Danger to the Duke

by Barbara Cartland

  There was a cup and a spoon on the table beside her which told him that Jason had given her more drugs to keep her unconscious until the Vicar arrived in the morning.

  Lying on the table where Jason had thrown it was the Special Licence, which Michael picked up and put it swiftly into his pocket.

  Then leaving the door open, he went back into the hall and along the passage to the Estate Office.

  He took a lantern from the passage.

  There was paper, ink and a pen on Mr. Barrett’s desk and quickly Michael wrote,

  “Sir,

  Mr. Cyril has sacked me and advised me to leave at once. I am departing now with my sister.

  Thank you and Mrs. Smithson for your kindness.

  Mr. Morris.”

  Rushing back to the hall, Michael picked up his suitcase and Adela’s bag again.

  He ran down the steps from the front door and across the front of the house, keeping to the grass verge that edged the narrow flowerbeds.

  It was very unlikely that even if anyone was capable of listening he would be heard, but he was taking no chances.

  As he reached the stables he found that Adela had carried out his instructions perfectly.

  One of the stable boys, still looking somewhat sleepy, had put the horses between the shafts and Adela was now waiting for him, already sitting in the chaise.

  “I have done everything you told me,” she said as Michael joined her.

  “You have been very clever,” he told her, “and I have packed your bag.”

  He put it down beside her and his own cases at the back of the chaise.

  When they were secure he said to the stable boy,

  “There are two horses tethered at the top of the path which goes past the cascade. Bring them down and turn them loose in the paddock.”

  “I’ll do that,” the boy replied as Michael gave him a gold sovereign.

  He looked at it with an expression of incredulity before he stammered his thanks.

  Climbing into the driver’s seat, Michael drove the chaise slowly out from the cobbled yard.

  The horses were fresh and he had to hold them firmly to draw them to a halt outside the front door.

  He handed the reins to Adela saying,

  “There is someone we have to take with us and I will explain why in a moment.”

  Jumping out of the chaise, he ran up the steps, through the open door and into the morning room.

  He picked up the prone heiress just as she was with the quilted rug over her and carried her rapidly down the steps and into the chaise.

  Adela looked with astonishment as Michael placed the woman gently down beside her.

  “She is drugged and unconscious,” he whispered.

  “Look after her, we have not very far to go.”

  Obediently Adela put one hand onto her to steady her.

  In case she should slip off the seat, Michael hurried round the chaise and climbing in again, he took the reins from Adela.

  Then he turned the horses round and set off down the drive.

  This was the one moment he knew was rather risky, but it was most unlikely that Jason would be looking out of the window and even if he did see the chaise, it would take him some time to come downstairs.

  As it was there was no one shouting after them.

  He considered that Jason would have been as drunk as the rest of the party before he retired to bed and he would have no idea until the next morning that the heiress he wanted to marry was out of his reach.

  Adela was holding tightly onto the unconscious woman and as they drove down the drive, she turned her head to ask,

  “Who is she and why is she in this state?”

  “One of the men you were not allowed to meet kidnapped her. She is very rich and he wanted her money.”

  “Oh, poor woman! It was very kind of you to save her.”

  “I can only hope that is what I have done.”

  Michael drove through the iron gates and turned left remembering what the footmen had told him and found that their directions had been quite correct.

  About half a mile down the lane there was another pair of gates, but not as grand as those leading to Grangemoore.

  Michael drew his horses to a standstill outside the lodge beside the gates.

  Once again he handed Adela the reins and ran to the door, hammering on it noisily.

  After he had knocked several times, someone looked out of the window above him.

  He thought it was masculine and a minute or two later the door was opened by an elderly but sensible-looking man holding a lighted candle.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I have brought your Mistress back,” Michael told him. “She has been kidnapped and drugged unconscious.”

  “What are you saying?” enquired the man. “It can’t be Miss Musgrove.”

  “She is in my chaise. I will bring her in to your lodge.

  If you have a wife, call her to come downstairs to help look after her.”

  The man was aware that someone in authority was giving orders and Michael heard him shouting up the stairs as he went to the other side of the chaise.

  Gently he lifted Miss Musgrove and carrying her he walked into the lodge.

  The flustered lodge-keeper’s wife by this time was downstairs, wearing a flannel dressing gown and her hair in curling pins.

  “It is Miss Musgrove!” she exclaimed as Michael appeared. “I didn’t believe what my husband was saying to me.”

  “I rescued her from kidnappers,” explained Michael,

  “and now you must look after her until she regains consciousness. But by then they may try again.”

  The woman gave a little scream of horror.

  Michael put Miss Musgrove down into an armchair and the man slipped a stool under her legs.

  “Now what you have to do,” Michael told him, “is collect every able-bodied man employed on this estate and tell them to keep guard over their Mistress.”

  He paused to ascertain that the man understood the gravity of the situation.

  “There is just a chance,” he continued, “and you must take no risks, that the kidnappers will try to abduct her again.”

  “I can’t believe such things be goin’ on ’ere in the middle of the country,” his wife exclaimed, “and if you asks me it’s somethin’ to do with all them awful people up at the ’all.”

  Michael thought that she had certainly hit the nail on the head, however he did not wish to say too much more.

  “Look after her,” he ordered, “and when she is well enough, tell her to be much more careful in the future.”

  “I expects she’ll want to thank you, sir,” said the man,

  “for saving her.”

  “I don’t want any thanks and I am only glad to have saved her from being robbed of a very considerable sum which undoubtedly would have been demanded for her release.”

  He thought as he spoke it was unlikely that Miss Musgrove, when she recovered, would repudiate this account of the matter, but it would be a mistake for her ever to know who had been her rescuer.

  What was important now was that he himself should get away, so he hurried back into the chaise and managed to back the horses out of the gate onto the road.

  The lodge-keeper watched him and waved as Michael drove off.

  As he did so Adela murmured,

  “That was very kind and wonderful of you. How could that wretched woman have been drugged in the first place?”

  “I have no idea,” replied Michael, “and it is an episode we must both try to forget.”

  Adela gave a little sigh.

  “I want to forget everything that has happened tonight – at least nearly everything.”

  She looked at him as she spoke.

  He knew what had happened in the little hut was something he would never forget.

  They drove back past the gates of Grangemoore and then as the road was straight, Michael gave the horses their heads and allowed them to g
allop as swiftly as they could.

  Only when they had travelled quite a distance did Adela turn and ask,

  “Where are we going?”

  There was just a little pause before Michael replied,

  “To be married.”

  He spoke quietly and after a moment she murmured,

  “What did you say?”

  “I have just told you that we are going to be married and that, my darling Adela, is exactly what we are going to do.”

  She moved a little closer to him.

  “I cannot believe it,” she sighed. “Are you really asking me to marry you?”

  “I love you,” Michael answered, “and I believe, my precious, that you love me.”

  “I do love you, I love you with my all heart and all my soul,” said Adela, “but I did not know that was what I was feeling was love until you kissed me.”

  Michael smiled at her but he did not speak and she continued,

  “I just want to be with you. I was frightened when I was alone, but I do know you are the most marvellous man I had ever met in my whole life.”

  “I thought you were quite content being my sister.”

  “I would have been anything you asked of me, as long as you did not send me away.”

  “How could I possibly do so after I had seen you?”

  Michael asked her. “You are so very beautiful, my darling, but that can cause a lot of problems.”

  “You mean you had to keep me away from those men in the house? Mrs. Smithson told me how awful they were and I was never to let them see me.”

  “Well thank God they never did!” exclaimed Michael.

  “Now as I want to look after you properly for the rest of your life, we have to get married.”

  Adela put her hand very gently on his.

  “Are you quite sure that is what you want?” she asked.

  “I thought you might find a wife rather a bore and that there must be hundreds of ravishing women who want to marry you.”

  “Not hundreds! But until I met you, I had no wish to marry anyone.”

  “I still cannot believe it,” sighed Adela in a rapt little voice. “When I am married to you, Step-mama can exert no control over me.”

  “None at all and that is why we must get married immediately.”

  He realised that, because she was very astute, she was wondering how it would be possible.

  Then he told her softly,

  “I have acquired a Special Licence and all I have to do is to alter the names on it.”

  “Will that be legal?”

  “I think so and it is doubtful if any parson will ask questions.”

  “So we really can be married?” cried Adela. “But how and where? I have no proper clothes.”

  “We have a great deal to do,” admitted Michael. “I am planning it all out in my mind and for the moment you will have to trust me.”

  “Of course I trust you and I will do anything you want me to do. But of course I wish to look pretty for you on my wedding day.”

  “That will not be difficult, because you are the loveliest woman I have ever seen. It is not what you wear, it is you that matters.”

  “That is just the sort of thing you would say!”

  She put her cheek for a moment against his arm.

  “Can this all really be happening or am I dreaming?”

  “That is exactly what I have been wondering myself,”

  replied Michael. “And if I had not stopped in the road when you hailed me and taken you away from what was frightening you, I might at this moment be dead.”

  “You are not to say that word or even think about it,”

  scolded Adela. “I am quite certain that my Guardian Angel told me to try to stop you and your horses. He also made you say ‘yes’ when I pleaded with you to take me away.”

  “Your Guardian Angel and of course mine as well,”

  Michael told her, “still has a great deal to do for us. But just at the moment I must concentrate on driving these horses as quickly as I can.”

  “Are we going to London?”

  “Eventually, but we have to stay somewhere on the way and I thought we would be safest and happiest at the Fox and Goose where we stayed before.”

  “Oh, yes! Do let’s stay there!” agreed Adela. “It was such a delightful little place and they were so kind and I felt safe because I was with you.”

  “That is just what you will always feel,” promised Michael, “from now on and forever.”

  He drove for some time without speaking.

  The moon and the stars faded, the sun rose in the East and the countryside looked glorious in its golden rays.

  Michael felt hungry as he had eaten nothing since his early supper with Mrs. Smithson yesterday evening and he was sure that Adela felt the same.

  His map told him that there was a small village not far ahead, and when they reached it, they took a quick breakfast at the village inn.

  It was not a particularly pretty inn and there were two commercial travellers sitting at an adjacent table, so they said very little.

  They just ate a plate of eggs and bacon and drank down some rather weak coffee as quickly as they could and then Michael hurried Adela back to the chaise and they were on the road again.

  Now the sun was not only dazzling but warm and the horses were not as fast as they had been when they had started.

  The villages they passed through did not seem to have particularly pleasant-looking inns and it was two o’clock before they finally found something suitable.

  Again they ate a very quick meal and after consulting his map, Michael saw with relief that the village where they had stayed earlier was only a few miles further on.

  He drove away from the inn.

  Then to Adela’s surprise he stopped by the side of the road under the shade of a large elm tree.

  “Why are we stopping?” asked Adela.

  “I have something I must do.”

  He put down the reins, knowing that there was no need for Adela to hold the horses as they were growing tired.

  He went to the back of the chaise and opening one of his cases, he took out the small secretarial box which carried his important documents.

  In it was the small pot of ink, his pen and a solution he had often used that could erase errors on a letter or a document.

  Sitting down on the back of the chaise he pulled the Special Licence from his pocket and erased first Jason’s name and then Margaret Musgrove’s.

  It was at this moment that Michael realised with a faint smile of amusement that he had no idea what Adela’s name was, nor did she know his.

  Carrying the Special Licence in his hand he walked slowly to the front of the chaise.

  “It seems, my precious,” he said, “a rather belated question, but I do not know your name.”

  Adela gave a delightful little laugh.

  “I was wondering when you would ask me who I am and perhaps when you know you will not wish to marry me.”

  “I am prepared to marry you whatever your name may be,” replied Michael. “And I must now tell you, my darling, and I will explain why later, that Martin Morris is actually not my real name. It is really Michael Moore. Do you think you could get used to calling me Michael from now on?”

  As he spoke he bent forward and his lips sought hers.

  He had deliberately refrained from kissing her, although he had longed to do so.

  They had such a long journey ahead of them and he must not linger, but now because he could not contain himself any longer he kissed her gently at first.

  Then pulling her closer his lips became demanding and more possessive.

  “I love you, I love you,” whispered Adela. “I have been longing to kiss you all the way here.”

  “And I have been dying to kiss you, my dearest wonderful Adela, but it is very important we should get away and even more important that we should be married.”

  She looked up at him with adoring eyes.

&n
bsp; Michael thought no woman could be more beautiful.

  “Now we must start at the beginning. What is your name?”

  “It is Crawley,” replied Adela, “and perhaps I should tell you that Papa was Lord Crawley.”

  Michael stared at her.

  “Do you mean the Lord Crawley who discovered that magnificent tomb in Egypt?”

  Adela gave a little laugh.

  “That was a long time ago when he was a young man.

  It was really what started him on his career as a miner for metals.”

  “I suppose I might have guessed when you told me he had discovered gold in the Caucasus and emeralds in the Ural Mountains. I have always admired your father’s achievements and, of course, I read the book he wrote about his explorations.”

  “Did you really?” asked Adela. “That is very exciting and I do wish Papa was alive to talk to you about all his discoveries. There were so many and when he died there was no one I could talk to about them.”

  “I want to hear the whole story and that will be our topic of conversation when you are tired of hearing me tell you I love you.”

  “I will never tire of that.”

  She put her arm around his neck as she spoke and drew his head towards hers.

  “You are not to delay me,” Michael told her firmly.

  “There is still so much to do before you become my wife.”

  “Then let us hurry and do it!”

  Michael kissed her again.

  Then returning to the back of the chaise he filled in her name and his own as Michael Moore.

  He had no intention as yet of letting anyone know he was the Fifth Duke of Grangemoore.

  When he looked at the Special Licence it was very difficult to see that the names had been altered and he considered it most unlikely that the parson would be curious.

  He had noticed when they left the Fox and Goose on the trip to Grangemoore that there was a very pretty old Norman Church at the end of the village and thought it would be an appropriate place for them to be married.

  When the names on the Special Licence had dried, he climbed back into the driving-seat.

  “Now we have not so very far to go.”

  They reached the pretty village and the ancient Church and Michael drew up the horses beside the gate to the Vicarage next door.