It had taken time to prepare for their day of charity as large amounts of food had needed to be procured and prepared, as well as invitations sent out to the surrounding villages. During that time, Arthur had recovered nicely without further incident. He was still sore and had to move about carefully so as not to exacerbate his injuries, but he was able to walk and stand for periods of time.
They had expected another attempt on Arthur’s life after receiving the second crow, but it did not come. Eliza was fairly certain that their success was due to Duncan’s safety precautions and guards more than anything else. She knew that Arthur hoped it was his efforts to make amends that had stopped the assaults; however, she feared that it was not so. The time to return to Rosenhill was swiftly upon them, and none of them wished to do so.
Durton Manor had allowed them all a certain amount of freedom to be themselves in spite of the dangers that lurked unseen. Under the oppressive cloud that hung over Rosenhill with the Dowager Duchess in residence, such freedom would no longer be permissible. Together at Durton, they had let go of the preconceived societal notions of how they should have treated one another and had just been friends, true friends.
They had all stayed away from windows and limited their time outside for several days after the shooting, but it had been decided that such precautions were no way to live a happy, healthy life, and normal activity had been resumed not long after. Duncan’s guards had kept any and all possible threats at bay. When Eliza had gone to visit her parents, the children had gone with her to play with her siblings. In spite of the danger, Eliza was happier than she had been in a long time.
Arthur and Duncan treated her as a respected equal, and Eliza had reveled in the bond of friendship that had formed. Caring for one another during difficult times, working together to solve their shared mystery, and spending time discussing life and literature had provided a much-needed balm for their souls. Preparations for their day of charity and Arthur’s recuperation had been the finishing catalyst that had knitted them into a family.
They were a ragtag group of the orphaned and neglected. Their shared pain, along with their undying faith in humanity in spite of everything that had happened to each of them, had created a bond of understanding between them that was unique and strong. Eliza watched Arthur, Duncan, and the children interact with their guests each with their own kind compassionate touch. As she stood there, she realized that aside from her fear for Arthur’s life, she was quite content.
I have everything I have ever wanted, with the exception of my parents being alive once more. I have a job I enjoy allowing me to be independent with true friends and family that love me as much as I love them. How can one feel so blessed under the pain and threat as we have experienced?
Arthur turned and caught her looking at him once more. He arose from his seat where he had just finished speaking with one of the villagers and walked over to her side. “Are you well?” he asked concerned.
“Yes, I was just thinking about how happy I am. I acknowledge the oddity of such a statement given the danger we are in, but it is true. I am happy here with all of you,” Eliza admitted.
Arthur smiled. “I understand the feeling. I, too, have been happy these last few weeks together here at Durton. I will be loath to leave when the time comes and it is fast approaching.”
“Are you ready?” she asked not at all certain he had healed enough for them to be making the move.
“Ready or not, I must return. It is my duty,” Arthur reminded her.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Eliza answered begrudgingly.
Arthur smiled. “Were it not we might never leave Durton.”
“I could well live with such a thing,” Eliza admitted. “The children have blossomed here. The idea of them returning to their shells concerns me.”
“As it does me,” Arthur nodded his head in commiseration. “Things must change at Rosenhill. I do not know what to do about Mother, but the children need room to breathe and grow without her disapproving disdain overshadowing their lives. When we have resolved the current threat, we will find a way to make Rosenhill a happier home for us all.”
“I would like that very much,” Eliza replied, smiling up into his face. The brilliant blue of his eyes pulled her in. Like a fish on a hook, she could not resist their hypnotic hold.
Arthur reached up and brushed an errant curl from her face causing tingling sensations of pleasure to travel throughout her body. “You will be a very important part of making it happen.”
Eliza blushed. “I am glad.”
“Very important,” he murmured leaning closer.
“Arthur,” Duncan’s voice called from across the room. Arthur turned and looked at his friend. Duncan gave Arthur the signal that there was another person he should speak with, and Arthur nodded his head in acknowledgement. He turned back to Eliza took her hand in his squeezing it affectionately then released it and went to do as bidden.
Eliza watched his strong muscular back as he walked away, noticing the way his body rippled underneath his jacket. Duncan was the same way. They were more alike in personality and build than any two people she had ever met. They could not have been more alike had they been true brothers, except perhaps in coloring and facial features.
Eliza returned to her duties, and they spent the rest of the day speaking with and assisting everyone who came to receive gifts of food and coin. When it was all over, they met together in the library. “I do not believe it to be any of them,” Arthur admitted running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I am glad that we did not encounter any danger today, but I must admit that I will feel much safer when we have apprehended the assailant.”
“As will we all,” Eliza agreed.
“The people we met today were just hungry, some of them were lonely and sought company, but that was it,” Duncan concurred. “It is impossible to truly know what is in a man’s heart, but I just do not see any of these people attempting murder.”
“I concur,” Arthur replied, “but we did not meet everyone from the list today. Some sent their wives or mothers. Others simply opted not to attend. We will need to make individual inquiries among those who did not come. I hoped to be done with this entire business, but life seldom seems to offer what is desired.”
“Even among the privileged, it would seem,” Eliza noted.
Duncan chuckled. “We are more fortunate than most, but it does not mean we are insusceptible to fear, anguish, and torment.”
“No, of course not,” Eliza agreed looking over at Arthur. He had most certainly suffered more than his share in life. “I am sorry that you must continue to go through this.”
“Such is my father’s legacy,” Arthur shrugged wincing only slightly at the pain. “I have recovered sufficiently enough that perhaps a carriage ride to the remaining names upon the list would be possible in the next day or two?”
“I could arrange it if you wished, but I believe it would be best if someone else paid them a call,” Duncan answered. “You are putting yourself in needless danger by exposing yourself as you have. Going out and about the county knocking on doors is not advisable for a man in your situation as you well know.”
“I have been bed bound for far too long. Dangerous or not, I am going to reclaim my life one way or another,” Arthur stated. Eliza could tell from the fire in his eyes that he meant every word, and no amount of arguing or cajoling would change his mind. “I am the Duke of Rosenhill and will comport myself as such. The days of hiding in a windowless dressing room while I lay flat upon my back are over. I am a nobleman, and a man faces his threats head on not cowering in a corner like a child.”
Duncan shook his head. “As much as I love seeing the old you emerge once more, I do not like it, Arthur.”
“I am aware, old friend, but you cannot protect us forever.” Arthur laid a reassuring hand on Duncan’s arm and met his eyes. “Let us finish this together.”
“That is all I ask,” Duncan answered. The two men grinned a
t one another and slapped each other on the back affectionately before releasing one another. Eliza smiled at the comradery between the two. Even when they disagreed, they found a way to meet each other in the middle.
“Eliza, you and the children will remain here under the protection of Durton Manor,” Arthur instructed. “When Duncan and I have addressed the remaining names within the ledger, then you, the children, and I will return to Rosenhill.”
Eliza’s heart sank at the idea of returning, but she did not let it show. Duncan, however, did not hide his disappointment. “You know you are welcome here, always,” he stated as much to Eliza as to Arthur. “You all are.”
“I thank you, my friend, for your hospitality, but the time has come,” Arthur graciously replied.
“As you will,” Duncan conceded, but his eyes said that they would be missed.
“You can come to Rosenhill anytime and stay as long as you wish,” Arthur reminded him.
“Of course. I will be sure to come frequently,” Duncan answered.
But it will not be the same, Eliza’s thoughts finished for him. He met her eyes as if they had read one another’s mind then looked back to Arthur.
“What time do you wish to depart tomorrow to finish the list?” Duncan inquired.
“At first light,” Arthur answered. “I wish to address the issue as swiftly and directly as possible.”
“Very well, but we are taking the closed carriage and an armed guard,” Duncan demanded.
“As you wish,” Arthur conceded.
“If you are shot while we are out doing this, I will never forgive you for it,” Duncan warned.
“I understand,” Arthur replied, then smiled.
“Nor will I,” Eliza added.
Arthur met her eyes for a moment. “All will be well. I will return,” he voiced the promise he had no way of keeping, and yet, his calm demeanor soothed her troubled heart.
“Never forget our lives count upon your survival,” she reminded. She knew it was a great responsibility to place on anyone’s shoulders, but she hoped that it would inspire him to caution.
“I will not leave you and the children to face Rosenhill alone. As much as it is in my power to do so, I swear to return.”
Chapter 20
Arthur awoke before dawn and readied himself for the business of the day. He was anxious to get started. Exiting his room, he went in search of Duncan. He had said his farewells to Eliza and the children the night before as he did not wish to awaken them so early. As he walked down the hall, he reveled in the feel of moving about of his own accord. He had lain in bed far too long for his liking and enjoyed the freedom immensely.
He was fortunate to have ever been able to walk again, and he thanked the heavens that Eliza had come along when she had. She was his savior, his light in the darkness. Arthur paused outside of the children’s nursery door and listened. Hearing nothing, he placed his hand on the door, then moved on. He hesitated at Eliza’s door, looked longingly at it for a moment, shook his head, then went below stairs to break the fast.
He found Duncan sitting at the dining room table. “I see we are of an accord.”
“Yes, I am ready,” Duncan confirmed. “The carriage is outside awaiting our departure.”
“Splendid. Shall we go?” Arthur asked.
“Sit down and eat. You must retain your strength. Healing is a tiresome process,” Duncan instructed.
Arthur sat down, and Mr. White brought him a heaping plate of food. “I simply wish to be about our business. The sooner we can ascertain the intentions of the remaining men within the ledger the better.”
“For a man who so recently escaped death, you seem terribly anxious to run headlong back into the fray,” Duncan noted.
“You lie helpless upon your back for weeks on end, then tell me that you would not be the same as I,” Arthur retorted.
“I would be the same,” Duncan admitted. “I am simply not in a rush to put you in harm’s way once more. I had the driver examine the carriage in its entirety, and it is safe, but I will not be able to protect you from a marksman out in the open.”
“I appreciate your efforts, my friend, but it is not your responsibility to protect me,” Arthur reminded him.
“No, but it is my honor,” Duncan remarked. “As I cannot talk you out of it, we will depart once we have finished breakfast.”
When the dukes finished eating, they left the manor house to climb into the waiting carriage. Duncan had ordered the curtains be drawn over the windows so as not to allow a clear view of the inside. The interior was dark in the low light of dawn, and Arthur leaned his head back against the carriage wall and closed his eyes. The image of Eliza’s face came to mind, and he smiled.
In the weeks of his recovery he had come to care for her deeply but had done nothing more than touch her hand or cheek on the rare occasion he had the opportunity. Once he had not needed her care, she had returned to spending the majority of her time with the twins, but he had visited with them as much as he could. He enjoyed watching her play with and teach the children. He had dreamt more than once since his accident of Eliza as the mother of his children running the halls at Rosenhill.
He could picture it now: her laughing brown eyes, flowing dark hair, her lavender dress floating on the breeze as she turned around and around in circles with a blond-haired boy and dark-haired girl running to and fro among the roses. His heart ached for such a life.
As the weeks had passed under Eliza’s care, he had surrendered his prejudices about family honor and social standing. He had come to terms with the idea that he would never be able to make true amends for his father’s actions and that it was not fair to himself or the children for him to allow their father’s ghost to determine the course of his life in such a fashion. The man was dead. The money was returned. It should be left at that.
If only it could be…
“Are you well, my friend?” Duncan asked from across the carriage.
Arthur opened his eyes to find him wearing a worried expression, leaning forward to better read his features. “I am well. I was simply taking the moment to repose.”
“You looked as if you were in pain,” Duncan informed him.
“I was thinking of Eliza,” Arthur admitted.
Duncan’s eyebrows rose in inquisition. “Oh?”
“You were right about her,” Arthur acquiesced.
“I know,” Duncan replied leaning back in his seat. “I am glad that you have come to your senses on the matter.”
“There is still much that remains unsaid between us,” Arthur reminded him. “Important things. She has become an indispensable part of our family. I cannot countenance losing her to the pain of the past.”
“Nor I, but she has a right to know,” Duncan pointed out.
“I will tell her when this is over,” Arthur promised. “It will cause her more sorrow than I would ever wish to bestow.”
“She is strong of character,” Duncan reminded him.
“That she is,” Arthur agreed.
The Dukes spent the day traveling from croft to croft, speaking with the remaining men on the list. Though many suffered, they did not appear to be capable of murder. When they came to the home of the last man on their list, they stepped down from the carriage. A middle-aged woman with blonde hair and pale blue eyes answered the door.
“Good day, Mrs. Pritchard. We apologize for the intrusion, but is Mr. Pritchard at home?” Arthur asked.
“He is down at the tavern, but I will send for him,” the woman answered, inviting them in to have a seat in the parlor. She brought them each a cup of tea and a plate of scones. “I have sent our eldest son to retrieve his father.”
“If I might trouble you for a moment, madam. I wish to inquire as to your husband’s given name. I am afraid our records did not include it, only an initial and we wish to verify that he is the one we seek.” Arthur smiled kindly at the woman hoping to put her at ease. He could tell from her nervous behavior that she was not a
ccustomed to entertaining members of the nobility.
“Matthew,” the woman answered wringing her hands.
“Thank you,” Arthur answered. “Do you happen to know of any men called Mark?”
“Yes, my eldest son is named Mark after his father,” the woman replied.
“I thought you said your husband’s name was Matthew?” Arthur frowned.
“It is Matthew, Matthew Mark Pritchard,” she clarified.
A few moments later Mr. Pritchard came stumbling through the door on the arm of his son. “You summoned me, good wife,” he slurred.
“Yes, I did. Now straighten yourself up. There are two gentlemen of worth waiting for you in the sitting room,” Mrs. Pritchard admonished.
The Defiant Governess of Rosenhill Manor: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 21
