“Go and fetch Mr. Haversham,” Duncan instructed.
“Who is Mr. Haversham?” Arthur asked. He could not remember any of his friend’s household servants bearing the name.
“You shall see soon enough,” Duncan replied. Arthur got the feeling his friend enjoyed withholding the information from him.
Several moments passed as they waited for Duncan’s promised protector. Arthur could hear a clicking sound coming closer and closer. He could not for the life of him determine what it was. A startled sound erupted from Miss Bolton’s lips causing him to turn and look towards the hallway. He nearly came up out of his bed at the sight that greeted him.
“Arthur, Miss Bolton, may I have the honor of introducing you to Mr. Haversham,” Duncan chuckled.
In the doorway stood the largest black dog Arthur had ever seen. “It’s a bloody hellhound!”
“A wolfhound actually. He is a splendid acquisition from my recent trip visiting my mother’s family in Ireland. His ancestors were bred there from war hounds to hunt wolves. A more fierce protector of children you will never meet. My grandmother swears by him. She trained him herself as a gift. I believe it was her way of suggesting that it was time I did my duty and provide her with more grandchildren.”
“And you are sure he is safe?” Miss Bolton asked tentatively.
“He is completely safe for you and the children, but were anyone to try and harm you, they would not walk away unscathed,” Duncan promised. “I give you my word as a nobleman and as someone who cares for you and the children deeply.”
Miss Bolton blushed. Arthur knew he shouldn’t care what transpired between them, but he did in spite of himself. He growled deep in his throat when he saw the way Duncan was looking at her. The dog heard it and growled back. Arthur jerked his head back around to look at the dog and considered Duncan’s offer. Several moments passed as Duncan waited for his answer. He decided to agree. “He will do.”
Duncan led the dog over to meet Miss Bolton. Arthur watched as she reached out her hand and patted the enormous dark head. The dog gave her a friendly lick and placed his head in her lap. “Oh, how sweet he is,” she exclaimed smiling at her new canine companion. “You can sleep with me tonight,” she invited the dog in a sweet voice one hears mothers using with their young children.
“I never thought I would envy a dog,” Duncan mumbled under his breath.
Arthur fought the urge to growl at him again. “If we wish to get the children safely away before nightfall, then they should leave now.”
“Of course,” Miss Bolton agreed and left the room with Mr. Haversham in tow to gather the children’s things.
“One of the grooms has agreed to take them into the village and remain there for the night at the local inn, in case they need to send word back to us for any reason. I have arranged for them to be transported in an unmarked carriage so no one will know from whence they came,” Duncan informed him. “Do not worry, my friend, Mr. Haversham will keep them safe.”
“If only there were two of him,” Arthur jested.
“Oh, but there is. He has a twin brother back in Ireland that looks exactly like him. My grandmother kept him for herself,” Duncan replied with a grin.
* * *
Nervous fear mingled with the excitement of adventure were tangible in the air as Eliza left Durton Manor with the children and a giant Irish dog named Mr. Haversham. She prayed that both the two Dukes would be safe as they attempted to lure the assassin into their trap. She hated the idea of anything happening to either one of them.
She had grown quite fond of both noblemen in the short time that they had been acquainted, but she supposed that it was a natural response to all they had been through together over the past couple of days.
Has it been but a few days? It feels much longer.
As they traversed the distance from the manor house to the village, Eliza hoped that her parents would be amenable to her plan and assist her in protecting the children. There had been no time to send a missive ahead to herald their arrival. The wolfhound at her feet lay his head in her lap, and they swayed gently together as the carriage bumped along the road.
There was something quite comforting about the feel of canine affection. Eliza ruffled the fur behind his ears and murmured sweet nothings about how handsome and brave he was. Charlotte giggled from beside her and reached out to join in the fun. Gabriel curled up next to her on the seat and lay his head on her arm. Were they not running to hide away from an assassin, the moment would have been perfect.
“I am glad you came to stay with us,” Gabriel informed her.
“As am I,” she replied, brushing the hair back from his face. She wrapped her arm around his torso and snuggled him up against her side.
“Will you stay with us always?” Gabriel asked. “The other governesses didn’t stay, but we didn’t like them as much as we like you.”
“I am sure their leaving had nothing to do with either of you. I would be happy to stay,” Eliza reassured him.
“Even if Mother makes you leave?” Charlotte asked, her face wore entirely too much worry for one so young.
“Your brother, as the Duke of Rosenhill, is the one who decides whether I stay or leave. In the end, it will be his choice,” Eliza explained.
“Then I will tell him you must stay forever,” Gabriel concluded.
Eliza smiled and gave him a gentle squeeze. “That is most kind of you.”
“Why are we going to stay with your family? We have never stayed the night among common people before,” Charlotte asked. Eliza could tell she was uncertain about the night ahead. “Mother would disapprove.”
“Your brother thought it would be fun for you to meet my siblings while he recuperates. Would you like that?” Eliza inquired. Both children nodded their heads. “Good. I am sure we will have a lovely visit.”
When the carriage pulled up in front of the Cole family home, Eliza stepped out and was greeted by a swarm of siblings, each vying for a hug. Eliza laughed with joy to be with them once more. Turning she assisted Gabriel and Charlotte from the carriage followed by Mr. Haversham.
“Lady Charlotte, Lord Gabriel, may I present my family: my father, Mr. John Cole, my mother, Mrs. Helen Cole, my brothers, Henry and Oliver, and my sisters, Mary, Anne, and Jane. Family, this is Lord Gabriel Huntley and Lady Charlotte Huntley of Rosenhill, brother and sister to His Grace, Arthur Huntley, the Duke of Rosenhill.” Eliza took a breath and allowed them to greet one another. “And this is Mr. Haversham, canine extraordinaire,” she introduced the dog with a flourish.
Oliver squealed in delight and threw his arms around the dog burying his face in the thick black fur. “’Liza has a dog!”
“He is not mine, but we are borrowing him for our visit,” Eliza explained.
“Why don’t you children go and play in the garden while Eliza and I talk,” Mrs. Cole advised and the children scampered off to do as bid, dragging Mr. Haversham, Gabriel, and Charlotte with them. “It is good to see you, my dear, but the look in your eyes is telling me that something is amiss.”
“You are right as usual, Mother,” Eliza smiled and hugged Mrs. Cole.
“What is the matter, Daughter?” Mr. Cole asked.
“The Duke’s life is in jeopardy, and he has asked if we will safeguard the children. It will only be for one night.” Eliza pleaded with her eyes for them to understand.
“Of course, dear. Anything we can do to help keep you and those innocent children safe,” Mrs. Cole answered.
“We were right to be concerned then?” Mr. Cole asked.
“Yes, Father, quite right. There have been two attempts on the Duke’s life in less than a week’s time,” Eliza confided in them. “The first was a stabbing here in the village. The second, someone tampered with the carriage, and he was very nearly killed in a horrific accident that claimed the life of the driver.”
“Good heaven!” Mrs. Cole exclaimed, taking Eliza’s hand in hers. “Were you and the children with him when
it happened?”
“Thankfully no, but I am the one who found him,” Eliza admitted. “He is being treated by a Scotsman, Dr. Burns.”
“I met Dr. Burns today at the shop. A nice fellow,” Mr. Cole admitted. “He is here visiting a friend. How did he end up treating the Duke?”
“I am not certain. Something about the local doctor being away on a call,” Eliza explained as her father nodded his head in understanding.
“Does the Duke have any notion of who might wish him ill?” Mr. Cole asked.
“Honestly, Father, the list is immense. You were so very right about his father’s reputation. The Duke has been attempting to make amends, but the late Duke’s sins were many,” Eliza admitted sadly.
“I have heard the rumors. We are fortunate to have remained mostly untouched by the man. I remember your father saying something to me many years ago, just before his death, about the cruelty of the late Duke. He had worked as a tutor at Rosenhill at the time. He seemed genuinely frightened of the nobleman,” Mr. Cole replied, shaking his head in sorrow at the memory.
“Papa, frightened?” Eliza questioned. “Papa was never frightened of anyone.”
“I thought it strange as well. I remember when your father and mother first moved into the house next to ours. Your father had just resigned from his job as a Bow Street Runner in London. He was one of the bravest, most intelligent men I have ever known,” Mr. Cole replied.
“Papa was a Bow Street Runner in London?” Eliza was shocked. “I just assumed he had always been a tutor.”
Mr. Cole smiled. “Nay. He resigned from being a Runner when he found out your dear sweet mother was with child. She preferred that he take on a less dangerous occupation.”
“I had no notion Papa had such a colorful past,” Eliza marveled. “Somehow it makes me love him all the more.”
“He was the truest friend any man could ask for. I miss him every day,” Mr. Cole stated. His sad facial expression reflected his words.
“Did he ever say what frightened him about the late Duke?” Eliza asked hoping for further insight into hers and Arthur’s fathers’ shared history.
Mr. Cole shook his head. “Nay. As close as he and I were, he was still very much a private man. He seldom shared his thoughts about other people. He preferred to observe and listen unless he was teaching a lesson.”
“He was a quiet man, but he would always read aloud to me every day no matter how tired he was,” Eliza remembered. “I will never understand why anyone wished to end his and my mother’s lives.”
“I believe it was someone from your father’s past as a Runner, but I doubt we will ever know for sure,” Mr. Cole shared his theory. “As is evidenced by the late Duke’s demise a man’s past often catches up with him.”
“Well I would very much like to avoid such a fate for the current Duke of Rosenhill and his siblings,” Eliza remarked. “There has been entirely too much death already as it is.”
“I very much dislike seeing you embroiled in such a dangerous situation, Eliza,” Mrs. Cole voiced her concern. “Were it not for those sweet innocent children I would demand you resign your position as governess and return home immediately.”
“I am committed, Mother. There is no turning back now,” Eliza laid a soothing hand on Mrs. Cole’s arm. “Too much has transpired, and I have given the children my word that I will stay with them. None of their other governesses ever lasted more than two years.”
“There is definitely something wrong going on in that manor house, but Mrs. Philips never divulges a single morsel of information about the Duke and his family when she visits,” Mrs. Cole remarked.
“Mrs. Philips is a loyal family servant to the current Duke. I have only ever heard her reference the late Duke once, and it was to say he was a cruel man. I do not believe she meant for me to hear even that.” Eliza thought of Rosenhill’s head housekeeper and wished for a moment she were present to give advice on how to best handle the situation they found themselves in.
“How likely are we to have trouble while the children are here?” Mr. Cole asked.
“The assassin appears to only be after the Duke, but we felt it best to remove the children to safety. I would not have brought them here if I thought I was placing our family in any danger, Father.” Eliza hoped that she was correct and that the twins were in no real danger. “If there is any trouble at all we are to send a message back to Durton Manor for assistance.”
“You were wise to remove them from the situation. They will be safe here. I will take extra precautions to secure the house at night,” Mr. Cole promised. “It is good to have you home, Daughter. We have missed you.”
“I have missed you as well.” Eliza hugged both of her adoptive parents. “Shall we go and join the children in the garden?”
“Let’s,” Mrs. Cole answered smiling, and they walked arm in arm around the side of the house together.
Noting that her father had not followed, Eliza looked over her shoulder to see what had kept him and saw Mr. Cole pull a pistol from beneath his jacket and check the primer.
Chapter 13
Arthur and Duncan waited together in the dark of Arthur’s room at Durton Manor to see if their trap to catch the assassin would produce results. They had sent some of Duncan’s most trusted servants to the local tavern with orders to gossip about the Duke of Rosenhill surviving a terrible carriage accident and his recuperation at Durton Manor. Their hope was that if it was made known in the village that Arthur still lived, the assassin would be desperate enough to try again.
They assumed by the crow with the white arrow that had been left at Durton that the assassin already knew Arthur lived, but they did not wish to take any chances. They desired above all else to bring the culprit to justice and end the threat. When the servants had returned from doing as bid, they had each hidden themselves away in various parts of the house so that there would be as little chance as possible that the culprit would go undetected.
Each man was armed with a pistol. Arthur listened carefully for any sign of an intruder, but could only hear his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears. He hoped that Miss Bolton and the children would be safe at her parents’ home in the village.
It was the right decision to make sending them away, but part of me wishes they were here so that I could watch over them with my own eyes. I must make a point to meet Mr. and Mrs. Cole when I have recovered and thank them for their service to my family in this time of crisis.
Miss Bolton had handled herself exceptionally and had won Arthur’s admiration, gratitude, and affection. She is a strong woman of unparalleled bravery, he thought to himself, not for the first time since meeting her. Duncan’s words about her echoed through Arthur’s mind, and he wished circumstances were different.
Were I but a tradesman I would gladly seek her hand, but alas I am not, and I have my family’s honor to repair.
The image of Duncan taking her to wife flitted through his mind causing Arthur to stir restlessly in agitation. “Are you well, Arthur?” Duncan whispered from his chair next to the bed, hearing him move about. “Do you need to get up?”
“Nay. I am well,” Arthur answered in embarrassment for his internal reverie. Miss Bolton could not ask for a better suitor than Duncan. He was ashamed of himself for thinking such angry, jealous thoughts about his friend. “Just feeling a bit restless.”
“As am I,” Duncan admitted. “I was never very good at hide-and-go-seek as a child. I did not like waiting to be found. I preferred to be the seeker.”
“I became quite skilled at hiding due in great part to my father,” Arthur shared. “One can get rather inventive with finding hiding places when one wishes to avoid a beating.”
“I am sorry, Arthur. There were many times when Father and I wished to come over and thrash your father for the way he treated you,” Duncan sympathized.
“I am glad you did not. Being allowed to come to Durton was my safe haven away from Rosenhill. Had your father thrashed mine I would have b
een denied that ability.” Arthur knew that guilt about being helpless to aid him had haunted Duncan for years. “You have nothing to feel sorry for, my friend.”
A creak of the floorboards outside the bedroom door caused all conversation between them to cease. Another eerie creak and both men had their pistols cocked and ready. The door squeaked open on its hinges revealing a small rectangle of light in the darkness. A dark figure stood backlit in the doorway.
The light did not reach either of the Dukes’ positions in the room allowing them to remain covert. Arthur lay quietly as if he were sleeping in the bed. Duncan sat silently in a chair in the corner ready to pounce. The figure crept forward towards the bed. The flash of a blade caught in the light from the hallway and Arthur knew their plan had paid off.
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