But Peg would not leave well enough alone. ‘Hugh, you are far too suspicious of everyone we come in contact with. Why must it be the dancing master that corrupted us?’
‘Corrupted is a rather strong word,’ David added, though there was no sign that anyone in the Bethune family wanted his opinion.
‘If he is not at fault, then surely you must be ready to demonstrate the dances he has taught you,’ Scofield said, gesturing towards the centre of the room.
‘Now?’ Peg said, obviously horrified.
‘I told you that there would be a test of your skills,’ he added with a tight smile.
‘You said we would have a month,’ Peg reminded him.
‘But it seems that I already need proof that this is a productive activity and not some devious scheme to escape this house. And do not think the pause in dance lessons and your sudden interest in Bond Street has gone unnoticed, either.’
He must have spoken to his men and was aware that his sisters had spent the last two days losing their keepers and moving unescorted through London. David stared at each of them in feigned confusion, doing his best to pretend that he’d had no part in their activities.
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ Peg replied, her smile overly bright, her mind probably racing to find a way to avoid the inevitable discovery. ‘But if you wish for a demonstration of our dancing, I see no reason why we cannot oblige. I just hope you do not mean to fault Mr Castellano because we are indifferent pupils. He really has done his best. And he has been ill,’ she added, as if this would explain everything.
‘I hope he is not about to experience a relapse.’ Hugh turned to stare at David with a look that would have convinced a weaker man to run for the door.
David showed no concern in response, answering with a subservient bow of his head. ‘I am much better now. And the ladies should not think so little of their abilities. They are both most talented.’
‘I am well aware of that,’ Hugh replied. ‘But I have no idea if those skills extend to dancing.’
‘How do you expect us to show you, without music?’ Peg interrupted, stalling for time.
‘I expect you to do it the same way you have been,’ Hugh countered. ‘The servants say they hear much conversation coming from the room and occasional long silences. But they have not heard a single note of music.’
‘It is possible to learn the steps by counting,’ David said, tapping his cane on the floor. ‘Uno, due, tre. Like so.’ He gave one of his brilliant smiles to the Duke as if the matter should be obvious to anyone.
‘Uno, due, tre,’ the Duke agreed, returning the smile with a glare and pointed again at the makeshift dance floor.
‘Of course,’ David said with a deep bow, holding out his hand to Lady Olivia.
She looked horrified at being singled out and cast a glance at Hugh that contained all the guilt that he had probably hoped to see.
David gave a slight beckon of his hand to remind her that he was standing before her and needed her attention. ‘And what dance do you recommend we do for your brother, my lady? You must be the one to pick a favourite.’
He was giving her the opportunity to pick a dance she knew well, which should save them both from embarrassment. Unfortunately, the girl seemed more panicked than confident in having to make the choice. Thinking for a moment, she said, ‘The Boulanger.’ She paused, covering her mouth. ‘No. We would need to make a circle for that.’
‘Not enough people,’ he agreed. To give her a hint, he tapped his stick on the floor three times. He could see Peg mouthing the word waltz, willing her sister to understand it.
Liv ignored them both and blurted, ‘Sauteuse,’ which was more a step than an actual dance. Though it was easy enough, it was fast and required that the lady pay attention to where her partner might lead.
‘Very well,’ David said with a nervous smile, and reached out gingerly to take the older sister by the hands. Then, he began to count for her, this time in English. ‘One, two, three.’
But instead of attending to what she was doing, she kept glancing back at her brother in apology or looking to David for approval. Her steps were leaden instead of the sprightly hops required and she could not seem to follow his perfectly even pace.
‘Enough,’ said Hugh, before they could embarrass themselves more than they already had.
David released her, stepped away and bowed again, then turned to the Duke with a rueful smile, bracing himself for the response.
None came. Instead, he turned to his other sister. ‘And what have you learned, Peg?’ Scofield’s voice was soft, but there was no gentleness to it. Instead, it held unmistakable menace.
David turned to her with another bow, formal and impersonal. ‘My lady? A waltz, perhaps?’
‘Of course,’ she said, stepping forward. He was not sure she had ever done the dance before, but he had, and it was the easiest one he could think of. She had followed where he had led for more than a week. And in bed, she moved like a part of his own body. He was confident that between the two of them, they could show the Duke enough skill that they might salvage this day after all.
Rather than taking her by the hands, he put his hands gently upon her waist. She responded by gripping his shoulders and taking a deep, nervous breath. With a slight inclination of his body, he indicated that they were about to start.
Despite the anger she must still hold for him, she smiled in response and followed his lead. They moved well together, just as he knew they would. Dancing to the rhythm he set was as natural as breathing and he spun her easily about the room, as if they’d spent every minute of their lives practising for just this moment. She was light as a feather in his arms and it made him wish that they’d spent some of the last few days actually dancing so he could have a few more memories like this one.
‘Enough!’ This time, Hugh shouted, breaking the mood that had filled him while they’d danced. Peg pulled away from him, half turning in an attempt at rejection. But the blush on her face said that she’d enjoyed the waltz far too much to be just another pupil.
David turned to look at the Duke. Scofield’s face was dark with fury, his hands balled at his sides. ‘Castellano, or whatever you name is. My office. Now!’ He stabbed the air with a finger, pointing down the hall towards the study.
And now, David would see what happened to people who crossed the mad Duke of Scofield. He looked back at Peg with a smile, trying to ignore the look of horror on her face at the way their lessons had ended. ‘Ladies,’ he said, offering a flourish and bow to encompass the pair of them. Then he preceded the Duke out of the room, feeling like a prisoner on the way to the gallows.
When he had set out on this adventure, he had joked to his editor that if the Duke uncovered his ruse, he was likely to be found dead. This was the first moment that he actually thought the prediction might be true. His palms went cold and clammy as he thought of the books in the apartment and the desperate letter that must have evoked the response they’d read. There was an embarrassing hitch in his breathing that he had to struggle to control. This must be what terror felt like, for he had never felt like this before. Nor could he think of a time that he had ever been in this much danger.
Whatever it was, he would not let it unman him. He focused on the corridor in front of him, weighing the possibility of darting away down a side hall or making a run for the front door, all the while feeling the eyes of the Duke focused between his shoulder blades, prodding him forward like the point of a dagger.
He wanted to run. But if he ran, his investigation was over. He would never know what had happened. Now that he had to make the choice of walking into a private room with a murderer or saving his own life, he realised that, if he was to have any peace in life or death, he had to know as much of the truth as he was able to find. The nearness to that truth was all it took to calm his nerves and ready him for the confrontation ahead
. He tightened his grip on the walking stick he carried, ready to strike if needed, and continued forward.
When they entered the study, the Duke slammed the door behind them with a thunderous crash that would have turned his knees to jelly had it occurred a few moments before. Then Scofield pushed past him, walking around the desk to throw himself into the chair behind it like a king taking his throne. He stared at David with an intensity that pinned him in place near the door. The silence between them stretched tight as a wire.
When it was clear that David was not about to blurt a confession, the Duke yielded and spoke. ‘I told you when I hired you to stay away from my sisters.’
David shrugged and walked forward, closing the distance between them. When he spoke, he did not bother with an accent. ‘It is somewhat difficult to teach dancing without making some contact.’
‘Do not toy with me!’ the Duke snapped. ‘It is clear from the way my younger sister looked at you as you danced that there has been more than a little—contact, as you call it.’
David looked back at him without expression, for it was an implication about a lady that no true gentleman should admit to.
The Duke responded with a roar of disgust. ‘I knew it was a risk to bring a stranger into the house. I was a fool to allow it, or to think the girl would have better sense. And you...’ His finger stabbed the air again, pointing in David’s face. ‘You dishonourable cur. You—whoever you are. If you had sufficient rank to earn the challenge, I would call you out over this.’
‘How interesting that you think only certain people are worth killing face to face,’ David replied. He watched the rage simmering in the other man’s eyes before adding, ‘And my real name is David Castell.’
‘The muckraker,’ the Duke spat the words.
‘Journalist,’ David corrected, smiling as though the recognition was meant as a compliment.
‘I can guess what you came to find,’ the Duke responded. ‘You want to write another article tracing all the villainy that has occurred in this country back to my doorstep.’
‘The thought had occurred to me,’ David replied.
‘Do what you will to me,’ the Duke replied. ‘I do not care one way or the other what is said about me. But only a spineless worm would toy with my sister to gain the information he wanted.’
He had to agree. It would have been a shameful thing to do. ‘It was never my intent,’ David answered back, then paused, knowing that what he’d said was untrue. He had planned to charm the information out of one or the other of the sisters, using whatever advantages he could. If he had not fallen in love with Peg, he might never have noticed the infamy of his own behaviour.
The Duke scoffed at his weak denial. ‘Next you will be telling me that what occurred between you and Margaret was a matter of genuine affection.’
‘And suppose it was?’ he said, unwilling to deny what he felt. ‘Are you ever going to free your sisters from this house and allow them to marry? Or do you mean to drag them down with you when I publish the things I have discovered?’
‘My sisters’ futures are none of your concern,’ Hugh replied, his expression icy. ‘Nor do I care about your supposed feelings for Margaret, or whatever happened between you. I only need to be sure that it never happens again and does not become part of one of your sordid articles.’
‘I would never...’ David said, disgusted at the suggestion.
‘Since you entered my house by lying, I have no reason to trust your words.’ Scofield pulled out a drawer in front of him and produced a chequebook, then began writing. ‘David Castell, with two ls? Well, then, Castell, in a few moments, you will be leaving this house never to return. You will not speak to or write a word about either of my sisters, once you have crossed over the threshold.’
‘I had no intention of including them in my article,’ David replied, knowing that, this time, he was honest. ‘It was only you that I was interested in.’
‘And supposedly you have found facts that will damn me.’ The Duke gave another sceptical cough. ‘Then it will surprise you to learn that I do not give a fig about what you might say about me. I cannot think of a crime that has not already been attributed to me. Write whatever you think you know and put an end to this.’ He continued to write the cheque, ripping it from the book with an angry snap of his hand and pushing it across the desk.
David picked it up and took a moment to admire the impressive number written on it. The amount was more than enough to tempt even the most unrepentant bounder to leave and not look back. He took it and ripped it neatly in half, setting the pieces back on the desk. ‘This will not be necessary.’
‘Because you stand upon your honour?’ the Duke said, unsmiling. ‘Or is it Castellano’s honour? Perhaps his is better than yours.’
‘Peg has known my name, almost from the first,’ he said. His purpose as well, though he did not want to endanger her by saying so.
‘Lady Margaret, to you,’ the Duke snapped.
David shook his head. ‘To me, she will always be Peg.’
‘It does not really matter, because you will never be seeing her again,’ the Duke replied.
David tipped his head and raised a finger in warning. ‘On that, I am not so sure. You see, Your Grace, I happen to love her. And I suspect she might feel the same. If I discover that to be true, I have no intention of leaving her to suffer under your dubious influence.’
‘You find me to be the problem?’ Scofield’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he rose from his chair in offence.
David stared back at him, unflinching. ‘I will not rest until I am sure she is safe. And from what I know of you thus far, I do not believe she is safe with you.’
The Duke slammed his fists down hard on the desktop, probably as a prelude to the beating that David was about to receive. He pointed towards the door. ‘Worry about your own safety, Castell. Hers is my concern, not yours. Now get out of this house before I—’
‘Kill me?’ he interrupted, honestly curious for the response.
‘Have you thrown bodily into the street,’ the Duke finished.
Compared to his previous crimes, and the things the Duke had threatened before, it was a mild response. Where was the fit of madness? Where was the uncontrollable rage that the letter had described? Since David had been actively trying to provoke him, he’d expected to be engulfed in anger that burned like wildfire. Instead, Scofield’s response was amazingly cold.
David stared at him for a moment, wondering if the Duke was the sort of coward who could only pounce once his victim had turned his back. But there was no sign that the other man tensed to strike. If anything, he looked exhausted by his brief display of temper.
When he was sure that there was nothing more to come, David said, ‘Very well, I will leave. For now, at least. But I shall return.’ Then he deliberately turned his back on a murderer and paused, waiting for the reaction.
‘What are you dawdling for?’ the Duke snapped. ‘Go!’
‘As you wish,’ David said, turning back and offering the Duke a last smile that he was sure would annoy him. ‘Give my regards to Peg.’ Then he did as he had been commanded and left the house with much to think about.
Chapter Fourteen
The shouting had not stopped for three-quarters of an hour.
Peg tried not to hope that her sister was receiving the majority of Hugh’s anger. It hardly seemed fair that Liv, who had barely been involved in the escapades with David, should be punished for Peg’s mistakes.
For herself? Even if she had done wrong, she had meant well. She had only aided David in an attempt to clear her brother. It was not her fault if he was actually guilty. She had trusted him, as a good sister should. If he was truly a madman with uncontrollable urges, she had never seen them. How was she to know that things would end thus?
If she had not been so sure of a positive ou
tcome to their searching, she would not have lain with David. Or perhaps it had never really mattered to her. Perhaps she had suspected from the first how things might end and had grabbed for as much happiness as she could get, before returning home to face the future.
Surprisingly, she regretted nothing of what had happened between them. She had loved David then, and still did, despite the way things had ended. Her only mistake had been in falling in love with a man whose needs were so outside the welfare of her own family that she could not be with him.
It would have been far worse had she fallen for an actual dancing master with a string of foolish young girls and broken hearts behind him. David had not meant to break her heart. He had at least been sincere in his feelings for her. Since it was unlikely that she would ever marry, she was fortunate to have a lost love that she could look back on.
There was a moment of silence and the door to the study opened, revealing her sister, tears staining her white face and a handkerchief clutched in her hand. She looked to Peg and gave a helpless shrug as a sob escaped her and she rushed up the stairs towards her room.
‘Next.’
Peg rose from the bench where she’d been sitting and walked into the office. Her brother was staring at her, probably waiting for her to blurt a confession or burst into tears as Olivia had. Instead, she stared back at him, unwilling to yield information he might not already know.
‘Explain yourself,’ he said at last.
‘What have I done, precisely, that needs an explanation?’ she replied. ‘I danced successfully with the dancing master and proved to you that I have been making good use of my time with him.’
‘Good use of your time?’ Hugh made a slight gagging noise as if he had guessed exactly what had happened when she was alone with David. ‘He was a reporter, not a dancing master. Apparently, you knew that and kept it from me.’
‘Because I guessed how you would react,’ she said. ‘You would have called a halt to the lessons immediately and kept me in ignorance, just as you have been doing since Father died.’
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