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The Duke's Bride (The Radcliffe Family Book 1)

Page 3

by Lindsay Downs


  With Emma and his mother settled, he looked to the duchess. “Earlier you mentioned something which had you and Emma concerned. Is it the late duke’s passing?”

  “Yes. He’d gone to London, since Parliament was seated, but returned a week later complaining of a severe headache. He had spoken with a doctor who said the duke’s stress could be blamed for the sickness.”

  “Do you know if the doctor examined father?”

  “Philip never said. Two days after he arrived home, your father took to his bed. I then wrote Emma, and you know the rest.”

  “If I may, Laura?” Emma requested.

  “Yes, please.”

  “As you know from our earlier conversation, my father died from a stroke. The duke was exhibiting some of the same signs. Slurring of speech, drooling from one corner of his mouth, along with difficulty eating and swallowing.”

  From his battlefield experience, Simon knew these signs could be from other things too. Had he fallen? Had it been a stroke? Or was it something more sinister?

  The problem, he foresaw, was obtaining the proof his father had received an injury. To get it, the body needed to be disinterred, without the ladies learning of what he’d done. Then, have a trusted doctor examine his late father’s skull.

  To go to the drastic step of interrupting his father’s peace, he’d have to have more reasons besides suspicion. “Tell me, ladies, did you see anything else that had you concerned?”

  “Simon, I should point out that as the days wore on your father would have periods of violence, especially when being bathed or fed. Once, he came downstairs in the middle of the night, and I found him pounding on a wall. I attempted to calm him, but he became enraged. Several times I found it necessary to have footmen restrain him. They did it carefully so not to add further injuries to him. During one of his most ferocious episodes I was called into his suite where he was huddled in the corner, weeping like a child. When he heard my voice he allowed me to come closer so that I could offer him comfort.” She reached for a lace handkerchief and patted her eyes.

  “Laura and I ended up becoming his caretakers but would have a maid and footman in the room in case of a problem. One day shortly before his passing, I was washing his hair when I felt an indentation on the back of his head. That had me puzzled, and what I can’t forget, why I hadn’t noticed it before,” Emma said.

  Simon thought over their words. “If he wasn’t taking in food, he would have lost weight and the scalp would naturally tighten to a small degree. I’ve seen it with soldiers who had been prisoners. Don’t let it upset you,” Simon told her in encouragement, yet he too was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

  “Mother, as it’s been years since I’ve resided under your roof, can you tell me if father became a heavy drinker? I know he enjoyed a whiskey now and again.”

  “No, he wasn’t. One before dinner with a brandy afterwards. Even over a meal he would limit himself to a single glass of wine. I thought this too, son, that he could have drank too much and stumbled, hitting his head,” Laura said.

  “From what you ladies are telling me, with the indentation on the skull and the mood changes, a head injury could have been very possible. As you both know, after returning from the continent, I spent a few days at the London palace, and I asked the staff what they saw. None of the staff made mention of him being injured. With what I’ve learned it gets me thinking he must have been attacked by someone. Then when he started feeling the effects returned here. Mother, do you think it’s possible father wasn’t telling you everything?”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Could he have been attacked, hit on the head, and was capable of going about his business for a short period of time?”

  “Why would he not tell me of such a horrible thing?”

  Simon shrugged. “Because he didn’t want to worry you. Remember how he used to reassure you that he was safe while away on business, and you’d fret until he came back?”,” Simon declared.

  He knew now more than ever his father’s death wasn’t without suspicion. Months had passed, and finding what truly happened could be next to impossible, but he had to try. If someone harmed his father, the man deserved to be found and punished.

  Upon receiving their head bobs of agreement, Simon knew he would have to return to London in an attempt to hunt down the person or persons responsible for his father’s death. With so many months having passed since the attack those who did it could be dead by another’s hand or on learning what they’d done fled the city, never to be found.

  Frustrated, he wanted to throw the glass holding his brandy, but a show of anger wouldn’t help him or the ladies. Simon watched as Emma whispered something to his mother. He watched as his mother’s back stiffened then relax and she weakly smiled. Standing he went to the bell cord.

  Simon saw his mother peer his way.

  “Well, are you going to keep me pondering what you were talking about so intently?”

  “Simon, I’m sure you’ll be shocked at what we tell you. Above all we need answers, but there will be conditions. I have a feeling you’ve already thought about it, also. We would like my husband’s body exhumed and have a professional examine his head to confirm what we all suspect. Emma and I only want to know if there is a wound which could have caused his death,” his mother told him.

  “Mother, I know what I’m about to say will be painful, but why wasn’t an autopsy done then?”

  “As we said earlier, he gave every appearance of having had a stroke. Don’t forget he complained only of a severe headache and nothing more,” Laura explained.

  “Then, with your permission, I’ll take care of everything needed.” He accepted his mother’s head bob as her consent.

  Simon knew his father was buried in the family mausoleum on the estate. That would make it easy to disentomb the body.

  “With your permission, Mother, I know the perfect person to inspect father. I’ll post a note explaining what we suspect and would he come to examine the late duke.”

  “Most certainly you may,” Laura replied.

  With that resolved, at least for now, suddenly another question leapt into his mind. As far back as he knew his father never kept a courtesan secreted away in a plush apartment in London like many men did. He knew from ribald stories the late duke had been a rakehell cutting a swath, sometimes literally since he was a duellist preferring the saber, through the ton. Was it possible one of the young ladies he trifled with might have had a son who now was seeking vengeance?

  Without wanting to inquire from his mother, thus saving her from the embarrassment, could the answer be in the stacks of boxes containing letters here, in his office? Then again, would his father risk being found out by the duchess if she learned of them? One thing Simon did know was that this would be a long complicated hunt to find the answer, if it existed.

  “Simon, you appear to be lost in deep thought? Would you care to share with us what’s on your mind?” Emma’s sweet voice brought his attention to her.

  “At the present, no, I’d rather not until I collect more information. Hopefully, that will be in the next few days. In the meantime, as for me it’s been a very long day so I need to retire as tomorrow will also be busy,” he declared.

  “And I believe, dear Emma, we should also. Don’t forget you’ve an appointment with my dressmaker and you, Son, with the tailor,” Laura reminded them.

  After escorting the ladies to the second floor he watched as they took the corridor into the south wing. He found this interesting considering there were many rooms in the ducal wing they could have used. With a shrug of his shoulders, he headed for his suite to be met at the door by Edmond.

  “Your Grace, may I get you something to drink or eat?”

  “No. I also have a letter to write so make sure it’s sent off by rider in the morning.”

  “I’ll take it to Richmond personally.”

  Alone, Simon took a seat at his old desk and penned the letter to
the doctor, including information about why he was needed. He finished it as his valet returned from the stable and speaking with Richmond.

  “I’m going to read for a few minutes. I won’t need you until I ring for you in the morning,” he directed Edmond then handed over the missive.

  He barely got half way through two pages of the book when he felt his eyelids start to close. Standing, he stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed.

  ****

  Laura waited until they were far enough away from Simon then glanced over to Emma who, she saw, was wearing a worried look.

  “Come into my suite, then you can tell me what’s troubling you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Met at the door by the duchess’ lady’s maid, Laura instructed Agnes not to return until rung for.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  When the maid left, Laura waved Emma to take a seat across from her in front of the fireplace. She waited to see if Emma would open the conversation, which to Laura’s happiness she did.

  “As you are aware, due to my father taking to his sick bed, then with his passing, I never had a season. Therefore, dealing with gentlemen is, to a degree, strange for me. Granted, over the past few years several did call on me. However, we never were comfortable in each other’s company. With Simon it’s totally different. Even before you told me he was the duke, I had a strange feeling in my heart for him.”

  “Even when he presented himself to you looking like a groom?”

  “Strangely enough, yes. However, I did suspect he might be the duke from the scar on his face. You mentioned it to me as having come from a fishing accident when the hook became caught in his cheek just below the right eye. But I still don’t understand why he didn’t say something at the time.”

  “Is that why you went after him with the saber?”

  “Yes, even when I found him in his office he played the fool, not saying anything. If you hadn’t interceded when you did I have no idea what would have happened.”

  “Then, I’m glad I did. But answer me this, when you stumbled, why did you refuse his assistance?” Laura said.

  “It started when he cupped my elbow to help me straighten from the curtsey. His touch, even through the sleeve of the dress, addled my brain. It amazed me I could even talk clearly. Then, it only got worse when he took my hand. At least, this time I don’t think my cheeks pinked.”

  “I’m sorry to say, but they did, ever so faintly though. I’m sure Simon also saw,” Laura uttered.

  “Now do you understand why I refused to be carried by him. If those were my reactions to simple touches, I don’t even wish to think what might have happened in his arms,” Emma declared.

  “Yes, I do. All I can say is, try to keep your wits about you when in his company.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re not going to believe me. If I’m not mistaken, you are already taken by him, and he you. See how events over the next few days go, then ask me again. Now, what else do you have on your mind?”

  “As we were talking, both before and after dinner, I was remembering something my mother had told me a few years ago. I don’t wish to upset you, but it concerned the late duke. As you knew he was a rakehell of the first order and several times set his sights on her.”

  “My dear, I’m well aware of his behaviour and attempts to have a tryst with the dear lady. I feel that’s one of the reasons why Sarah and I got along so well. We protected each other from him. Even though he wasn’t actively seeking my hand, Philip knew I loved roses. One evening as my parents and I were leaving our townhouse he appeared with a very large bundle of them in his arms. I knew then he truly loved me.

  “At the ball we danced and he totally behaved himself, always returning me to my mother afterwards. Then, the next day he called on my father, who at first was hesitant in granting him permission to make his addresses to me. Finally, father acquiesced, and three months later we married. From then to when he took sick he never looked at another lady. Of course, getting him to admit that fact was next to impossible, but he did as every year on our anniversary I received an armload of roses.”

  “Laura, is it possible, before he met you, Philip might have compromised a young lady, and the family was so ashamed they sent her to the country, maybe never to be seen again?”

  “If he did, knowing Philip was an honorable gentleman, he would have offered for her. But, as you say, if he never knew he couldn’t have. To find that out there might be one place within these walls we could learn the answer, or at least part of it. The ducal office. As I know he saved every letter he received even before we married. Might I inquire why?” Laura asked.

  “I believe what we’re discussing now was the same thing Simon was thinking about and didn’t wish to broach the subject for fear of offending you.”

  “Knowing him, you could be right so we, or rather I, should bring up the subject. And as far as topics for discussion go, I know from your mother you’re an excellent rider so why did you tell Simon you couldn’t?” Laura teased.

  “It was a spur of the moment decision, but look at his action and words. He didn’t ask or suggest but ordered me to get not one but two habits. Granted, he’s used to ordering men about from when he was a colonel in the Guards, but now he’s not, and I’m not a soldier. If anything, he might have asked if I desired to learn to ride,” Emma explained.

  “Yes, I understand what you mean. I believe he acquired that attitude from his father. It will be interesting to see the lessons so don’t be surprised if I appear at least for the first few.”

  “I will welcome you, but I can’t say Simon might. If I’m not mistaken, there might be a great deal of yelling and hair pulling on his part. Now, as tomorrow will be long, and I look forward to showing and explaining our suggestions on improving the mill, I need to retire,” Emma stated.

  Laura waited until she swept from the room then rang for Agnes. If there were any staff who might have known her late husband it would be her maid as she’d been with the ducal household for years. It had only been two years ago, when her original lady’s maid had gotten too old, did she take Agnes on and hadn’t regretted the decision.

  When she heard Agnes knock on the door Laura told her to enter.

  “How may I be of assistance, Your Grace?”

  “In a few minutes I’ll need help in getting out of my gown, but first, I have several questions. I know you’ll give me fair and honest answers to them.”

  “Of course.”

  “How long have you been in service to the late duke? I only ask because there might be a chance he was murdered.”

  Laura watched as Agnes paled, then used her fingers to count the years and finally answered.

  “I started out in the kitchen as a scullery maid when I was about five and ten. Several years later the housekeeper, at the time Mrs. Appleton, God rest her soul, had me start training as a downstairs maid. I was responsible for several of the smaller rooms in keeping them dusted and the furniture polished.”

  “How long did you remain in that position, and was it here or London?”

  “Your Grace, until you took me as your lady’s maid I’d never left the estate. Several years ago was the first time I ever went to London. To be honest, I was scared to even step outside it was so smelly and noisy.”

  As when Laura was painting a picture, everything was slowly coming together. If Agnes had never left here, then she wouldn’t know what Philip might have done in the city. The next question she had, was who might have served in both households. As she forced back a yawn she knew it was time to sleep and start the hunt afresh on the morrow.

  “Help me out of my gown and dressed for bed as I’ve several things I need to take care of in the morning. Also Lady Emma and His Grace will be out for most of the afternoon so I’ll take that time to get some letters written. Make sure Winston has a writing desk placed in the gazebo.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I’ll tell him.”

  Thirty minutes later,
having taken care of her personal needs and dressed in a nightrail, Laura climbed into bed. As she lay abed, the same puzzling questions whirled around in her mind. Who would know Philip before they married? Was it possible he had gotten a young lady with child? Was the answer in the office? There she would assist Simon, most likely under protest from him, in searching through the letters looking for an answer to see if her late husband had compromised a lady forcing her into hiding.

  Chapter Four

  Somewhere in the huge palace a clock chimed, bringing Simon awake. As a former soldier, rising early came naturally as he mentally counted the seven clangs of the clapper. Tossing off the linens, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed then scrubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. The stubble of beard would have to go since he had always preferred his chin clean.

  Sliding off the bed, the first one he’d slept in for many months, he walked over to his private room. Once finished with his morning routine and with a towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped back into the main room to be met by Edmond.

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t ring for you,” he demanded.

  “Your Grace, knowing you were in the military, sleeping late would come hard to you. All I did was wait outside the door until I heard you stir then entered. What do you wish to wear today?”

  “First of all you will not, as you said, wait outside my door. When I have a need of your service, I will ring for you. Next, I will choose what I wish to wear, and it might even be the same as yesterday. London fashion is of little importance to me while comfort is. But, since you’re here, a clean shirt and the same buckskin breeches and riding boots from yesterday.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  The dejected look on the poor man’s face made Simon feel a little guilty, even though it was necessary because he had his own way of doing things.

  “I’ll be in my office all morning then after luncheon with Lady Emma we will be inspecting the suggested changes to the mill. Her Grace has all but ordered me to visit the tailor to obtain proper attire for dinner. I know he won’t have anything ready. If you were to visit his store under my direction I might have a jacket to wear tonight.”

 

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