The Dark Duke Page 20

  “Elliot was very much admired,” she continued. “Such high spirits! The fatigues of dancing are nothing to him. He is so like myself when I was young.”

  Hester realized she was very glad she had not known the duchess in her youth.

  “Nevertheless, such entertainments should be done sparingly. It upsets the servants. Look how Jenkins locked that door this morning!”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Hester murmured, wishing she dared to say something to the duchess about her son’s behavior.

  But she didn’t, because she doubted the duchess would believe her, and this conflict would be better resolved without her interference.

  At least, Hester thought that was the best thing to do, once more anxious to speak with Adrian about Elliot’s ultimatum. What was she going to do if Adrian did not return home tonight?

  “Ah, here is the dear boy now!” the duchess declared as Elliot entered the room. “You were much admired last night!” she repeated.

  Elliot smiled at his mother, and Hester fought to keep her face expressionless as she sewed, but she felt his gaze as if it were a poisonous cloud descending upon her. “Not everyone admires me, Mama,” he said, sitting beside his mother.

  “Well, if they don’t, they are simpletons!” the duchess cried in his defense.

  “I don’t believe Lady Hester would concur,” he

  noted.

  Before the duchess could speak, Hester raised her eyes and addressed the older woman with a slight smile. “Your son is a very fine-looking man, and dances very well.”

  “There, Elliot!” the duchess said triumphantly. “Even Lady Hester admires you.”

  “Oh, Mama,” Lord Elliot said with a light laugh, “I fear that remains to be seen.”

  Hester suddenly rose. She simply could not bear to be in the same room as this man. “If you will pardon me, Your Grace,” she said. “I fear I am not used to such late hours. I believe I should rest in my room.”

  “Very well, Hester,” the duchess said, gracious in her good humor.

  Elliot stood as Hester gathered her sewing. “Yes, indeed,” he agreed with a sly smile she wished she did not see. “We wouldn’t want dear Lady Hester to be too tired.”

  Hester knew then that she had better decide upon a course of action that did not depend upon Adrian’s return.

  “Why are we going here?” Elizabeth asked in a puzzled whisper as Adrian led her up the front walk to John Mapleton’s house.

  Patients usually used the door nearest the surgeon’s office; however, there was a sign for the surgery there, and Adrian didn’t want Elizabeth to see it. Besides, the people in the tavern would already be gossiping about the duke and the unknown woman, so he might as well use the main entrance.

  “You said you were going to buy me a new dress,” Elizabeth said.

  She looked even worse now, despite the meal Adrian had bought her, which she had consumed with much cajoling on his part. He hoped that Mapleton would tell him that rest and food would set her right, yet he could not help feeling that death had already set its mark on Elizabeth. “I will. I thought we should come here first. This is the home of a very dear friend of Elliot’s. I’m sure he would be offended if he didn’t get to meet you right away. You can wash and freshen up a bit before we go to the shops. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  “I want to go to Elliot,” Elizabeth said, halting abruptly. “I’m so close to him. I can feel him. I know he needs me.”

  “Don’t you want to look beautiful for him? You can wash, and fix your hair, and while you’re doing that, I’ll fetch a carriage to take us to the shops and then out to Barroughby Hall.”

  She still didn’t look quite convinced, but she let him lead her to Mapleton’s door.

  When Nancy answered Adrian’s knock, she gave him a puzzled look. “Mr. Mapleton is with a patient, Your Grace,” the young woman said, running a disapproving eye over Elizabeth’s gaunt cheeks, muddy skirts and disheveled bonnet. Another person with an interesting tale of the Dark Duke to tell, Adrian thought with some dismay.

  Did Hester really understand the nature of gossip? He had to hope she did, or stories of today’s events might come as a forceful lesson.

  “What are you talking about?” Elizabeth demanded agitatedly. “I am not sick”.

  “We are here to see John Mapleton as a friend, not as a medical man” Adrian lied. “He is a very old acquaintance of Elliot’s, and mine.”

  He faced Nancy again. “Tell Mr. Mapleton the Duke of Barroughby is here. My companion and I will wait in his study.”

  The maid dipped a curtsy, and hurried off toward the back of the building where Mapleton’s office was located.

  “Come, Elizabeth,” Adrian said, leading her into the mahogany-paneled room. He hoped Mapleton wouldn’t be long; he begrudged every minute that kept him from Hester now, and yet he couldn’t abandon Elizabeth. Not like Elliot.

  After a few moments which seemed considerably longer, Mapleton bustled into the room. “Your Grace, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, I must say,” he remarked, acknowledging Adrian with a brief nod while his attention focused on Elizabeth. Apparently Nancy had forewarned him about the duke’s companion.

  “John Mapleton, may I present Miss Howell, who is a good friend of Elliot’s,” Adrian said. “I thought you would like to meet her.”

  “Oh, indeed, I do. How are you, Miss Howell?” The surgeon bowed and took her hand, and an expression of concern crossed his friendly face.

  “I am very well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied.” But the duke is mistaken. I am not Miss Howell. I am Lady Elliot”.

  “You are Elliot’s wife?” Adrian asked, trying not to sound skeptical.

  “Oh, yes. We had to keep it a secret, because his mama might not approve. She will change her mind when she meets me, I’m sure.”

  Mapleton gave Adrian a significant look, to which Adrian could only surreptitiously shrug his shoulders. Elizabeth had said no word of this before, but she had been in labor by the time Adrian had found her and in no condition to give details of her relationship with Elliot. That she was not legally his wife, Adrian didn’t doubt, yet it would not be out of character for Elliot to stage a fraudulent marriage, if that was the only way he could seduce a reluctant young woman.

  “That’s why you’re helping me again, isn’t it, Your Grace? Because you know she’ll like me. Elliot is so anxious to see me again, too. He wrote me that he was.”

  “He wrote to you?” Adrian inquired gently.

  “Oh, yes. I have the letters in my reticule.” She smiled brightly. “You may look at them if you wish. Show them to your friend, because I can see he doesn’t believe me.”

  Mapleton flushed guiltily as Adrian picked up Elizabeth’s reticule and wondered what new game Elliot was playing at. Inside, he found several pieces of paper.

  Some were bills and the rest were promissory notes to Elizabeth Howell for small sums of money, each one signed with Elliot’s flowing hand. “You see how much he loves me?”

  “Yes, I see,” Adrian said wearily.

  “Perhaps this young lady would care for some rest and refreshment before she continues to Barroughby Hall?” Mapleton asked. He gave Adrian another meaningful look.

  “We are about to get Elizabeth a more suitable dress,” Adrian said. “However, a little wine would be delightful.”

  “To toast the bride and groom,” Mapleton said. I’ll have the maid fetch it.” He pulled the bell rope to summon Nancy, at the same time subtly motioning Adrian to move closer to him and away from Elizabeth. “Make sure she drinks what I send in,” he whispered. “I must see to another patient, but I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  He went out of the room as Elizabeth began to replace all the papers into her reticule with loving and horrible care. “He loves me,” she whispered as each and every piece was folded, until Adrian thought he might go mad, too.

  Nancy came as Elizabeth finished her task. She carried a tray with a glass of what looke
d like red wine. “Oh, dear, I’ve forgotten a glass for you, Your Grace,” she said with a suitably concerned demeanor. Then she winked at him so obviously, Adrian was afraid Elizabeth might notice. Fortunately, she was still fussing with her reticule.

  “Here you are, Elizabeth,” Adrian said, handing the glass to her after she had closed her bag. “You have a drink while the maid fetches mine. To keep your strength up.”

  “The toast—”

  “We shall all have a toast when Mr. Mapleton returns.”

  Apparently persuaded, Elizabeth took the glass and drank, then uttered a horrified cry and dashed the glass to the ground, shattering the bowl. “It doesn’t taste right!” she cried, leaping to her feet and swiping at her lips. “It’s a trick!” she shouted. She picked up the broken base of the wineglass and pointed the jagged edge of the stem at Adrian. “You’re not helping me! You’re helping her!”

  Nancy gasped from the doorway and the glass she held in her hand slipped to the floor. “Fetch John!” Adrian ordered.

  Nancy disappeared just as Elizabeth screamed and lunged at Adrian, the broken glass still clutched in her hand like a dagger.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Adrian grabbed Elizabeth’s arm. The sharp edge of the glass passed by his neck with a fraction of an inch to spare.

  “Elizabeth, stop!” he said firmly as she stumbled. He grabbed her arm again, but she twisted fiercely in his grasp. “No! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” she cried, blinking and swaying as she crouched like a cat ready to pounce.

  Then she launched herself at him, and they fell on the floor. She had knocked the wind out of him and he felt a sharp stab of pain in his injured leg, but Adrian was able to get hold of the wrist of the hand holding the broken glass. He squeezed with all his strength until Elizabeth cried out, and the improvised weapon dropped.

  Then, with a sigh, she swooned and would have fallen, had he not already held her. He picked her up and carried her to the couch, laying her down gently.

  “My God, what happened?” Mapleton asked anxiously as he hurried into the room. “I gave her a sedative.”

  “It took a while to work, obviously,” Adrian replied, quite calm now that it was all over. He bent to retrieve the broken wineglass, then gasped at the sharp pain in his groin. He muttered a curse when he saw the torn fabric of his trousers and the growing stain of blood. “She cut me,” he murmured, hard put to believe that he had felt so little. He straightened and staggered, suddenly dizzy.

  Mapleton rushed to his aid. “Sit down, my lord. Here, on this chair,” the surgeon ordered. “Nancy, fetch my bag, then clean up all this glass.” He swiftly and deftly examined the wound through the gaping tear. “Not deep, thank God,” he muttered. He took out his handkerchief and pressed it over the wound. “Close to the other wound, too. A few more inches and it could have been much more serious.”

  “Then I’m glad it wasn’t. What are we going to do about her?” He nodded at Elizabeth.

  “Hold this here, tight, until Nancy brings my bag,” Mapleton said before going to the couch and regarding Elizabeth thoughtfully. “She’s not in her right mind, but 1 cannot say for certain whether it is merely a temporary state, or a more permanent condition.”

  “That’s not all that’s the matter with her, is it?”

  “Sadly, no. She may be consumptive. Whatever her condition is, it is serious.”

  “Is there some place she could go to be cared for? I will pay the necessary expenses.”

  Mapleton looked at Adrian gravely. “Do you know what her relationship to Elliot is? Could they be married?”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  “She said you had helped her before?”

  He nodded slowly. “She was supposed to be staying with her brother, in Manchester.”

  “Away from Elliot?”

  “Yes.”

  Nancy came into the room with the surgeon’s bag and a bowl of clean, hot water. She gave Adrian a dismissive glance, then regarded Elizabeth more sympathetically before she left the room.

  “Your maid seems singularly immune to my charms,” Adrian noted dryly.

  “This does look rather odd,” Mapleton observed. “Off with your trousers. I’ll clean the wound and bandage it. I recommend you stay the night in town.”

  “That is impossible,” Adrian replied. He had spent far too much time in Barroughby today as it was. He had to get home to Hester.

  “This wound could bleed quite profusely if you ride. You lost a lot of blood before. It would be risky for you to lose more now.”

  “What if I ride slowly?”

  “You would do better to stay in town. I have a room here—”

  “Thank you, John, for your offer, but it is quite impossible. However, I would be very grateful if you would keep Elizabeth here, at least until I can make other arrangements for her.”

  “I do not keep an asylum, my lord,” the surgeon said with a frown. “I’m not equipped to handle such a patient.”

  “I don’t want her to be in an asylum,” Adrian replied. “I will write to her family in Manchester. It could be that she’s run away, and they don’t know where she’s gone.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, but it may take some time to hear from them.”

  “Is there no place close by she could stay temporarily?” Adrian asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

  “Here is what I will do, my lord,” Mapleton said slowly. “She looked completely exhausted, and that attack probably took what was left of her strength, so she may sleep for some time. She may stay here until her fever decreases, provided she exhibits no return to hostility.”

  “I’m grateful to you, John,” Adrian replied. “In the meantime, I’ll find someone to take her to her family in Manchester in my private coach. There I shall pay for whatever nursing care is judged necessary.”

  “I know a doctor in Manchester, a good man whose opinion you can trust, both for diagnosis and the cost of her care,” Mapleton offered. “I shall write his address out for you.”

  “Good. Now all that remains is to find someone to travel with her.”

  “I could let Nancy and her husband go with her, if they’re willing. She’s an excellent nurse, and he would be very helpful to carry Miss Howell in and out of the carriage.” The surgeon thought a moment. “She could be sedated for most of the way, I should think.”

  “Then I shall leave Elizabeth in your capable care.” Adrian reached out to take Mapleton’s hand. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  “Think nothing of it, my lord. Now that we’ve taken care of Miss Howell, off with your trousers.”

  Adrian complied, trying to keep the bloody handkerchief in place as much as possible.

  “There is one way you could repay me,” Mapleton said, dipping the cloth into the bowl of water as he prepared to wash the wound.

  “Whatever you like,” Adrian said, removing the handkerchief and sucking in his breath as Mapleton wiped away the blood with the damp cloth.

  The surgeon hesitated and gave Adrian a stern look. “Don’t let Elliot get away with this. And don’t look at me like that. You and I both know that he’s responsible for this poor girl’s state.” Mapleton put the soiled cloth into the water and picked up a clean white bandage. He began to wrap it around Adrian’s leg.

  “I was thinking it might be better for Elliot to be completely unencumbered when I cut him loose.”

  Mapleton frowned. “I’m not completely in favor of that, my lord, but you know him better than I.”

  “Then let me take care of Elizabeth while I force Elliot to fend for himself. She’s better off having nothing whatever to do with him, anyway.”

  “As you wish,” Mapleton agreed as he knotted the bandage.

  “I see I shall have two scars,” Adrian noted. “It’s a pity she didn’t cut the other leg. Then I would have a matched set”

  “This has been a truly astonishing day,” Mapleton remarked. “I will loan you a pa
ir of trousers. No need to cause idle speculation among the townsfolk.”

  Adrian grinned ruefully, thinking he would be a fine spectacle in the surgeon’s trousers. He hoped John would also provide a belt. “There’s probably a lot of idle gossip going on already. Now, if you are finished, I will accept the loan of trousers and leave you to your patients.”

  “I’m finished. But let me warn you again, ride slowly. I have no wish to be summoned to Barroughby Hall in the middle of the night, nor do I wish my trousers stained. Unlike some people, I have only a few pairs.”

  “I’ll go at a most dignified pace,” Adrian replied, although he would have preferred a breakneck gallop and damn the consequences. A slow ride meant he wouldn’t get home until nearly midnight. “Thank you again for helping with Elizabeth.”

  “I hope everything will work out for the best,” Mapleton said sincerely.

  “Since I am going to marry Hester, I think it will.”

  Hester laid her hand on the knob of Elliot’s bedchamber door.

  She would have preferred to confront Elliot with Adrian by her side, but Adrian had not yet returned, although it was nearly midnight. Therefore, she had no recourse but to confront Elliot alone, and to make an ultimatum of her own, one that would ensure that Elliot would not trouble them again.

  The only weapon Elliot had was a threat of scandal, which he had used to manipulate Adrian for years. The duke was a proud man bearing the weight of a promise made to a dying father.

  She had no such baggage, and if Elliot thought he could use a taint of scandal to compel her to dishonor herself when she was more than willing to accept the duke’s alleged history as the price for marrying him, he was about to discover the magnitude of his mistake.

  With a determined expression, she opened the door and slipped inside. A single candle on a table near the window illuminated the vast, luxurious room. She noticed few of the details, for all her attention focused on the man standing at the window, who slowly turned and looked at her with a strange and unforeseen expression.