Never Dare a Duke

by Wendy Soliman

  Was this her fault for burying her head in the sand?

  ‘We shall find a way to keep you safe, my dear,’ her father assured her.

  ‘Where is Oscar now?’ she asked.

  ‘I have no idea. As I say, I have severed all ties with him. Painful though it was, he must learn to stand on his own two feet. I dare say he is with Elton, or one of his other disreputable friends, getting further into debt. Goodness knows what it cost him to persuade that man from the Albion to carry out his dirty work for him.’ Papa sighed heavily. ‘There really is nothing more I can or will do for him.’

  ‘You will stay, Dorset?’ Brin asked.

  ‘For the night, yes, if it’s no inconvenience. Then tomorrow I will take Farrah back to Hampshire.’

  ‘It’s your decision, sir, but I would advise against it. Until your son can be found and made to understand that the game is up she will not be safe. And since Miss Dorset is here in Devon, it’s reasonable to assume that Oscar is somewhere close by.’

  ‘He will be at…’

  The men spoke over her, not seeming to think that she would have anything worthwhile to contribute. Their arbitrary actions irritated her and so she did not attempt for a second time to tell them where she thought Oscar must be hiding. Besides, if Papa confronted him, sparks would fly. They could never be in the same room together for long without raising their voices. A plan started forming inside her head.

  ‘Shall you dine in your room this evening, Miss Dorset?’ Brin asked, finally appearing to recall that she was there. ‘You are still recovering from your shock and ought not to overexert yourself.’

  Much as she would like to avoid the censure of the other ladies, she refused to hide away and increase their communal conviction that she was indeed the guilty party in respect of the attack upon Lady Melody.

  ‘Thank you, but I shall come down and keep Papa company. He does not know anyone here. Besides, he and I have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘Very well.’ Brin sent her an intimate smile that, infuriatingly, ate into her annoyance with him. He had no business being quite so handsome, so formidable, so easily able to make her heart lurch. ‘I will have a room prepared for you, sir, in the same wing of the house as your daughter.’

  ‘I am obliged to you, your grace,’ Papa said as Brin stood to ring the bell and give instructions to that effect.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Farrah said, waving the gentlemen back to their seats when she stood. ‘Time is getting on. I must go and change.’

  She made her way back to her room, scheming as she went. She would have told the gentlemen, if they’d bothered to listen, that Elton’s family had a large estate here in Devon, not far from Exeter itself. She had forgotten all about it, since Elton and his circumstances were of absolutely no interest to her. Now that she knew Oscar was behind the attacks upon her, she assumed they’d been carried out with Elton’s connivance, and that the two of them would be holed up in his family’s home.

  All she had to do now was to discover its location, then she would pay them a social call. It should be safe enough in broad daylight. After all, they’d gone out of their way to keep well away from Wentworth Abbey. If she made it clear to them that their devious plot had been uncovered and that if anything were to happen to her then they would be the prime suspects, surely their survival instincts would kick in? They were desperate and reckless, but not stupid. She could talk them round, she knew she could, but if the gentlemen became involved then the situation would quickly get out of hand. Oscar was hot-headed, he now had reason to hate their father and there was no telling what he might do when riled if he knew his plans to inherit Farrah’s money had been thwarted.

  She got back to her room and rang for Susan. When the maid answered her, she asked for hot water and for her green muslin gown to be laid out. While Susan was away fetching the water, Farrah received a visit from Hazel, the last person she had any interest in seeing.

  ‘Ah, there you are, dearest. I tried to find you when we got back from the shops but was told you were sleeping and could not be disturbed.’ Hazel made it sound like an accusation. ‘Are you unwell?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Well then, in that case, I have come to apologise for being mean to you last night and to tell you that you were right all along.’ She sniffed dramatically and Farrah noticed that her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. ‘I have been most horribly deceived by Mr Anglesey’s intentions.’

  Farrah suppressed a sigh when Hazel settled on the window seat, clearly intent upon pouring out her woes and expecting a sympathetic ear. ‘He sent me a note that a maid slipped to me and I met him in the cloisters this afternoon. I did not mince my words, Farrah. You would have been proud of me. I demanded to know why he had made such a dreadful fuss over Lady Melody. He tried to tell me it was all a ploy to distract attention away from our true intentions. I told him that wouldn’t serve since if we were to change Mama’s mind, she needed to see just how devoted we actually are to one another.’ She emitted a strangled sob. ‘I was very clever and told him that I forgave him. Then I asked him if we were well enough situated to marry at once, given that I would have to forego my dowry if I defied Mama.’ Tears trickled down her face. ‘I wanted to prove that you were wrong about him; that he really did love me for myself, but alas, I cannot. I have never seen anyone’s face drain of colour before. He looked totally astounded and started mumbling excuses. I didn’t want to hear them. I told him I didn’t ever want to see him again and now my heart is broken.’

  She rested her head in Farrah’s lap and sobbed.

  ‘Better to find out now than after the event,’ Farrah said briskly, in no mood to express sympathy.

  ‘What shall I do? It’s too late to follow Mama’s advice and be nice to the duke. I don’t think he likes me very much anyway. He likes you though, Farrah.’ Hazel’s sullen expression gave way to a tentative smile. ‘Perhaps you could help me to make up lost ground with him. If I cannot have my heart’s desire then I might as well please Mama by marrying as high as possible. She and Lady Kirkham are so competitive, and Mama is furious because Lady Kirkham is exploiting her daughter’s injury in order to invoke the duke’s sympathy.’

  Farrah had no time to dwell upon Hazel’s self-centred laments.

  ‘Just be yourself and you won’t be able to help attracting a dozen well-born suitors.’

  Hazel preened at the compliment. ‘You are so good and kind,’ she said.

  Thankfully, Susan reappeared at that point and Hazel took herself off, sniffing into her handkerchief in a rather affected manner.

  ‘I’m to tell you that your father is in the room just next door, miss,’ she said as she fussed with hot water and then turned her attention to finding the right petticoats to accompany Farrah’s gown.

  Distracted, Farrah said little in response to Susan’s chatter, racking her brains as she tried to recall the location of Elton’s estate. It was close to a village with an odd name, that much she did remember. Dun something. She recalled Elton boasting about his family home. He had told her that it was spectacular and that the name of the closest village was deceiving since there was nothing remotely dun-territory-like about his family’s circumstances.

  Oh, what was it? Frustrated, she screwed up her eyes and tried to think about something else, hoping that it would come back to her if she didn’t try to force the recollection.

  ‘That’s it!’ she cried out when inspiration struck, causing Susan to jump and for the hairbrush to fall from her hand. ‘Sorry,’ she added, in response to Susan’s startled look. ‘I’ve been trying to recall a name that had slipped my mind and it just came back to me.’

  ‘My cousin Martha says you have to close your eyes, pinch your nose and hold your breath, then you remember.’

  Or die from suffocation, Farrah thought, endlessly amused by the litany of old wives’ tales that Susan came up with, courtesy of her cousin Martha.

  Dunchideock. That was the name of the village
and she seemed to recall Elton telling her it was less than five miles south-west Exeter. Since the duke’s estate was on the south-west edge of the town, the distance would be even less.

  A plan formed in her mind.

  As soon as she was dressed, she slipped next door and tapped at her father’s door.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear.’

  Dressed in pristine evening attire, it occurred to Farrah that her father was actually still a very handsome man.

  ‘You will put the other gentlemen to shame, Papa,’ she said, squeezing his arm.

  ‘Even your handsome duke?’

  Farrah’s cheeks warmed. ‘He isn’t mine. In fact, I have caused him nothing but problems. But you…well, I can see that I shall have to protect you from the ladies’ machinations.’

  ‘I have never told you before how proud I am of you, my dear,’ he said, standing back and looking at her in her green gown. ‘Oscar is a grave disappointment, but you…well, you more than compensate for his many shortcomings. My only wish is that your mother could be here to see you as you are now.’

  ‘Do you miss her very much, Papa?’

  ‘Every single day, my love.’ He sighed. ‘Every single day.’

  ‘Is that why you never remarried?’

  ‘I suppose it is. I never found anyone who measured up to her goodness and common sense. And now…well, who’d have me now?’

  ‘Any lady with the sense she was born with.’

  ‘Perhaps, but they would have an eye to my fortune, not an old fossil like me.’

  ‘Why did you not tell me about Oscar? Warn me? If I had even half-liked Mr Elton, I might well have let Oscar persuade me into the match. I always did try to please Oscar, although I never could. I suppose I sensed his dislike, even if I didn’t recognise it for what it was or understand why he resented me so much.’

  ‘I should have told you, I can quite see that now, but I suppose I held out in the hope that Oscar would mend his ways and you need never know about the foibles of a brother you had always looked up to.’ Papa sighed. ‘I had no idea that Elton’s influence would make him quite as dissolute as he has become.’

  ‘Is there no hope for him?’

  Papa’s expression hardened. ‘He tried to kill you, yet you make excuses for him?’ Her father turned away, clearly overcome with emotion. ‘If he had succeeded in taking you away from me, I don’t know what I would have done.’

  ‘No, you’re right, of course. There is no way back for Oscar.’ Farrah’s moment of despair was replaced by a sunny smile. ‘Now, come along, Papa. For the first time since arriving here, I am looking forward to going down so that I can show you off. I shall not even mind if the duchess frowns at me.’

  ‘It seems unfair that you are being vilified for saving Lady Melody from serious injury.’

  Farrah shrugged. ‘We can hardly tell the absolute truth. The duke has explained to his mother that there was an intruder but she doesn’t want to believe it. She much prefers to look upon me as the villain.’

  ‘Rise above it, my dear. You are a better person than all of them, and stronger too.’

  Father and daughter made their way down the stairs together. A hiatus in the various conversations had every head turning in their direction when they stood side by side in the open doorway to the drawing room. The duchess obviously knew that they had an unexpected guest, but she had not been introduced to Papa. She joined them first and Farrah did the honours.

  ‘Welcome to my house, Mr Dorset,’ she said, with more sincerity than she had troubled to employ in any of her brief exchanges with Farrah. It seemed that even she wasn’t immune to her father’s charm.

  Farrah sensed the duke’s gaze resting on her from across the room. She lifted her head and smiled at him, but quickly looked away again. Papa was now surrounded by Hazel’s mama and by Lady Kirkham. Astonishingly, they were going out of their way to outdo one another in their efforts to impress him. They were both widows, and Lady Kirkham was not well situated financially, but Papa’s fortune had been amassed through trade, and surely that would make him vulgar in their eyes? It was why Farrah had been looked down upon in this elite gathering. But the same rules of conduct didn’t appear to apply to Papa. They saw him as a charming and wealthy widower. Farrah moved away and left them to it, the hypocrisy of the women’s behaviour making her nauseous.

  When dinner was announced, the duchess pulled rank, swept Lady Kirkham and Hazel’s mother aside, and decreed that she would have Papa conduct her to table. Farrah’s mouth fell open and she stood rooted to the spot watching them go.

  ‘Don’t you dare say what you’re thinking,’ the duke said in her ear, gliding up to her side and offering her his arm. She knew that she shouldn’t accept it and cause eyebrows to be raised, but she was so shocked by the duchess’s double standards that she placed her hand on it without thinking.

  ‘I could hope for a more enthusiastic acceptance,’ he said, chuckling.

  Farrah bit her lip. ‘Sorry. I am sure we should not be going in together, but I suppose that if you’re willing to risk the gossip it will make little difference to me. I am accustomed to being gossiped about.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, as he held her chair for her.

  Farrah absorbed the various scowls directed her way by most of the other ladies with an air of complete indifference. ‘If you refer to the bang on the head, then my headache is entirely gone. But the revelations about my brother’s avid dislike of me have caused the head in question to spin for very different reasons.’ She sighed. ‘I had absolutely no idea that Oscar resented me quite so comprehensively.’

  ‘Sibling rivalry can be brutal.’

  ‘Rivalry is one thing, yet it is a long way from sororicide.’ She shuddered. ‘However, let’s not talk about that.’

  ‘Certainly we shall not.’ He smiled at her, that lazy intimate smile she hadn’t seen him direct towards anyone else. It made her insides melt and a warm glow suffused her entire body. ‘I am glad your father is here. It will make things a great deal easier for you.’ He nodded towards his mother and her father, who had their heads together, laughing about something. ‘And will give you less reason to run away.’

  She felt a pang of guilt when she considered what she planned to do in the morning. But then she reminded herself that she would be doing it for his sake, to keep him safe, and her guilty conscience eased. Someone had to be the voice of reason, and when gentlemen confronted one another, aggression and territorial urges drove out all vestiges of common sense. In other words, the male of the species enjoyed physical violence as a means of settling disputes. Farrah was convinced that she could make Oscar and Elton give up their desperate plan to kill her through the use of logic and reasoning, but Brin would never agree to let her attempt it.

  The meal passed quickly. Brin went out of his way to entertain her, but she knew she must seem distracted to the point of impoliteness.

  ‘You are still suffering the effects of your ordeal,’ he said quietly when he stood to help her from her chair at the end of the meal. ‘Retire immediately and get some rest. I will make your excuses.’

  ‘You are right,’ she replied, seizing the opportunity to get away. ‘The events of the day have caught up with me.’ She bobbed a curtsey. ‘Good night, your grace, and thank you for…well, for everything.’

  Farrah returned to her room, rang for Susan and ten minutes later was tucked between warm sheets, tired but with a mind too full for sleep to come easily.

  She woke just as dawn was breaking and slipped out of bed. Peering out of the window, she could see that at least the elements had not conspired against her. There was no sign of rain, which would have made it very difficult to carry out her plan. A brisk wind played havoc with tree branches that were almost bare, bending the spindly ones back on themselves.

  Her riding habit was a favoured garment that she was able to get into without help. She washed in the previous night’s cold water and donned her warmest und
ergarments before slipping into the velvet habit. She brushed out her hair, wincing when the brush tugged at the spot where she had been struck, and tied her rebellious locks back with a ribbon. She set the plumed hat that matched her habit onto her head and secured it in place with a pin. Her half boots and warm gloves completed her attire.

  She slipped from her room, not thinking about what she was planning to do for fear of losing courage. The house was deadly silent, but she found the side door that led to the stables unlocked and slipped through it. The stable yard, in contrast to the house, was full of activity. The head groom saw her approach and doffed his cap.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said with confidence. ‘The duke mentioned that you have a steady mare that I might exercise if I feel the need, which I do.’

  The groom nodded, made no comment about this fine lady getting up before cockcrow and wanting to ride out alone. He snapped his fingers and the pretty mare, complete with sidesaddle, was produced in record time.

  ‘What is her name?’ Farrah asked, as she stood on the mounting block and slipped nimbly into the saddle.

  ‘Sapphire, miss.’

  ‘Well, it suits her,’ Farrah replied, patting the mare’s neck as she adjusted the stirrup and her position in the saddle. ‘I have a mind to explore Dunchideock. A friend told me it is very pretty.’ The groom looked surprised and Farrah inwardly cursed her tendency to embellish whenever she told an untruth. ‘Is it far? How do I get there?’

  The groom told her it was less than four miles and indicated the best path to take.

  ‘You won’t be able to miss it if you follow my directions,’ he told her. ‘Not that there’s much to see,’ he added, removing his cap and scratching his head as he watched her ride away.