He opened the creaking gates wide, wedging them open with rocks, and then waved to Miss Wood, who nodded and proceeded to close the shutters on the carriage lanterns. Wise of her. Satisfied she would remain undetected, he ran down the path.
Beech trees lined the drive toward the mansion. Once close enough to see the front doors, he crouched behind a box hedge to survey the terrain.
Upstairs, behind barred windows, was a lighted room where there was movement. Loud voices were raised in alarm.
“Get the dogs!”
Someone from upstairs must have spotted him. Several rooms soon became lit. Daniel sprinted to the closest large tree—a chestnut with thick foliage and low hanging branches—and swung himself up.
He had scaled to the third branch when men poured out the front doors. Watching the unfolding drama below, he blindly reached for the next branch up and touched what felt like a boot. His pulse rocked and he looked up, but in the darkness, he could not see what or whom he had disturbed.
Fear kept him silent. If someone else hid in this tree, that person likely did not want to be discovered any more than Daniel, which should work to his benefit.
Below, two men sprinted along the drive toward the front gates. Fear hammered in Daniel’s chest and he silently cursed. He should have warned Miss Wood to wait farther up the road.
He heard the sound of dogs barking behind the mansion and soon, a man handling the leash of a half a dozen hounds came round the side of the house, followed by a couple of more men.
No longer caring about the other tree occupant, Daniel scampered up to the next limb and came face-to-face with a slender young man. A breeze stirred the leaves and moonlight shot through to highlight both their faces. Daniel stared at his fellow tree dweller and he stared back, his mouth open. Daniel gave him a cursory nod and climbed up to the next branch.
The dogs made straight for the chestnut tree, barking ferociously.
“Come down,” the houndskeeper said.
Another man pointed a musket up into the branches. “Come down.”
Daniel contemplated his limited choices when the young man in the branch below him spoke. “It is only me. Go away.”
“Your grace?” the houndskeeper said.
The Duke of Morton was in the tree beside him?
“I beg your pardon, your grace,” the other servant said, and lowered his musket, as if finding the duke hidden up a tree was a normal occurrence. “We thought it might be the lady.”
Faith? Had she escaped?
“And you threatened to shoot her?” the duke asked. “If you threaten her again, you shall be sorry.”
“Pardon me, your grace,” the houndskeeper said, then turned to quiet the dogs. A moment later, he asked, “Umm . . . is she up there with ye?”
“Certainly not,” the duke replied. “She is abed.”
“No, your grace, she is gone.”
Daniel’s heart leaped. Faith, his clever, wonderful girl.
“Your brother has put us on search duty,” the servant added. “Never fear, we shall find her for you.”
With a whistle, he led the whining dogs away.
Daniel stayed in place, wondering at this night’s strange events. He was in the same tree as the man betrothed to the woman he loved. A woman who had rescued herself.
Slowly, Daniel descended to the branch below and sat, his legs gently swaying. The young duke stayed seated with his back to the trunk, hugging his knees. He watched Daniel as if fascinated. Why had he not given up Daniel’s position?
Below, searchers scurried about with lanterns, scouring the premises for Faith. He prayed wherever she had gone, she would stay safe. The dogs’ barks came from a distance now. The duke shifted sideways until he sat with his legs down, his posture mimicking Daniel’s.
“Is this tree a frequent haunt, your grace?” he whispered.
The young man’s legs stopped swinging. “I know you.”
“I doubt that, your grace. I, however, know Lady Faith. And you will not be marrying her, of that be certain.”
Morton remained silent a moment and then said, “My mother is set on the match.”
The answer was stunning. This was a grown man, an aristocrat no less, and he was being ordered around by his mother? “Do you always do as told?”
“You do not know her,” Morton said in a quiet voice.
“You have the right to rule your own life.”
“You make it sound easy.” Morton’s glance was filled with envy. “I do not know how to disobey her. I lack courage.”
“Courage is overrated.” He thought of all the times he had disobeyed Sir Phillip this past year. “What you need, your grace, is an attitude of defiance. For that, all one requires is foolhardiness.” He gave him a cheeky grin. “Something my employer says I have by the cellar-full.”
Morton looked confused and intrigued.
Since the lad seemed to need enlightening, and Daniel had time to spare before he could safely descend and go in search of Faith, he decided to tutor this timid duke. “It is simple. Look her in the eye and say, no, and damn the consequences.”
Morton chuckled, but then his humor faded. He went pale. “My father died when I was a child.”
The abrupt topic change was a surprise. Daniel was curious for word of a man who might have been father to them both and so waited to hear where this led. A check below showed the number of searchers walking about with lanterns had grown fewer as they spread out across the estate. He should soon be able to descend.
“It is rumored his death was due to consumption,” Morton said. “The same disease that killed his first wife.” He gave Daniel a look brimming with anxiety.
Not knowing what Morton was getting at by pointing out this connection, Daniel did not respond.
“I had an older brother, once,” Morton added. “He was stolen. And presumed killed.” Again, he gave Daniel an anxious sideways look.
Recalling his own strong resemblance to the late duke, Daniel wondered at the conclusion Morton seemed to be drawing. Surely he was not suggesting that Daniel was his older legitimate half-brother. “What do you mean, presumed dead?”
“His body was never recovered. Everyone believed that he drowned in the Thames. When he was six years old.”
Daniel went utterly still. He had been found in the river, half drowned, when he was about six. Was this an odd coincidence, or had the people who found him mistaken his age?
Morton hung his head. “I do not want to die like them.”
The statement captured Daniel’s full attention, dragging him away from impossible possibilities. Was Morton implying that Daniel’s parents’ deaths and his half-brother’s attempted child-snatching were linked? The idea seemed ludicrous. Who would dare commit such crimes against a duke’s family?
Sir Phillip would ask, Who has the most to gain?
His suspicion about the dowager duchess spiraled upward. “What does this have to do with your mother?”
“Before she married my father, she was an herbal healer who worked on my father’s estate. People from miles around used to seek her out when they were sick, because she had a magical touch with herbs. She knew how to heal.”
And how to kill.
The sentence went unspoken but it clanged like a thunder bolt in Daniel’s mind.
“When my father’s beloved first wife became ill, he asked my mother to care for her. But his wife died. Shortly after, my father married my mother. And then, just after I was born, he died.”
In the pregnant silence that followed, Morton mouthed the words, “I am afraid of her.”
As he should be, if she was, indeed, a murderess many times over. Daniel struggled to come to terms with the duke’s revelations. Daniel’s parents might have been murdered and he might be this young
duke’s half-brother. Elder half-brother. Which would make Daniel the rightful Duke of Morton.
Morton gave him a concerned glance. “I tell you this because if she sees you, your life will again be in danger.” Another frown marred the young duke’s forehead. “As it is, she will be angry enough tonight.”
“Because Lady Faith escaped?” Daniel’s insides were shaking with shock. He was still struggling to understand what he had just learned. Morton shook his head.
“Then why?”
The silence lasted longer this time. Finally, the young man reached inside his pocket and pulled out an object. It was wrapped in silk. He unfolded the edges for Daniel to see.
A large emerald gleamed in the moonlight.
Morton gently fondled the stone, and then tucked it back out of sight. “Mother will be angry when she discovers it gone. It is her favorite brooch.”
Daniel looked at the young man. Being light-fingered must run in the family. And what else had Morton filched? The regent’s buckles, perhaps? He had been there at Carleton House that night. Had he taken them for his mother, or for himself? If he simply liked to steal pretty things, why had he put the buckles into the Duke of Burley’s pocket? And then why steal the buckles back from Burley at his club?
There were so many unanswered questions. None of this tale made sense. He would discuss his findings with Sir Phillip and hope the man’s keen intellect could make sense of it. For now, though, his most urgent concern was finding Faith and spiriting her away.
But there was one question he had to ask. “Why?” Daniel asked the young duke. “Why are you revealing this to me?”
Morton blinked at him in silence, and then said, “When I was little, I used to pretend that my elder brother was still alive and we were friends.”
And in Morton’s timid gaze, Daniel saw the young man he had spied while he had been inside Morton’s hearth. The one who had been intimidated by Granger and ridiculed by his mother. What a lonely life he must lead. Morton’s elder brother might still be dead, but Daniel now knew that chances were high that he and Morton were related. Even if his father had not wanted a bastard son around, it warmed his heart to know that this young duke wanted to befriend him.
With a grin, Daniel held out his hand. “Shall we make a pact of it, then? Friends and brothers for life?”
Morton hesitated a moment, and then wearing a serious expression, he firmly shook Daniel’s hand. “I promise I will not allow her to hurt you again.”
FAITH CLIMBED out of the tunnel and into the stables, excitement and dread mingling at what she must accomplish next. The place appeared empty. There was no movement except by the horses, their skins shivering and tails flicking to dislodge flies. High above, moonlight streamed in through windows allowing her to see clearly.
She walked along the stalls, checking on her choice of mount. The right one could ensure her escape, the wrong one could throw her before she ever got off this estate. But each horse she reached out to shied away, snorting and stamping, their eyes opened wide, mirroring her growing fear.
She was starting to get worried. It was taking too long to find a suitable choice. Any moment now, she could be discovered. Finally, she reached for a mare and the horse came closer. “Oh, you pretty thing. Will you bear me safely home?”
The bay mare nuzzled her palm.
Thrilled, Faith opened the stall door and led her out. The horse willingly followed her. “Wait here.”
She ran to check on the door and found all was calm outside. She heard dogs barking but they were a distance away. No one had discovered yet that she had escaped. Good. She opened the door wider so she could easily ride out. She turned back to find the bay had followed her. She led the mare back. “We will need a bridle for you, at the very least.”
Following the strong smell of sweaty saddle blankets and pads, she found the tack room. She quickly chose everything she would need and took it out to the main stable. She worked the bridle’s bit into the bay’s mouth and gently slipped the crown piece over the mare’s sensitive ears. She swung the pad onto the bay’s back and heard a sound outside.
Her pulse jumped. Leaving the mare, she raced to the open stable doors. A quick check showed two men coming from the house, carrying lanterns. Fear hammered in her chest as she backed away from the door. She turned and stumbled against something. Thinking the mare had followed her again, she put her arms up to lead it back but touched a man’s waistcoat.
“Well, well,” Granger said, clamping hold of her wrists. “You are a clever one. How did you get out of that room?”
Faith’s heart chilled with fear.
The barn door creaked and light spilled inside. Faith blinked, squinting at two men in the doorway.
“You see nothing,” Granger said to the servants. “Continue with your search of the premises. Make sure no one helped her escape. And leave one of those lanterns. Now get out.”
“Help me!” she pleaded over her shoulder.
There was pity in one man’s eyes but the other leered as he laid his lantern on the floor. Then, dragging his companion away, he shut the door, leaving Faith alone with Granger.
She struggled, but he held her effortlessly, his hands locked on her wrists like manacles. He pulled her to him and his face descended. She turned away and his lips landed on her right cheek. Repulsed, she whipped her leg back and kicked his shin. Granger swore and her booted foot throbbed in reaction.
He released her wrists, took hold of her upper arms and shook her viciously until her mind spun in terror.
The mare shied beside them, snorting her displeasure.
Granger ignored the horse and threw Faith to the straw-laden floor and fell over her, crushing her with his weight and using his hands to hold hers above her head.
She viciously bit his neck. He cried out and lifted himself up high enough to slap her hard. Her cheek stung and her ears rang from the harsh blow.
“Lie still, and I will not have to do that again.” He straddled her, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. “If you had stayed in the room, Faith, there would be no need for this roughness.”
“Let me go!”
“I need to ensure your compliance, Faith. You see that? Your action tonight has decided your fate. You have no one to blame but yourself.” He shifted to hold both of her hands with one fist while his right hand pulled up her dress.
“No,” Faith cried and kicked out. “Please, let me go. I will not tell anyone what you have done. I promise.”
“It is too late.” He had her gown up to her thighs. “Our destiny became entwined the moment I laid eyes on you, Faith. We were meant for each other. If only you had let me woo you. But I do not blame you for wanting more than a plain gentleman. You are a duke’s daughter. You expect your son to become a titled gentleman. I appreciate that. What you fail to comprehend is that we can both have what we want.”
Granger’s appeasing speech horrified her. How could she convince this madman to let her go? He had lost his reason.
“But I cannot have you running away again,” he said. “I have no alternative but to force your hand. After tonight, no other gentleman will want you, Faith, be certain of that. But I still will, so there is no need to be afraid.”
Terror scorched her body. She was doomed. “Somebody, help me,” she cried, despairing when her voice came out in a croak.
The mare snorted. Horse’s hoofs pounded the ground beside her. Granger howled and rolled off her.
Had the mare stomped on him? Good!
Faith scrambled backward and getting to her feet, she raced into the darkest recesses of the stables. She felt the handle of a stall door and opening it, crawled inside.
The horse within the stall reared. Faith bit her lip to keep from screaming and giving away her hiding place. She cowered in a corner of the stall as hoofs pounded the
ground. She raised her arms to protect her head, trying to make herself as small as possible.
The stallion glared at her in fury, circling around his tiny enclosure and acting as wild as a beast from hell. It stomped and kicked the stable walls. Nearby, horses neighed in fear.
Any moment, those pounding hoofs would strike her. Was being stomped to death preferable to Granger pawing her again?
“Faith!” Granger said.
Her breath lodged in her throat at the sound of that hateful voice.
“You cannot hide from me. I am sorry I frightened you. Come out, and I promise to be gentle. Come out or—”
She heard metal hit bone with a clang. Then there was utter silence. Even the horses grew quiet. Into that deadness, a man spoke in a shocked voice that sounded remarkably like Morton’s. “You killed him.”
Faith stayed in place, shaking uncontrollably.
“Not yet,” another man said.
Daniel? Or was it Granger, imitating his voice, tormenting her, luring her out of hiding. Her ears still rang with pain from his earlier blow and her head throbbed. It was hard to think, to discern what was happening.
“Faith? Where are you?”
It was Daniel! What was he doing here? Was this real?
A lantern light was held high and footsteps approached.
“Faith!” Daniel opened the stall door and the stallion reared again, neighing in fear.
He handed his lantern to Morton and spoke softly to the alarmed animal. The horse shied away, kicking the boards. Daniel continued to speak in a soothing tone. The stallion shied away again, studying the new intruder with suspicion. But he was also listening to Daniel’s calming tone. Within moments, the frightened horse dropped his head and butted Daniel.
Faith, too, took note of that tender voice. As the once-rearing wild-eyed beast trustingly placed his nose into Daniel’s palm, bit by bit, her fear receded. She managed to stand on shaky legs. She was inexorably drawn to this gentle man and her love and trust for him quenched her terror.
“Daniel.” She skirted along the stall and into his arms.
A Scorching Dilemma Page 16
