June Calvin (20 page)

“I’ve fast cattle posted along the Great North Road,” Alexander said. “Or rather, my brother and father have. They keep their own horses
en route
from home as they traverse it so often. I can commandeer them in an emergency.”

“I’ll have no problem catching them, that is if they are making straight for Gretna. Still . . .” The duke nodded. “I may need a second, anyway. If he’s harmed her . . .”

“I claim the first challenge. I warned Fort if he harmed Sarah I’d have his guts for garters.”

“Then you had some inkling . . .”

“I was concerned he might try something like an elopement, but he told me he was falling in love with her, and wouldn’t wish to do her a wrong. I thought he meant it. And it’s possible he might have. In fairness to Fort, never having known a father’s love, or any sort of decent family life, he didn’t grasp the pain estrangement from family could mean to someone like Sarah. If he was convinced she loved him, he would feel quite justified . . .”

“He obviously thinks I’ll rescue him from the duns once they are wed,” the duke growled. The two men were charging down the steps as they spoke. “But unless Sarah truly loves him, which I doubt, I’ll make her a widow before I’ll let her stay married to a villain like that.”

“Not if I beat you to it, sir.” Alexander’s grim expression told the duke he was in deadly earnest. “My horse is waiting. I was on the way to my ship, which sails at the next high tide.”

Side by side the two men rode with single-minded purpose. They had no difficulty tracking Sarah and Henry. The matched greys and maroon curricle were notable enough, but their cargo of a grim-faced young man and a beautiful, tearstained blond maiden made them even more memorable to the turnpike gatekeepers.

Expecting a long, hard chase, the duke and Alexander were astonished when, at the third stage, they were told that the couple had not appeared. Backtracking, they found a nearby coaching inn where they were informed that the couple they sought had engaged a private parlor shortly before.

The duke burst into the parlor with Alexander hard on his heels. Sarah and Henry had been standing at the window, looking out into a kitchen garden. When she saw the duke, Sarah sprang from Henry’s side and launched herself into her father’s arms.

“Oh, Papa, Papa. He forced me. Henry forced me!”

Chapter 21

The shaft of pain Sarah’s tearful wail sent through the duke almost destroyed him. His precious daughter, ruined by this vicious scoundrel!

“I’ll kill you! You’ll marry her in the morning, and by afternoon you shall meet me,” the duke snarled over Sarah’s shoulder as he crushed her to him.

“He’s mine first!” Alexander charged past the pair and straight at Henry, who didn’t defend himself from the hard right fist that crashed into his face.

The blow dropped the dark-haired young man to the floor. Dazed, he raised a shaking hand to wipe away blood from his nose. It was then that Alexander and the duke noticed that Henry’s visage bore evidence of more blows than the one just landed. Both eyes were purple, and his lip was badly split.

To their astonishment, Sarah tore herself from her father’s arms and thrust between Alexander and his victim.

“Oh, poor Henry. Don’t get up. I shan’t let him hit you again.” She rounded on Alexander. “Don’t you dare. Can’t you see how much he has suffered already?”

“All I can see is how much he deserves to suffer for what he has done to you.” Alexander startled everyone, including himself, by jerking Sarah into his arms. “My precious love. I won’t let you stain your name by uniting it with his. I shall marry you! That way, whoever wins, you’ll have the name of an honorable man.”

Sarah tilted her head up, joy coursing through her. “You . . . you care for me, Alexander?”

“I adore you. You are my one and only love!” Alexander dipped his head and kissed her fervently until the duke, recovering from his astonishment, clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good lad. And if the worst happens, never fear, Sarah. I shall avenge your husband as well as yourself.”

Sarah felt torn. In Lord Alexander’s arms was where she had so often dreamed of being. But Henry was struggling to his feet with great difficulty, and both men looked as if they’d prefer to murder him on the spot.

“No, you shan’t, either of you! He doesn’t deserve such a terrible fate. He’s been punished enough. And he knew he was wrong. He had already agreed to take me home. We were resting the horses when you came in. With any luck at all we can be back in London before teatime, and no one the wiser.”

“Sarah!” The duke’s anger warred with astonishment. “You can’t treat ravishment as if it were a harmless prank.”

“Shock has affected her thinking, sir.” Alexander stepped around her, drawing his glove off to slap Henry in the face. But Sarah caught the length of soft leather in her hand and jerked it away.

“No, no, no! You’ve misunderstood, both of you.”

Her father and Alexander stared expectantly.

Beet red with embarrassment, Sarah cast her eyes anywhere but where they would meet the blue or grey ones trained so intently upon her. “I didn’t mean . . . he didn’t ravish me. He just abducted me. I didn’t want to come with him, but it took me quite awhile to convince him that I didn’t love him, and never could.”

Three men exhaled as one. “Precious child,” the duke murmured, drawing the blond head against his chest as he cradled Sarah in his arms. “Thank God!”

Alexander glared at Henry, still angry. “You gave me your word . . .”

“I can explain.” Fort touched a careful finger to his battered eye. “My creditors paid me a call last night. They had gotten together and compared notes. They realized my debts exceeded even my father’s plump pockets. The only way I escaped was to convince them I was about to marry an heiress.”

Fort looked sadly at Sarah. “I had convinced myself she loved me, or soon would. Since you announced you were going to India, Alex, she had been most encouraging. I suppose I couldn’t believe that any woman could long resist me. I felt under the circumstances I was justified in taking drastic action. I felt, too, sir, that you would forgive me and help me once you saw what a good husband I meant to be to Sarah.”

“He also thinks he can win the derby this year with Demon, you see,” Sarah interjected. “If he does, he can come about.”

“It is a villainous proceeding, young man, and you know it.” The duke shook a fist in Henry’s face.

“Yes, sir.” Henry hung his head. “I realize that now, sir. Alex tried to tell me how it would be, but I didn’t understand until I saw how distraught Sarah was over your feelings and over how the scandal might affect your chances of marrying Lady Cornwall . . .”

“It was partly my fault, Papa.”

“Nonsense, Sal.”

“But it was. You see, I didn’t want to admit to anyone, not even myself, how hurt I was when Alexander dropped me. I let Fort think I was enamored of him. I really tried to believe it myself. But the minute he took off with me, I knew I had been deceiving us both. If I’d behaved as I should have, if I hadn’t let pride get in the way of honesty, he never would have done such a thing.”

“I think I need to sit down.”

The duke led his daughter to a sofa and dropped down, holding her hand as if he’d never let it go. “I’m too old to go racketing around the countryside like this, Daughter.”

The two young men took chairs. Henry tentatively, Alex dropping down with much the same exhausted relief as the duke. For long moments they sat silently contemplating each other and the events of the morning.

It was Meade who stirred first. “Sir, if it is true that you no longer object to my courting Sarah . . .”

“I think after that display of a few moments ago, I must insist upon it.” Harwood’s smile was genuine. “Besides, any man who announces his intention of marrying a woman he thinks has been ruined is truly in love. If my daughter returns your affection, I would be honored to have you for a son-in-law.”

“You know I do, Papa.”

Harwood looked down at her pretty, round face. He stroked a long finger caressingly down her pert nose. “Even so, I want you two to take some time to get to know one another really well before finally committing yourselves, for marriage is a permanent connection that can lead to great misery with the wrong person.”

“Yes, Papa!”

“I agree, sir.”

“Oh, poor Henry.” Sarah pulled away from her father’s encircling arm. “What will you do? Those dreadful men will kill you if you return to London not having married an heiress.”

“I’ve been thinking. Alex, you won’t be needing that ticket to India now . . .”

“Most definitely not!”

“Perhaps you would trade it for my greys. It is time I learned to do something honest with my life.”

“What about Demon?”

Henry sighed. “He’s capable of winning the derby, but I’m sure the duns would have him away from me to settle part of my debts long before I could see him through the race.”

“Perhaps I could purchase him from you?” The duke smiled. “I’ve always fancied owning a derby winner. And you’ll need some cash to get you started in the business world.”

The three men stood and began shaking hands. Sarah watched them fondly, particularly Alexander.
Would Father think six months a long enough time to get to know one another?
she wondered.
For I am sure I know, right now.

***

Once Sarah and Alexander had departed for London in Henry’s curricle, and a post chaise had been engaged to convey Fort in privacy to Alexander’s ship, Harwood mounted and rode slowly, contemplatively, back to London.
Sarah’s second season just may turn out well for her, after all
, he thought. Alexander Meade looked to be just the sort of young man he had wished for as a husband for Sarah.

His thoughts then turned to Jennifer and Deborah.
All will be well with Jennifer and John, too, even if I have to intervene on their behalf.

But for himself the duke was not so sanguine. Deborah had asked for his help, showing that she trusted him with her friendship and would turn to him for assistance. But the way she had jerked away from him this morning still stung. She was no nearer feeling any of the softer emotions for him, and probably never would.

Not for the first time Harwood regretted that the dead could not be called to account by the living. He was not by nature a violent man, but he would like nothing better than to have pummeled Seymour Silverton to a bloody pulp.

These profitless musings occupied him until he made his way wearily up the steps of the ducal mansion just before sunset. Here he found a lively game going on in the foyer. Alexander, Sarah, Jennifer, and John were rolling a hard ball that looked suspiciously like one of his pool balls. Mittens, her toenails clicking on the tile as she barked ecstatically, was chasing it while her human friends cheered her on.

“All done in by your distressing day, I see,” Harwood greeted his daughter as she ran to hug him.

“I feel wonderful. Better than I have in months!” Sarah seemed literally to glow as she beamed up at him. “I am determined to accompany Jennifer to the Bentons’ ball tonight, in case anyone might have seen Henry and me driving out of town today.”

“That might be best to keep gossip at a minimum,” the duke agreed.

“John and Alexander are planning to escort us.”

“I expect I must attend, too,” the duke sighed, “though I should like nothing so much as to sit before my own fire with a brandy. But tell me, Jennifer, what I already think I can see in your sparkling countenance. Was your mother successful in her bid to talk your uncle around?”

Jenny nodded her head eagerly. “She said it was partly because you had done such a good job of convincing him it would be better to be with you than against you.”

“Ah!” The duke rocked back on his heels, satisfied. “Then those tiresome two weeks of taking him about were worth it. Where is your mother? Does she go with us tonight?”

Jennifer frowned. “I’m not sure. She was extremely upset when she heard about Sarah, and particularly when she learned you had taken dueling pistols. She began to cry and then raced from the room. I think she must have gone home, for I haven’t seen her since.”

“Hmmm. Should I see this as a hopeful sign, do you think?”

Jennifer shook her head. “I wish I could say yes, sir, but I doubt it. She cares for you in her own way, but I fear my mother will never be able to love as she ought.”

The duke patted Jennifer’s cheek. “I fear you are right, my child. Well, I must go and change for dinner.” Slowly, feeling every one of his forty years twice over, the duke climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

“I must bathe,” he told his valet. “I am covered with dust from the road.”

Boynton had a peculiar look upon his face. “I tried to get her to wait elsewhere, Your Grace, but she insisted.”

“What are you talking about, man?” Irritably, the duke peeled off his cravat.

His valet cast a significant look toward the duke’s bedroom door, which was closed. That in itself was unusual, as the door was normally open unless Harwood had retired for the night. Mystified, he thrust it aside and strode across the room to examine the long, curving mound on his bed. It was a woman’s body, curled in a fetal position, facing the center of the bed. Honey gold curls spilled across the pillows.

Joy and a melting tenderness almost undid the duke.
Are those tear tracks on her cheeks?
he wondered.
For me?

“Deborah! Dee!” Whispering, he eased himself onto the bed to sit beside the sleeping woman. “Whatever are you doing here, my love?”

Slowly Deborah came awake. As soon as awareness returned, she sat up abruptly. “You’re here! Are you injured? Are you all right?”

To the duke’s intense pleasure, Deborah threw her arms around his neck. “I’ve been so worried. I was terrified that young monster would do you an injury. Your valet told me you are a famous shot, but I made sure in that case he would choose swords.”

“But I am also a famous swordsman, love.” The duke moved so that his back was braced against the headboard, and pulled Deborah across his lap.

“Oh! But still . . . you’re unhurt then?”

“There was no duel. Thanks to Sarah’s peacemaking, Fortesque is on his way to India, and Alexander Meade is below, courting my radiant daughter.”

“Oh, thank God,” Deborah breathed fervently.

“I hear you had success, too.”

“Yes! I was amazed at how quickly Vincent retreated after reading the list of Seymour’s misdeeds. He stopped blustering, heard me out, and then had the nerve to act as if John were his very own choice for Jennifer!”

“I am very pleased. Your daughter is delightful, but I confess I am tired of dancing attendance on her when my heart is elsewhere.”

A tiny frown angled Deborah’s eyebrows downward.

“You very nearly had me convinced you were about to offer for her.”

The duke chuckled and kissed her palm. “It was a ruse, my sweet. I was hoping to make you jealous.”

“Well, you succeeded,” she snapped.

He grinned as he lightly abraded her palm with his stubbled cheek. “I really should shave first, but I can’t wait,” he murmured before lowering his head for a kiss.

Deborah received his kiss passively at first, then tensed. He lifted his head. Obviously, the battle for her trust was not entirely won. He began gently stroking her, smoothing her hair, tracing her ear, cupping her chin in his hand, then repeating the process until she had relaxed again. He traced her lips, top and bottom with a gentle finger, over and over until they parted. When he kissed her again, instead of tensing, she relaxed against him, and even returned the pressure of his mouth with her own.

“Ah, Dee. How I’ve dreamed of this moment. But as late as this morning I despaired of it ever coming true. What has happened, my love? Though I suppose I shouldn’t ask, just thank my lucky stars.”

Deborah laid her head against his shoulder, tilting it so she could look into his eyes. “I despaired, too, when I learned you’d taken your dueling pistols. This day has been one hundred years long, Justin, and in every one of those years I’ve died over and over, when I thought of losing you. I realized how precious you’d become to me.

“But, oh! Justin. I don’t know if I can ever give you what you want . . . what every man wants. I know you won’t hurt me as Seymour did, but still, I find that . . . that act so disgusting . . .”

Harwood kissed the top of her head. “Did you find my kiss disgusting just then?”