her heart to Blake.
. . . .
“My lady,” Liam said from the open doorway. “Your footman said to tell you your hack will be here shortly. The sun’s almost up.”
Willow placed a fresh cloth on Blake’s forehead and another on his chest. “Thank you, Liam.” She placed her hand on Blake’s cheek. “I think his fever has broken. He’s not as warm as before.”
Liam stepped close enough to feel Blake’s face himself. A smile lit his face. “Thank the good Lord,” he said.
Willow put laudanum in a glass of wine so it would be ready when Blake woke. When the glass was ready, she set it on the bedside table. “Would you do me a favor, Liam?”
“Of course.”
“Would you please check outside to see if anyone unknown to you is watching the warehouse?”
A frown covered Liam’s face. “Were you followed when you came?”
“No, but someone has been watching me. They know I’ve been coming here.”
He stood abruptly. “Who?”
Willow blanched. She couldn’t bring the duke’s name into this. “I don’t, that is…”
“I know. If you knew you’d have said before. Stay here while I go check.” And he left the room.
While he was gone, she thought over her dilemma. If you knew you’d have said before. Perhaps Liam was right. Perhaps shielding the duke was not the way to relieve her fears. Perhaps stating it once and for all would convince her how absurd it was to suspect the duke of such dark doings.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Liam said when he returned.
Willow breathed a sigh of relief and summoned the courage to reveal her concern. “You wouldn’t know why the Duke of Somerset would warn me to stay away from Blake, would you?” Putting her thoughts into words terrified her.
Liam’s expression told her he knew more than he indicated, but that he wouldn’t tell her. Evidently Liam had secrets, too. This was apparently another piece of information that Blake would have to reveal.
“I couldn’t say, my lady. Did you say the Duke of Somerset warned you away from Blake?”
“Yes. But perhaps I read more into his statement than he actually meant. At least last night I wasn’t followed.” At least last night she’d been able to come to Blake without the duke knowing. “I wish I could stay. I have a feeling Blake will wake soon and I’d like to be here when he does.”
“Madame Boulereau will be here. She’s moved the girls from her old place over to here, and has taken over helping Madeline with the ready-made garments.”
“What about her business? She’s been the premiere seamstress in all of London as long as I can remember.”
Liam smiled. “She’s of the opinion that her clients were beginning to take her for granted. She thinks they need to miss her before they will truly appreciate her again.”
Willow matched Liam’s smile. “That sounds like her.” Willow placed a fresh cloth on Blake’s forehead, then jumped when Blake’s fingers wrapped around her wrist.
“Willow?”
“Yes, Blake.”
“What are you… doing… here?”
Willow’s eyes filled with tears of joy and relief. His voice was weak and his words slurred, but he was awake.
“I was bored at home and thought I’d come to watch you sleep.”
Blake’s eyes opened to focus on her for a brief moment, then they closed again. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Immensely. You are really quite entertaining.”
Blake’s grunt of frustration made her smile.
“What time is it?”
“It’s nearly five of the morning.”
“You’ve been here… all night?”
“Yes. Madame Boulereau will come shortly because I have to be home before the house wakes.”
“Liam?”
“Yes, Blake.” Liam stepped close to the bed so Blake could see him.
“Are you… keeping up… with… orders?”
“Yes, Blake. We’re keeping up. Madame Boulereau has brought her seamstresses to help. And the women assembling the garments have improved their production numbers.”
Blake thrashed his head back and forth on the bed. “Don’t let her… short her own clients… for me.”
Willow lifted her gaze to Liam’s. She’d forgotten that Blake didn’t know Madame Boulereau had lost her business. She reached out and clasped her fingers around Blake’s. “There was a fire, Blake,” she said. “Madame Boulereau lost her business.”
Blake’s eyes shot open and he stared at her. “When?”
“The same night you were attacked.”
An angry growl came from Blake and startled her. She’d never heard anything so savage in her life.
“Damn him!” he roared. “Damn him!”
“Stay still,” Liam demanded. He reached out a hand to Blake’s shoulder. “It’s over. Madame Boulereau wasn’t hurt. And she’s been a lifesaver here.”
“She could have… died.”
“But she didn’t. She’s fine.”
“The bastard.”
“Who?” Willow asked. “Who do you think started the fire? Do you think it was the same man who attacked you?”
Blake was clearly and understandably upset. His breathing was heavier and he clutched at the covers.
“Here,” Willow said, lifting his head with one hand and holding the laudanum-laced wine to his mouth with the other. Blake drank deeply, then turned his head, indicating that he’d had enough.
Willow was wary of asking who Blake thought was responsible for the fire and for nearly killing him. It obviously upset him too much. She was saved from bringing the subject up again when the footman who’d accompanied her knocked on the door.
“Yes, John.”
“The hansom cab is here, my lady.”
“Yes, I’ll be right there. Don’t let him leave.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Her footman left and Willow rose. She dreaded having to say goodbye. She didn’t know when she’d be able to sneak away to come again. And she knew that she’d eventually have to tell Blake that she had agreed to marry the Marquess of Kendrick.
Telling him would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.
Chapter 16
She hadn’t been to see Blake for nearly a week. And it was the longest week of her life. She didn’t know how she’d be able to survive after she married Lord Kendrick and she wasn’t able to see him for months… years… decades.
She gave up trying to eat her breakfast and placed her fork on her plate. She readied herself to rise from the table when their butler entered the room carrying a silver salver.
“A message, my lady.”
“Thank you, Wilkins.” Willow took the message and opened it.
My Dearest Lady Willow,
Work has progressed on your gown enough
that we require another fitting. Please, come
at your earliest convenience.
As Ever Your Loyal Servant
Madame Boulereau
Willow read the message again. Then, again. And her heart broke a little more each time she read the words. The message wasn’t from Madame Boulereau. She didn’t have a gown that required fitting. Her gown had been destroyed in the fire. Madame Boulereau was obviously writing at his behest.
Willow left the table and raced to her room. She had to dev
ise a plan to see Blake without the Duke of Somerset discovering that she’d gone to see him. She pulled out two pieces of paper and wrote two notes. When she finished, she folded the notes and handed them to her maid.
“Marie, take these notes to Lady Jane and Lady Mary. Hand deliver them yourself and wait for an answer.”
Her maid took the notes, but Willow couldn’t miss the narrow-eyed glare Marie gave her. It was obvious her maid didn’t trust her. “Yes, my lady.”
“And send Rachel in to help me change.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Willow started to unbutton her pink striped morning dress. She’d just managed the last button when Rachel knocked, then entered.
“I’ll need my peach gown, Rachel.”
“The peach one, my lady?”
“Yes.”
“But you said you were never wearing that one again because your friend Lady Jane had a gown the same color.”
“I know,” Willow said. “But I’ve changed my mind.”
“As you wish,” Rachel said, leaving to get the peach gown. When she returned, she helped Willow dress, then Willow went down to wait for her friends.
. . . .
Willow paced before the window as she watched for Mary and Jane. She’d sent a note for her brother Phin to come, if he was at home. Thankfully, he was expected shortly. She listened and after a while heard footsteps approaching
“Will,” her brother said when he entered the room. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, Phin. I need a great favor.”
“Now, what have you tangled yourself up in?”
“What makes you think I’m tangled at all?”
“Because I know you. And you have that look about you.”
“What look?”
“The look that says you’re guilty of something and you need my help.”
Willow turned her gaze so Phin wouldn’t see how correct he was. “Well, if you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. I’ll fix this myself.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. I just want you to know that you haven’t fooled me. I know you’re up to something. Now, what would you like me to do?”
