Of Dukes and Deceptions: Dangerous Dukes Vol 4

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Of Dukes and Deceptions: Dangerous Dukes Vol 4 Page 9

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘I think he wants us to follow him,’ Gibson said, scratching his head.

  ‘So it seems.’ Nick dismounted and tethered his horse to a nearby tree, a strange sense of foreboding creeping through his body. ‘If Alicia’s here, then where is Matilda?’

  Jasper continued barking and looking back every few moments to make sure they were following him. Nick’s apprehension grew with every step he took. They were moving away from the river, toward a cart track Nick hadn’t noticed before.

  ‘Reckon that track’s a shortcut to the village,’ Gibson remarked.

  They rounded a bend and saw the smoke from the village chimneys in the distance, lending proof to Gibson’s theory. They also discovered the gig on its side in the centre of the path. Matilda had been felled as well, still harnessed to the vehicle. Gibson, with soothing words and gentle hands, persuaded the cob back to her feet. As she stood, the light gig righted itself and didn’t appear to be badly damaged. Matilda seemed none the worse for the experience either and set about cropping a patch of grass.

  Satisfied that Gibson had the situation under control, Nick shielded his eyes with his hand and scanned the area. A splash of something red in a nearby gully caught his attention. He headed towards it, preceded by Jasper, and found Alicia spread-eagled on the ground. She was unconscious, and a pool of blood seeped into the fabric of her gown. It had already spread beneath her left arm and discoloured the muddy ground.

  Nick’s heart plummeted. She was so pale, so completely lifeless, that he feared the worst. He knelt beside her and felt for a pulse. To his surprise and considerable relief he found one, strong and regular. Unable to do anything to help her regain her senses, he instead turned his attention to the source of the blood. He tore the fabric of her gown away from her arm, looking for the site of her wound. He stemmed the flow with his handkerchief until it slowed to a trickle and the damage became visible.

  Just for a moment Nick thought he was seeing things. But he’d observed many similar wounds during his days in the military and couldn’t delude himself. He drew a sharp intake of breath, shocked to discover that her tumble from the gig was not the cause of her injury.

  Alicia Woodley had been shot.

  Chapter Seven

  Nick tied his handkerchief tightly around the wound. From his brief inspection it seemed the bullet had grazed the fleshy part of her arm, which would account for the amount of blood. A shiver of apprehension passed through him. Had her attacker been a better shot, had he aimed a fraction more to the right, the damage would have been terminal.

  Had she been deliberately attacked or was it just a horrible accident? It must be the former. He couldn’t think why anyone would wish to harm her, but if it had been an honest mistake, then surely the perpetrator would have rushed to her aid.

  ‘What’s happened to her?’

  Nick started violently. He had not heard Gibson approaching. ‘She’s been shot.’

  Always reliable in a crisis, Gibson didn’t waste precious time expressing his shock. ‘Is she alive?’ he asked, his expression grim.

  ‘Fortunately, it appears to be a flesh wound. Her pulse is strong.’

  Gibson scowled. ‘Who’s got it in for her then? A disgruntled poacher, fed up with her interfering with his traps?’

  ‘I hardly think a lowly poacher would resort to murder.’

  ‘I suppose not. The last thing they’d want is to bring the authorities down on their backs.’ Gibson examined her for himself. ‘Why do you think she’s unconscious then?’

  ‘She would have hit her head when she fell from the gig, I imagine. I am more concerned about that than the wound itself.’

  ‘A gun being discharged at close quarters would frighten even a sturdy nag like Matilda. She’d have bolted and Miss Woodley, being injured, would’ve lost control.’

  ‘Very likely.’ Nick shuddered, well aware how fortunate she had been to escape with her life. ‘Thank God her dog had the sense to seek help.’

  Gibson nodded. ‘We’d never have found her on this path otherwise. It’s not visible from the road and ain’t one I’ve come across since being here.’

  ‘This accursed place is a rabbit warren of paths and tracks.’

  Nick stripped off his coat, lifted Alicia and wrapped her in it. As gently as he could, he carried her over the rough ground. When he reached the gig he passed her to Gibson, climbed onto the driving seat and reached down with both arms to reclaim her. He was then faced with the problem of making her comfortable enough to avoid opening her wound again. The drive back to Ravenswing Manor would be comparatively short, but the track was rutted so he wouldn’t be able to avoid some jolting. After a moment’s thought he removed his waistcoat and balled it into a pillow. He placed it in his lap and laid Alicia across the seat with her head resting on the makeshift cushion situated in his groin. He didn’t spare a thought for the unconventional arrangement. He was more concerned with saving her life.

  He encouraged Matilda to move forward with a firm slap of the reins on her quarters. She turned to stare at him for a moment, as though weighing up his request. Eventually she deigned to take a slow plodding step forward.

  ‘Go ahead with our two mounts, Gibson. Warn the family that Alicia has been injured. The doctor should be sent for immediately.’

  Nick was actually grateful for Matilda’s steady plod. She obviously knew this track well and picked her way over the rutted ground with a delicacy that belied her size. In the end he stopped trying to guide her and left her to choose the best path for herself. Jasper jogged beside the gig, casting frequent anxious glances upward.

  ‘Don’t worry, old chap.’ Nick gently stroked a stray strand of hair away from Alicia’s deathly pale face, unsure whether he was reassuring Jasper or himself. ‘She will survive if I have any say in the matter.’

  The entire family stood on the front steps, waiting for Nick. He merely glanced in their direction as he lifted Alicia’s head from his lap and passed her to the waiting Gibson. Then he climbed to the ground and reclaimed his burden. In the periphery of his vision he was aware of Maria Woodley’s features pinched tight with resentment.

  ‘Thank the good Lord that you happened to come upon her.’ Woodley scampered to keep up with Nick as he followed him into the house.

  ‘Save your thanks for her dog,’ he said, taking the stairs two at a time. ‘It was he who guided us to her.’

  ‘Then he will be rewarded.’ Woodley looked at the dog, hobbling up the stairs at Nick’s heels, still glancing anxiously up at Alicia. ‘I don’t care to consider the consequences if she had been left alone out there for any longer.’

  ‘Doubtless she was interfering with the poachers’ traps again,’ Frederick said. ‘One of them must have fired at her.’

  Nick didn’t respond, saving his breath to carry Alicia. He laid her carefully on her bed, retrieved his coat and reluctantly surrendered her to her maid’s care.

  ‘Her wound is not serious,’ he told Janet. ‘It’s her concussion that concerns me.’

  ‘Leave her to me, your grace. The doctor’s been sent for and I’ll make her comfortable until he arrives.’

  Satisfied that Alicia was in good hands Nick left the room, deep in thought. In his experience poachers who targeted small game were too poor to possess shotguns. And even if any of them did, would they really discharge them on Woodley’s land in broad daylight and risk drawing their presence to the attention of the estate’s gamekeepers? He very much doubted it. Besides, he understood there were no deer in that section of the park, so poachers would have no occasion to be there with guns.

  Alicia had not been shot by a poacher but callously attacked by someone who knew her habits and wanted the blame to be placed on the poachers. Her injury was no accident. Someone had deliberately tried to kill her.

  And they had come within a hairsbreadth of succeeding.

  Alicia opened her eyes, dazed and disorientated. Her head felt as though someone hammered at it from within and a vi
cious pain pulled at her arm. Janet’s careworn features loomed into her line of vision and she immediately felt reassured.

  ‘Where am I?’ Her throat felt parched and her words came out in a raspy whisper. She attempted to lift her head but the effort made her dizzy and she sank back onto her pillows.

  ‘Thank the good Lord you’re restored to us! You gave us all a right fright.’ Janet held a glass to her lips and supported the back of her head with a gentle hand. ‘Here, lamb, drink this.’

  Alicia took a few sips of the cool water. It tasted as sweet as champagne as it trickled slowly down her throat.

  ‘What happened to me?’

  Janet pursed her lips. ‘Damned poachers discharged a gun and caught your arm.’

  ‘Ah.’ Alicia touched the injury and winced. ‘I vaguely remember a bang but nothing after that. Is Matilda all right?’

  ‘She’s as right as a ram’s horn, don’t you fret about her. It’d take more than a gunshot to upset that old nag.’

  She frowned and immediately regretted it. The gesture set her head pounding again. She reached up and touched a dressing on her temple. ‘I must have been thrown.’ She allowed a pause as remnants of her morning’s activities slowly returned to her. ‘I was on the old cart track. No one else uses it. How was I found?’

  ‘Thank that mutt of yours.’

  On cue, Jasper uncurled himself from in front of the fire and trotted across to her. He wagged his stumpy tail and licked the hand she reached out to him.

  ‘What is he doing in here? My uncle doesn’t like him in the house.’

  ‘It’s his reward for fetching help.’ Janet dabbed at her eyes with a large handkerchief. ‘If he hadn’t, I dread to—’

  ‘I keep telling everyone how clever he is. Did he come all the way back to the house to fetch my uncle?’

  ‘No, love. He found the duke and Mr. Gibson riding along the road above you and brought them to your aid.’

  ‘His grace rescued me?’ She fondled Jasper’s ear almost aggressively as she digested this alarming information.

  ‘He attended to your wound, drove you back in the gig and carried you up here himself. He wouldn’t let anyone else do it.’ Janet paused. ‘If he hadn’t and you’d lain out there unconscious, bleeding and all, I dread to think what would have become of you.’

  Alicia blushed. ‘I must thank him.’

  ‘Time enough for that when you’re feeling better. But first, all the family’s anxious about you. Are you up to seeing any of them? Mr. Frederick keeps sending a maid to ask after you.’

  The last person Alicia wished to see was Frederick. ‘No, I don’t think I can—’

  Janet, the most tenacious of gatekeepers, immediately took control of the situation. ‘Don’t worry, lamb, I’ll keep you clear of them. Just leave it to me and get some rest.’

  She was as good as her word and didn’t allow anyone to cross the threshold until the following morning.

  A night’s repose had done much to restore Alicia’s wits. Naturally, in the morning her first anxiety was for her animals. Even though Janet assured her that Will had everything under control, she would not be satisfied until she had double-checked and insisted upon getting out of bed. She sat beside the fire, clad in a warm morning gown with long sleeves that covered her injury. Before she could summon the energy to make her way to her barn, her aunt bustled into the room.

  ‘I cannot cancel this evening’s entertainment because of your indisposition, Alicia,’ she said, after making the most cursory of enquiries about her niece’s health, ‘so there’s no point your thinking I shall. Arrangements are too far ahead. Your absence will make the numbers at table uneven but there’s no help for that.’ She glowered, as though she suspected Alicia of contriving her accident simply to make a nuisance of herself.

  ‘We cannot have that, Aunt, not when you’ve gone to so much trouble.’ Alicia attempted to keep the amusement out of her voice. ‘I dare say I shall be strong enough by this evening to attend your dinner, even if the dancing afterwards is beyond me.’

  If Alicia had thought her aunt would display gratitude, then she was to be disappointed. ‘No, that would not be sensible. Don’t spare it another thought. Upon reflection, perhaps I should not have mentioned the matter. You would be better advised to remain here and have your supper sent up on a tray.’

  ‘Thank you, Aunt. But I believe I shall enjoy the gathering and mean to attend it.’

  Quite why she was insisting upon being part of an assembly she would infinitely prefer to avoid, Alicia could not have said. She anticipated deriving little pleasure from the party but had a duty to thank the duke for saving her life. He could hardly call upon her here in her boudoir, and in all likelihood he would leave Ravenswing Manor tomorrow. She wouldn’t get another opportunity to say her piece so tonight it would have to be.

  Alicia suspected that a visit from Frederick would follow close on the heels of her aunt’s. Anxious to avoid the confrontation, she ignored Janet’s disapproving frown and slipped out of her chamber, Jasper at her side. She took the back stairs, from which she could reach her animal hospital without the likelihood of detection. Both her arm and her temple protested at the speed of her movement but the dizziness had gone. Her mind, at least, was now perfectly clear.

  She had not been in the barn for more than ten minutes before the door opened. Her heart sank. Surely Frederick had not discovered her already? She looked up and couldn’t conceal her surprise at seeing Maria standing in the doorway. Her cousin lifted her sprigged muslin skirts and stepped delicately across the floor, wrinkling her nose at imaginary odours.

  ‘Maria, whatever brings you here?’

  ‘I was told that you are at death’s door but obviously the accounts of your injuries were greatly exaggerated.’

  Alicia placed the fox cub she had been treating back in its pen. She knew her cousin too well to take offence at her ill-mannered remarks. ‘Thank you for your concern, Maria. As you can see, I am not seriously injured. I am told that the duke’s quick thinking saved the day.’

  ‘He was heroic and hasn’t complained about the inconvenience you caused to his plans.’ Alicia stifled a smile but remained silent. ‘Mama says you insist upon attending tonight’s party. Do you think that is wise? Papa says people who have had concussions ought not to overexert themselves.’

  Alicia bit back a second smile. Maria was so transparent. ‘My aunt was concerned about her numbers being uneven, so it’s the very least I can do, given the inconvenience you claim I have already caused.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no need to worry about that.’ She flapped a hand. ‘I dare say no one will even notice you are not there. Frederick does not wish his fiancée to be overset. He is adamant on the point.’

  ‘I am not engaged to Frederick, Maria,’ Alicia said with a weary sigh.

  ‘Not yet perhaps, but you’ve agreed to think about his proposal.’

  ‘I have done no such thing. I merely—’

  ‘I think you are being very clever, pretending not to want him. It is a sure-fire way to increase his love for you. However, it is clear to me that you will eventually accept him.’ She spread her hands in a gesture that implied Alicia had little choice in the matter if she didn’t wish to end her days as an old maid. Maria couldn’t know that at that precise moment spinsterhood had never appeared more attractive to Alicia. ‘I mean, you love this house and the stud and, well, everything about Ravenswing Manor. So how could you seriously consider refusing Frederick?’

  Alicia allowed her cousin to ramble on about the benefits of the match, wondering why she was so keen to promote it. Maria seldom worried her head about anything that didn’t impinge directly upon her own well-being.

  ‘Are you listening to me, Alicia?’

  Alicia reached for a jar and unscrewed the lid. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon, Maria, what did you—’

  ‘Yuck, what is that, for mercy’s sake?’

  Alicia smiled. ‘A combination of elderberry and mand
rake root of my own concoction. It is effective in healing the animals’ more serious injuries.’

  ‘It smells vile.’ Maria took a step back, watching Alicia as she carefully replaced the lid on the jar and stored it in her medicine cupboard. ‘Does it work?’

  ‘Usually, but I must use it sparingly. It is highly toxic, you see.’

  ‘Then surely it will kill the animals, not cure them.’

  ‘I use it on external wounds that don’t heal naturally. I have to ensure they can’t lick it away, though. If they were to ingest even a little, they would die very painful deaths.’

  Maria appeared to lose interest after that and returned to the subject of the forthcoming party. She lived in expectation of making a favourable impression upon the duke in her fabulous new ball gown and felt confident that she would spend half the night dancing with him.

  Alicia’s attention was now focused on a badger with a badly injured paw. She didn’t believe Maria stood an earthly chance of achieving that ambition but knew it would be a waste of her breath to say so.

  ‘Any news from the sickroom, Gibson?’

  ‘There ain’t anyone in it.’

  Nick frowned. ‘How can that be?’

  ‘It seems Miss Woodley’s been in her animal hospital most of the afternoon.’

  ‘Blast! I wish I had known. I urgently need to talk to her.’

  ‘Talk?’ Gibson’s expression was openly sceptical.

  ‘Yes, Gibson, talk.’ Nick sighed. ‘She needs to be aware that her accident was no accident.’

  ‘Won’t that overset her?’

  ‘I am persuaded that she’s made of sterner stuff. Besides, no one outside this house has any reason to wish her dead, so it must be one of her family who wants her done away with.’ He paced the length of the room in some agitation. ‘And what better time to try than when the house is crowded with strangers, as it will be tonight?’

  ‘I suppose so. By the way, the word below stairs is that Frederick Woodley’s renewed his addresses and this time Miss Woodley’s agreed to consider them.’

 

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