Never Dare a Duke

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘I dare say your mother dislikes him intensely if she had to run to him every time she needed a new parasol.’

  He sent her a look that implied she had got it exactly right. ‘As my fortune increased, Harlow carried out my instructions to the letter. I would not have trusted anyone else to oversee the work—but don’t tell him that. He already exploits his position quite blatantly enough.’

  Farrah smiled. ‘You are obviously very attached to him.’

  ‘There’s no one I trust more.’

  ‘Talking of trust, Hazel came to see me just now. She mentioned in passing that her sister Ellen had noticed you and me walking in the grounds together yesterday. She has taken pleasure in telling everyone that we were engaged in intimate conversation, which obviously we were not.’ Farrah gave an exasperated huff. ‘She and Hazel are very different. Ellen is a spiteful little minx who enjoys causing trouble for those she resents whilst pretending to be angelic. Anyway, everyone will now think that I’ve decided I had a prior claim on your affections and attacked Lady Melody in a fit of jealousy, regardless of all the evidence to the contrary.’

  ‘Let them. The last time I checked, there were no rules against walking in my own grounds with one of my guests. And if we were seen, there were no improprieties taking place.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Which will not prevent my detractors from embellishing that delicious en dit and branding me as an ambitious, fortune-hunting hussy who’s no better than she ought to be.’

  ‘They fail to take into account the fact that you are already an heiress in your own right. You don’t need my fortune.’

  ‘Since when did the truth ever stop gossip?’

  He shrugged. ‘You don’t strike me as the type who will allow a little name-calling to overset you.’

  ‘I am more likely to retaliate by telling my detractors precisely what I think of their narrowminded views.’ She sent him a mischievous smile. ‘Mind you, that’s what I did with Lady Melody earlier, which resulted in this almighty farrago.’

  ‘Did Lady Hazel see the attacker from the cabin window?’

  Farrah shook her head. ‘She saw nothing other than her precious Mr Anglesey, whose conduct does not show him in a good light.’

  ‘My thoughts precisely.’

  ‘He can do no wrong in her eyes. I think she privately considers him to be her champion for putting the protection of her reputation ahead of everything else.’

  ‘Another name for cowardice in my book.’ Brin scowled. ‘I will have words with Anglesey. There is an outside chance that he might have seen something.’ Brin paused. ‘Or knows something about the attack.’

  Farrah jerked upright in her seat. ‘Whatever do you mean by that?’

  ‘Presumably Anglesey knew that you would accompany Lady Hazel to the clearing that houses the cabin.’

  ‘Yes, but he has absolutely no reason to wish me harm. I have met him just twice, when he’s called upon Hazel. We have barely exchanged a dozen words beyond the usual pleasantries.’ Farrah stood. ‘Anyway, time’s getting on. I had best go up and change if I am to keep the gossips’ tongues wagging by having the temerity to appear at dinner.’

  Brin stood too and squeezed her shoulder. ‘I am sorry that you have been inconvenienced by this affair, but we will get to the bottom of it and you will be vindicated. On that point you have my absolute assurance.’

  She swallowed back her burgeoning emotions. To have such a sophisticate taking an active interest in her affairs could easily turn her head. Despite the danger he was convinced she still faced, he had a way of making her feel safe and protected. She knew, of course, that his primary concern was the preservation of his good name. It would create gossip if there was a fatal stabbing on his estate, but Farrah also sensed that he liked her for herself, and that meant a lot to her.

  Farrah smiled up at him, feeling reassured by his stark determination to set the record straight and putting total faith in his ability to achieve that ambition. Authoritative, formidable and full of integrity, he would make a powerful ally—and a dangerous foe. Someone had the audacity to launch an unprovoked attack on his land, and that person could not—would not—be permitted to get away with it.

  They stood facing one another, a few inches of daylight separating their bodies as she drank in the sight of his rugged features, full of determination yet softening as he regarded her with a probing look. All sorts of highly inappropriate desires flooded her mind as he reached out a hand to softly cup the cheek that had been grazed in the melee. The touch of his long, capable fingers stirred her passions further, and a little gasp slipped past her lips. She sent him a wide-eyed look and then moved out of range while she still had the strength to do what was seemly. She couldn’t risk remaining with him when he looked at her with such undiluted passion in his eyes for fear of making an almighty fool of herself. Brin might well desire her, and she certainly reciprocated that desire, but she wasn’t about to give herself to any man outside of marriage.

  And since she had no plans ever to marry, the questionable pleasures of the bedchamber would just have to remain a mystery to her.

  ‘Until later,’ she said, bobbing a hasty curtsey and rapidly heading for the door.

  *

  Brin watched her go, thinking about what might have happened had she not found the strength to walk away. Surprised that she had. Despite her insistence that she was not attempting to make an impression upon him, he sensed that she felt the deep sense of expectancy that sprang up between them whenever they were alone together and was, like him, fighting the desire to explore it further. Except that she had kept her senses about her, which was more than could be said for him. The attraction was extraordinary, like nothing he had ever known before, leaving him in a near-permanent state of frustration and barely able to think straight as a consequence.

  Farrah Dorset, with her strong opinions, her disregard for society’s mores and refreshing candour was the closest he had ever come to finding a female whom he could stand to imagine spending the rest of his life with. Now wouldn’t that put the cat amongst the pigeons he thought, chuckling? She was right to suggest that his status-conscious mother had taken her in dislike and would never forgive Brin for lowering the family’s stature if he offered for her.

  He might very well do just that once he was sure of his feelings. He was less sure about the stubborn little minx’s willingness to accept him; a prospect which presented him with a potentially delightful challenge. One that he wouldn’t make his mind up about yet; not when she was feeling quite so vulnerable. He wouldn’t have her take him out of a sense of obligation. He first needed to discover who it was that wanted to harm her, and why.

  Perhaps she was right to suggest that it was not she herself who held the assassin’s interest, Brin reasoned. Any lone female would do just as well, but none of his other guests shared Farrah’s love of fresh air and solitude. Brin firmed his lips. This matter had suddenly become very personal.

  Sighing, he resumed his seat behind his desk, conscious of her faint perfume lingering in the air. Adjuring himself to return his mind to the business in hand, he took a moment to think about what he wanted to say, and then penned the express to Castlereagh. He sealed the missive using his signet ring that bore the ducal crest, then rang the bell and gave instructions for the letter to be sent to London immediately.

  With that task completed, he leaned back in his chair and thought about all that Farrah had revealed regarding her family’s circumstances. The fact that her brother had tried so clumsily to force her into matrimony with his closest friend seemed highly suspicious. Was the friend short of blunt? Farrah’s doting grandfather had settled a large dowry on her, which would attract fortune hunters. But surely the miserable bounder who sought to take advantage of his connection to her brother ought to have made more of an effort to appear as though his affections were engaged. Ladies enjoyed romantic gestures. Elton probably remembered Farrah’s childish adoration, was sure of his ground and assum
ed she would forego romance in return for the security of marriage.

  He gave a disgusted grunt, thinking that Elton’s actions showed how little he understood her character. That in turn led him to wonder a little more about the brother’s reasons for pushing the match. He would need to find out more about Oscar Dorset’s circumstances and do it fast. He wanted this matter resolved before the shoot came to an end, preferably sooner. Farrah did not deserve to suffer the spiteful resentment of the women beneath his roof for something that was not of her doing.

  He rang the bell and summoned Walker.

  ‘Has the shooting party returned to the house?’ he asked when his butler responded to his call.

  ‘It has, your grace. The gentlemen came back a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Have Anglesey come and see me.’

  Walker inclined his head and withdrew.

  Anglesey had obviously been expecting the summons and didn’t keep Brin waiting.

  ‘You want to know more about this afternoon, I dare say,’ Anglesey said, dropping into the chair in front of the fire that Brin indicated. ‘I’m sorry, really I am. I wish there was more that I could tell you, but I didn’t see a thing.’

  ‘I’m sure you would have done had you bothered to go to the ladies’ aid when you heard the shouting,’ Brin said, not keeping the contempt from his tone.

  ‘Look, I’ll be honest with you. I’d picked up on the antipathy between Lady Melody and Miss Dorset earlier. Well, it would have been hard not to. Can’t think what made Miss Dorset insult Lady Melody so publicly, but there you have it. There’s no accounting for ladies’ behaviour. I heard their voices outside and assumed they were resolving their differences.’ He ran a hand through his hair, discomposed by Brin’s steely look of disapproval, no doubt. ‘Then I heard shouting and squabbling and assumed…’

  His words trailed off. ‘You were more interested in Lady Hazel and didn’t want your cosy liaison interrupted. Since her mother doesn’t encourage your interest in the lady, you have no choice but to resort to squalid assignations.’

  ‘No!’ Anglesey leapt to his feet. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘Sit down and stop making such an ass of yourself, Anglesey. I am not in the mood for histrionics. Your interest in Lady Hazel, honourable or otherwise, doesn’t concern me. The attack upon the ladies that you failed to prevent most definitely does.’

  ‘I apologise.’ Anglesey adopted a sheepish expression. ‘I should have intervened. It all happened so quickly. I didn’t have enough time to think of anything other than Lady Hazel’s reputation.’

  ‘Which you planned to destroy by encouraging her to meet with you in private. However, that is not the issue here.’ Brin paused, testing a theory that had just occurred to him. ‘How well do you know the Dorsets?’

  Anglesey seemed surprised by the question and relieved by the abrupt change of subject. ‘I am barely acquainted with Miss Dorset. I know her brother quite well. We were at Cambridge together, but I have not seen him for a while. He’s mostly in France, working with his father. When he’s in Hampshire I sometimes see him in the Albion.’

  ‘The Albion?’

  ‘A gaming hell in Southampton.’

  ‘Dorset is a gamester?’

  Anglesey shrugged. ‘Aren’t all gentlemen? I chance my hand from time to time, which is how I know that Dorset favours the place whenever he’s home. He’s always there with Elton.’

  Brin tried not to show how significant that snippet of information could be by pretending disinterest.

  ‘Very well, Anglesey. Don’t let me keep you from changing.’

  Anglesey quit the room so fast that he left Brin with the impression of his backside being on fire. He liked the man less and less but since it was not one of his sisters who had developed a tendre for him, his personal opinion of the cove didn’t signify.

  He was about to go up and change himself when the door opened and Kent and Nyle put their heads around it.

  ‘I say, what the devil was that all about earlier?’ Kent asked.

  They were Brin’s closest friends, totally discreet, and Brin didn’t hesitate to tell them everything.

  ‘Heavens!’ Nyle raised both brows. ‘You have to admire the damned cove’s nerve.’

  ‘Quite. And Miss Dorset is left looking like the villain of the piece.’

  ‘Not for long if you have your way,’ Kent replied with alacrity. ‘How can we help?’

  ‘By showing Miss Dorset your support when she enters the drawing room. She needs all the friends she can get.’

  ‘She is assured of our backing,’ Nyle responded without hesitation. ‘Let us know if there’s anything else we can do to unmask the rogue who tried to kill her.’

  ‘I will…ah, Harlow. Back so soon? What news?’

  ‘I made a quick visit to the village,’ he said, ‘and left people there asking questions. But I did learn something of interest.’

  ‘As have I.’

  Brin explained about Farrah’s disappointed suitor and his gambling habit.

  ‘Miss Dorset is reckoned to be quite the heiress,’ Harlow remarked, scratching his head. ‘Word is that her father dotes on her. You’re thinking that the brother’s in debt to Elton, who needs a wealthy wife, so bringing about the match would be an effective way of wiping his slate clean?’

  ‘The possibility had occurred to me, given that Dorset was apparently furious with his sister for not accepting Elton. I need you to send someone to Southampton on my authority to ask questions at the Albion. I want to know how much debt Dorset and Elton are in and to whom.’ Brin leaned back in his chair. ‘Now, what did you find out?’

  ‘The cove with the blue coat put up for a couple of nights at the Fox and Hounds,’ Harlow replied. ‘Arrogant sod wasn’t even subtle about it. Goes by the name of Pickard.’ Harlow sniffed. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if it weren’t his real name either. I mean, otherwise he’d have called himself Smith or something equally ambiguous.’

  ‘Is he still there?’

  ‘Course not. That would be too easy. He cleared out this morning, before the attack, presumably aware that he’d have to disappear, successful or not. But the landlord distinctly recalls him meeting with a gent late yesterday. They talked for a few minutes in the alleyway outside the tavern. Gibson noticed them when he went to fetch a new barrel from the outside cellar.’

  ‘And let me guess,’ Brin said, grinding his teeth. ‘That gent was Daniel Anglesey.’

  Harlow’s jaw dropped open. ‘How the devil did you work that one out?’ he asked.

  ‘You’d better check out Anglesey’s debts at the Albion, too,’ Brin said grimly.

  Chapter Ten

  Farrah returned to her chamber without seeing any of the other guests but feeling as though dozens of pairs of censorious eyes were observing her. Undoubtedly a case of nerves and an overactive imagination getting the better of her. She was, she accepted, the orchestrator of her own downfall since her efforts to rescue Lady Melody had played right into the conniving duchess’s hands.

  Brin’s questions about her brief meeting with Mark Elton had stirred up unpleasant memories. She had played down the ferocity of her argument with Oscar and the extent of Elton’s seething anger when she rejected him, convinced that disappointment wouldn’t have made him resort to a complex murder plot in a foolish bid for revenge. He would have absolutely nothing to gain from taking such an almighty risk.

  It would be a waste of energy for Brin to explore the possibility, since no one had known that she would be coming to Wentworth Abbey more than a few days in advance of her setting off for the place. A ploy of this nature would have taken a great deal of advance plotting, she imagined. Not that she had any experience of hiring assassins, but given the lawless nature of their occupation it was safe to assume that they were cautious individuals who didn’t take unnecessary risks. Not that the man in the grounds had been especially cautious—she had caught sight of him several times—but perhaps he had assumed that a female
target would make easy pickings and so had become careless. Either that or he enjoyed taunting his victims.

  Hiring assassins must be an expensive business, which made her doubly certain that Mr Elton wouldn’t have bothered. He was a highly respectable and personable man, and if he was desperate for a wife he would not lack for choice. He didn’t love Farrah, so her rejection of his offer would barely have dented his pride.

  Oscar was another matter entirely, though. When he heard that she had declined Elton’s proposal, she had never seen him look so angry. Or so afraid.

  ‘Have you any idea what you’ve done, you selfish, thoughtless little fool?’ he had demanded to know.

  She had been angry too, and had retaliated, telling him that he had no right to make commitments on her behalf, without thinking to ask what he’d meant by such an obscure remark. It came back to her now with chilling clarity, but she still refused to believe that he’d had anything to do with the man in blue. She and Oscar had never been close. She had sometimes suspected him of being jealous of the way in which their father doted on her, but he would never go to such extreme measures to eliminate the competition for Papa’s affections. Besides, he was safely tucked away in France.

  Farrah threw herself into a chair, feeling deeply disturbed by a possibility that she desperately attempted to convince herself was…well, impossible. Oscar was many things, but she had never thought of him as being foolish, or needlessly reckless when he had absolutely nothing to gain from taking such an almighty risk. She hoped against hope that Mr Harlow would discover the identity of the elusive man in the blue coat and that he would prove to have no connection to her family. She shuddered. The alternative simply didn’t bear thinking about.

  And yet she couldn’t seem to think about anything else.

  She wanted to daydream about Brin, about his assertive determination to get to the bottom of the attempt on her life. Of the breathlessness she felt whenever she was alone with him. A man accustomed to wielding power and whose mere presence conveyed strength, assertiveness and a delicious edge of danger that made her heart race. She recalled the manner in which his expression softened whenever he looked at her for a little too long and a little too speculatively, causing a series of anticipatory shivers to tingle down her spine.