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Never Dare a Duke

Page 13

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘Bugger me,’ was Harlow’s pensive response when he learned of the intruder. ‘I take it you believe her?’

  ‘If I didn’t, this would have convinced me.’ He produced the Kris from the drawer into which he’d put it for safekeeping and threw it in front of Harlow. ‘In his haste to escape, the assassin left it behind.’

  Harlow rubbed his chin, then decided that he required more sustenance in order to consider such a thorny issue and rose to refill both their glasses. ‘An expensive piece. We ain’t dealing with your common or garden crim, guv’nor. That much is obvious. Besides, none of the scoundrels around these parts would have the nerve to try and bump one of your guests off. Why take the chance? A bit of poaching…well, that’s another matter, but this is beyond any of them.’

  ‘I had already reached the same conclusion.’ Brin picked up the Kris and tapped its blade absently against the edge of his desk. ‘So, as you rightly say, it begs the question, why? Was Miss Dorset the intended target?’

  ‘Because of her father’s work with the French authorities?’

  ‘Quite. It’s supposed to be secret, but these things never are. There’s still a lot of resentment among people in authority who lost family members in the fight against Napoleon, and they’re not ready to forgive—especially if renewed trade with France forces the prices of their own produce down.’

  ‘But if Miss Dorset was targeted in her own home it would set a huge hue and cry in motion. Here, it could be passed off as bad fortune. A crime committed by a poacher keen to escape the long arm of the law, or some such rot.’

  Brin nodded. ‘Whoever was persuaded to take on the job must have been paid a pretty penny, given the risk involved. So the man’s either arrogant or desperate.’

  ‘Or holds a grudge against you and wants to make a point. Didn’t need to be Miss Dorset, it could have been any of your guests, but she’s the only one who wanders about alone.’ Harlow chuckled. ‘Most of the time.’

  ‘She wasn’t alone when the man attacked.’

  ‘Well, that supports my theory that any target would have done. The cove couldn’t hang about indefinitely. It’s a big estate but he would have been discovered by yer keepers sooner or later.’

  ‘I agree with you, Harlow.’ Brin scratched the back of his neck, feeling uncompromisingly grim as the audacity of the assault against his authority took deeper root in his mind. ‘Right, so we need to know more. I intend to send an express to Castlereagh, the Foreign Secretary. Dorset will be doing his bidding in France, so he will know if anyone has issued threats against his envoy.’

  Harlow sniffed. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘You don’t think it a prudent first move?’ Brin permitted his surprise to show. ‘We have to start somewhere.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s all manner of people don’t wanna see trading routes re-established with the Frenchies. Their reasons could be political or personal. Either way, I’ve yet to meet a politician who’ll tell you the truth. Mention that it’s raining and they’ll all tell you it’s lovely weather.’ Harlow scrunched up his features, putting Brin in mind of a wrinkled prune. ‘They don’t have it in ’em to be honest, guv’nor. Lord Castlereagh will put his political interests ahead of the welfare of a young woman who means nothing to him and who he’ll look upon as expendable; you just see if I’m not right.’

  Brin wanted to take issue with Harlow’s cynical attitude but could find no fault with it. ‘Ah well, look on the bright side, Harlow. If we’re right and this attack is political, it’s deuced daring and could only have been instigated by a man with considerable influence. A political opponent of the current regime, most likely. The majority would think twice about committing murder in my back yard.’

  ‘Ah, I see what you mean. It’s someone who Castlereagh would be happy to see out of the picture. Someone who wants the peace negotiations to fail so he can sweep in and take control. Someone with political ambitions and sufficient wealth to stir up all sorts of unrest. Someone who ain’t even afraid to tangle with you.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Brin stared out of the window, fixing the view with a mulish look. ‘If we are agreed that…Damn.’ He glanced at Harlow when someone tapped at the door, not appreciating the interruption. ‘Come in!’ he barked, hoping it was not his mother, come to berate him about Farrah’s continued residence at Wentworth Abbey. He had no time to deal with her complaints and not the slightest intention of sending Farrah packing.

  But it was not his mother but Farrah herself who opened the door, looking pale yet composed.

  ‘What are you doing out of bed?’ he asked, his annoyance giving way to concern as she stood in the open doorway, her hair already escaping from the ribbon with which she had tied it back and spilling over her shoulders. She wore a plain muslin gown and looked fragile yet determined. ‘Come along in and sit by the fire.’ He crossed the room, took her elbow and conducted her to a chair. Shadow stirred himself, wagging his tail and licking her hand before resuming his slumbers. ‘This is Harlow, my…’

  ‘His conscience.’ Brin sent Harlow an exasperated look. ‘Nice to make your acquaintance, miss. Glad you wasn’t badly hurt.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Harlow. I hope I am not interrupting anything important.’

  ‘How do you feel?’ Brin asked.

  ‘I am recovered, thank you, but anxious to know what you intend to do to trace my attacker. If you have also decided why he was so determined to attack me then I should be relieved to hear your explanation since I am at a loss to explain it.’

  ‘We were just discussing that very subject.’ Brin ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t suppose there’s the slightest possibility of your leaving the matter to us?’

  ‘You suppose correctly,’ she responded with a sunny smile that made Harlow guffaw. At a glower from Brin he turned his amusement into a cough. ‘I am the one who was physically attacked, and I must now face being treated like a pariah for saving Lady Melody’s life.’ Farrah leaned towards Brin, who had taken the chair across from her, green eyes glistening with determination. ‘I deserve to know why.’

  ‘God save me from independently-minded females,’ Brin muttered, emitting a heartfelt sigh. ‘Very well, I suppose I cannot prevent you from involving yourself.’

  ‘Certainly you cannot, and if you don’t allow me to help you, I shall simply conduct my own investigations.’

  This time, Harlow couldn’t hold back his amusement. ‘It’s about time someone stood up to him, miss,’ he said. ‘He will throw his weight around and have everyone scurrying about to carry out his orders. Scared to death of him they all are. All except me, that is. I keep him grounded, so to speak.’

  ‘Thank you for your insight, Harlow,’ Brin said on a note of sarcasm.

  ‘Think nothing of it, guv’nor,’ Harlow replied cheerfully.

  ‘Go to the village, Harlow,’ Brin said, ‘and ask questions. No need to be discreet. Not that you’d know how to be. Make it known that I’m offering a healthy reward for any information about a stranger wearing a blue coat who’s been loitering about the village, asking questions about access to this estate. Someone somewhere must have seen him. Tell me again everything you remember about the man, Miss Dorset.’

  ‘He was tall. Almost as tall as you are, but stockier. Not fat precisely, just large and agile. I remember being surprised at how fast he moved for such a big man.’

  ‘A former soldier perhaps?’ Harlow suggested.

  ‘Very possibly. He had dark hair and cold, empty eyes. As though killing people was all in a day’s work for him.’ She shuddered. ‘If he had succeeded, his conscience would not have been troubled by what he did; you can be sure of that much.’

  ‘Right. That gives you more to go on, Harlow. I dare say that a man of that ilk would stand out in the village. I need you to instruct the keepers to conduct a thorough search of the grounds, especially in the areas where Miss Dorset caught sight of the man. It’s possible that he’s been camping out somewhere, in which case th
ere will be signs left behind that might help us.’

  ‘Right you are, guv’nor.’ Harlow drained the remnants of his cognac and turned towards the door. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

  ‘Do that, and make sure that all access points to the estate are properly patrolled. I don’t want any repeat attempts on the lives of any of my guests.’

  Farrah sent him a concerned look. ‘You think he will try again?’ she asked.

  ‘I have no idea,’ he responded softly, ‘but I am not taking any chances since I don’t have the least intention of placing you at risk for a second time.’

  Chapter Nine

  Farrah felt deeply disturbed by Brin’s conviction that the assassin had not given up on her. He appeared grimly determined to keep her safe, but she failed to see how he could achieve that ambition. She would only be here for a week—less than that now—before resuming her normal life in Hampshire. She was perfectly sure that Lady Beardsley would bar her from returning to her house, as had been the original plan. Short of hiding herself away, a situation which she refused to contemplate, she would be far more accessible when she went about her daily business at home.

  ‘Why is this happening to me?’ she asked Brin, looking up at him and attempting to sound curious rather than terrified half out of her wits.

  ‘That was one of the questions I was intending to ask you.’ He smiled across the distance that separated them, leaned forward as though he intended to grasp her hand, but then thought better of it. ‘Have you disappointed any admirers?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ She waved the suggestion aside.

  ‘It was actually a serious question. Some men don’t take rejection well. Their pride cannot withstand being forced to accept that they are resistible.’

  Farrah bit her lower lip. ‘I have been the subject of charm offences from time to time, I won’t deny it. But it was my fortune that’s the attraction, not me. I’m well aware of that and have never given any gentleman reason to suppose that I might return his entirely fictitious affections.’

  ‘But there has been someone more persistent, I think.’

  ‘Actually yes, there was one person during the summer who seemed keen, but I did not welcome his advances. Quite the reverse.’ She reached down to ruffle Shadow’s ears, in need of a distraction as she contemplated the awkwardness that particular situation had created. ‘It caused a little dissent within my family. The gentleman is a close friend of my brother’s and I was accustomed to his being in and out of our house. But I had absolutely no idea that Oscar had given him reason to suppose I might be willing to…well, to hear his declaration. That was quite wrong of him and we had words on the matter. Oscar might be my brother, but he is not my keeper and has no authority to make commitments on my behalf, especially not without bothering to discuss them with me first.’

  Brin raised a brow. ‘His friend had been led to believe that you would accept him?’

  ‘I believe so.’ She paused as she recollected the embarrassing situation. ‘It was rather awkward. Mr Elton contrived to corner me in our conservatory in Hampshire. I had not realised he was in the house, otherwise he would not have found me in any of the public rooms, since I had begun to think that he…well, you know.’ She felt her cheeks warm. ‘I think it a very great pity that a woman cannot feel safe from unwanted attentions in her own home, but since Mr Elton was almost like a member of the family there was no way I could ask Oscar not to invite him again.’

  ‘You did not care for his society?’

  ‘At first I did, before I reached the age of discretion. Prior to that, he had seemed elegant and sophisticated to a young girl who had seen little of the world. He was entertaining, charming, well read and well-travelled. Not that I saw a great deal of him, what with Papa and Oscar being so frequently away from home. But whenever Oscar was in England, he and Mark Elton were inseparable.’ She paused, attempting to fairly articulate her impressions from the time. ‘As I matured, I began to notice a calculating aspect to Mr Elton’s character that I didn’t find attractive. Nothing specific that I could hold against him but my childhood fascination with my brother’s suave friend gave way to indifference and I had absolutely no desire to marry him.’

  ‘What are Elton’s circumstances? I don’t know the name. Does he share your brother’s interests in France?’

  Farrah lifted one shoulder. ‘I really have no idea. His family has an estate somewhere in this part of the world. I have never visited, so I can’t tell you much about his connections other than that he and Oscar were at school together. I do know his father is still alive, but his mother died some years ago. He told me once when he started to bombard me with charm that we had both lost our mothers at an early age, which gave us something in common. However, it’s irrelevant.’ She gave an impatient sigh. ‘Mr Elton proposed but I declined that proposal and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since then. He has certainly not attempted to renew his suit.’

  ‘How did he take the rejection?’

  Farrah took a moment to consider her response. ‘Not terribly well, actually. He looked astounded, muttered something about Oscar having assured him there wouldn’t be a difficulty, that it was deuced humiliating, and that he would sort it out with him.’ She frowned and abstractedly nibbled the end of her index finger. ‘I had forgotten about that. I wonder what he could have meant by it?’

  ‘It meant that he had been assured of success and didn’t take kindly to being made to look like a fool.’ Brin leaned back in his chair, his legs splayed. Farrah’s gaze was drawn to his muscular thighs encased in tight-fitting buckskin. She couldn’t seem to look away, which both horrified and fascinated her. He caught her gawping and sent her an intimate smile that turned her insides to jelly. She sat a little straighter, averted her gaze and was almost convinced that she heard Brin suppress a groan. ‘I should have thought it was your father’s approbation that he ought to have applied for, as any gentleman worthy of the name would have done.’

  ‘True, but Papa was not often at home. I suppose Oscar assumed his responsibilities without bothering to enlighten me. If Papa had been in Hampshire, he would have consulted me and ascertained my feelings before giving Mr Elton his permission to address me. That is what Oscar ought to have done, and you can be sure that I made the point to him very forcibly after the event.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. What explanation did your brother give for his peremptory behaviour?’

  ‘None, really. I’m afraid we argued. I lost my temper with him, and he with me. Papa and I have always been very close. Oscar and I not so much. There are eight years difference in our ages, so we never had much to do with one another during our younger years. By the time I was old enough to understand that I had a brother, he was away at school, then university. I have grown up feeling like I was an only child. Even so, I adored my handsome big brother and looked forward to his coming home.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think he returned my feelings and was rather distant with me; as though I was an irritation to be tolerated rather than taken seriously.’

  ‘I begin to take your brother in extreme dislike.’

  Farrah smiled. ‘I cannot see that you and your sisters are especially close, if you don’t mind my mentioning the matter.’

  Brin chuckled. ‘Would it matter if I did? Anyway, the differences between my circumstances and yours can be simply explained. I wouldn’t dream of promising any of my sisters in marriage without first seeking their feelings regarding the individuals petitioning for their hands, and looking thoroughly into the aspirants’ backgrounds, too. Fortune hunters abound, you know.’

  ‘I know it all too well,’ she replied with feeling. ‘Anyway, this was two months ago. Oscar went back to France in a huff and I have neither seen nor heard from him since.’ She allowed a reflective pause. ‘Mr Elton treated the entire interlude as a formality. He showed not one ounce of romance and made no pretence of affection.’ She tossed her head, her indignation increasing. ‘He was insufferably presumpt
uous. I subsequently overheard Oscar and Mr Elton arguing about me, but I didn’t linger to listen to what was said. I preferred not to know. Later on, Oscar accused me of being overindulged and out of touch with reality. I told him he was an arrogant prig who had no interest in seeing me happy.’

  ‘And your father? What did he have to say?’

  ‘As far as I am aware, he knows nothing about it. He would be furious if he knew what Oscar had done. Their relationship is not an easy one, and I didn’t want to make matters worse. I am well able to stand up for myself without Papa’s intervention.’

  Brin grinned at her. ‘I’m sure you are.’

  ‘I don’t know why Mr Elton was so set upon marrying me. His affections were most definitely not engaged, and I am certain he wouldn’t resort to murder to salve his wounded pride. Besides, how would he know where to find me?’ She paused. ‘I have given the matter more consideration since we parted earlier and have concluded that the rogue who attacked us today was an opportunist. I was not his target. Any of your guests would have done, just so long as it cast a slur upon your reputation.’

  ‘You might well be right, and it’s one possibility that Harlow is investigating. He will root out the truth. He has a persuasive way about him.’

  ‘The two of you seem very familiar.’

  Brin smiled. ‘Harlow is no ordinary servant. He’s been with me since I was in short coats and has proved invaluable. He came back ahead of me from India, arranged the renovations to the Abbey and prevented my mother from emptying the coffers as soon as I filled them.’

 

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