The Duke Page 16

  She rose to her feet and left the church. Gabriel went after her. She was striding up the drive toward the castle, between the rows of trees with their nearly bare branches. But when she reached the gate she halted.

  Sweeping off her hood, she looked upward.

  He did not follow her gaze. Her face held him rapt. She had a pert nose upon which no powder obscured the plentiful freckles, a chin that was slightly pointed, arched brows, and lashes the length of a man’s fantasies. His fantasies. He had fantasized about her so many times, so acutely, that awaking from the musings he’d often found himself disoriented. When he did so while standing at the helm, he finally made himself halt that imbecility.

  Mostly.

  “What is the significance of this symbol?” she said.

  “’Tis a secret.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “I’m no’ inventing this.” He laughed. “It is a secret.”

  “A secret you will now share with me, Urisk.”

  “Are you familiar with the Order o’ the Rosy Cross?”

  Her brow crinkled. “The Rosy Cross?”

  “The Masons.”

  “There is a Freemasons lodge in Kingston. Some of Kingston’s most influential men are members, but also much less exalted men. So the lairds of Haiknayes belong to a cult?”

  “A brotherhood.”

  “Are you a Mason?”

  “My father an’ brother were. Have I satisfied your questions?”

  “Not yet. And I wish you would not call me lass. I am no longer a girl.”

  “What would you have me call you?”

  “Mrs. Garland.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ll no’ call you by another man’s name.”

  Above her right brow was a tiny scar, years old, barely pink, that he had never seen before. Her cheeks were glowing. He wanted to lay his lips on those pink peaches, one at a time, and taste their dusky heat. And on the little scar.

  “What caused that scar?”

  “A scratch that healed poorly. No one else has ever asked me about it.”

  “I’ve no manners to speak o’.”

  “When you are speaking to me, at least. With your other guests I have noticed you are remarkably gracious.”

  “I want to taste it,” he said.

  “It?”

  “That scar. I want to taste your every imperfection.”

  The glow upon her skin became a thorough flush.

  “You never used to speak this way to me.”

  He smiled. “I was an idiot then.”

  “Do you speak to all women like this? Wait—no—I don’t want to know.”

  “Aye, you do. An’ no, I dinna. Only to you, Amarantha Vale.”

  “You are impertinent,” she said with a twitch of her lips that softened the chastisement.

  “From the mouth o’ the most impertinent woman I have ever known.”

  “I think you are trying to frighten me away.”

  “Does a man’s desire frighten you?”

  She drew a slow breath and visibly set her shoulders back.

  “If it did, men being what they are, I would be cowering in corners daily.”

  “You are wrong,” he murmured, smiling.

  “About the general lustfulness of the male sex?”

  “About yourself. You are still that girl.”

  “I should think I would know that best. Now, do return your attention to this symbol, Urisk. The other parts of it, attached to the Freemasons’ star—What are they?”

  “The flame, the mountain, the wave,” he said, unable to look away from her face.

  “A tongue of fire. A mountain peak. A wave, as of an ocean. They are not diabolical symbols.” The cloverleaves were thoughtful. She had seen a world that most young English noblewomen never did. She had worked with her own hands as no other woman of privilege he had known.

  He wanted to tell her the truth. The entire truth. Not even the villagers near Kallin knew all.

  “Fire, earth, and water,” she said. “They are the ancient elements—three of the four—lacking only air.”

  “I am familiar with the feeling.”

  “You must cease this flirting, Urisk. It is not having the effect you wish.”

  Slowly he drew air into his lungs, but they would not fill. Apparently having his heart trounced five and a half years earlier had done nothing to make him less of a thorough ass.

  “The crossbar on the top point,” he said. “It is the symbol for air.”

  “I see. But what does it mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t understand.” She turned her beautiful eyes to him and for a moment he was without speech.

  “It means nothing now,” he finally said. It was merely a convenient symbol Torquil had chosen to help communicate the secret of safety without words. And somehow it had sufficed.

  “Why haven’t you told anyone the truth about this?”

  “No one has asked.”

  “No one? The Hounds of Hell must be much more effective than they led me to believe.”

  “When a ship’s come into bad luck an’ run through its stores o’ fresh water,” he heard himself saying, “the crew depends upon barrels to capture rain.”

  “A ship?”

  “The officers have first claim on that rainwater.”

  “You have just changed the subject so abruptly even Iris Tate would remark on it.”

  “’Tis their privilege.”

  “I suppose I must play along.” She tilted her head. “As an officer, you never acted on that privilege, did you?”

  “A commander who hordes what his men need to survive has no honor,” he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “But, lass, when he finally takes a cup into his hands an’ tastes that water . . .”

  “I have no idea what you are trying to say to me.”

  “Amarantha Vale—”

  “Garland.”

  “’Tis unconscionably good to see you again.”

  “If you had not barred me from Kallin last autumn, you might have seen me again much sooner.”

  “Aye.”

  “You will not seduce me this time, you know.”

  A slow, one-sided smile curved his lips. “Is that my intention?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps not. Perhaps you simply invited me here from curiosity. Whatever the case, I have not come here for you.”

  “’Tis a disappointment, to be sure.”

  “One, however, that you must accept.”

  “No other woman has ever spoken to me as you do.”

  “They are all probably terrified of your dungeons.”

  “Except you.”

  “Except me.” Real dungeons were not always built of iron and stone.

  “Will you leave,” he said, “now that you know I’ve no answers about your friend?”

  “I promised Libby that I would assist with her project. You won’t throw me out, will you?”

  “Never.”

  “And I have not finished interrogating you.”

  “What more will you ask?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I want to know if the secret you are concealing has anything to do with Penny’s child.”

  “You believe I am the devil, after all?”

  “I will discover why you keep Kallin locked up tighter than a pirate’s treasure chest. And I will learn why, when Glen Village sits on a well-traveled byway, its only residents are women. Not a single man. Isn’t that intriguing?”

  “It might be.”

  “So tell me, Urisk, what exactly are you hiding?”

  Chapter 18

  The Knight

  Amarantha looked up into his face made of stark angles and shadows and wondered how anybody could mistake him for a diabolical doer of evil deeds. He had the most beautiful eyes, full of laughter and heat. She could fall into them, into him.

  After so long, she had not planned for this.

  �
�If I tell you the truth now,” he said, “will you leave?”

  “Yes, if Libby does not need me.”

  “What if I need you?”

  “I have already said that I am not on the table.”

  “Good Lord, lass, you’ve just put an image into my head that’ll fuel my dreams for weeks—months,” he said with the roguish grin she had missed.

  She had missed his smile. She had missed him. Coming here had obviously been a very bad idea.

  “Are you hiding Cassandra Finn and Maggie Poultney at Kallin?”

  “Aye. Locked up tight in the mountains I’ve a castle full o’ females. Now will you go?”

  “You seem eager for me to do so.”

  “I’ve an estate here to put to rights. A trench to mend, a road to rebuild, fields to plow, any number o’ tasks to attend to.”

  “Then you should probably go about doing those tasks.”

  “I should.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “Truth is, I’m having the devil o’ a time remembering you’ve no’ come here to be seduced. My mind’s preoccupied now with how to accomplish it.”

  “I am not seventeen any longer.”

  “Thank the Almighty.”

  “More importantly, I am not the naïve girl I was then.”

  “You’ve said that. Still, ’tis a relief to hear it.”

  “Why? Because this time I shan’t make a cake of myself over you?”

  “Because this time I can be sure that when I ride away now to hire hands to dig out that trench, you’ll no’ be marrying another spineless preacher before I can return.”

  Hoofbeats startled her from astonished paralysis and the dogs bolted toward a rider approaching along the drive.

  “Good day!” Thomas Bellarmine called as he neared. The chill of the morning gave color to his skin. “Mrs. Garland, how glad I am to find you.”

  “Good day, Mr. Bellarmine.” Her voice wobbled. The man beside her apparently thought nothing of teasing her mercilessly now, again. He had no heart.

  Clearing her throat, she went toward the unexpected arrival.

  “Have you been searching for me?” she said.

  “Yesterday I called at Dr. Shaw’s residence.” He dismounted. “When I found the knocker up I called on Miss Campbell. She informed me of your journey.” He looked at the duke. “Your Grace?”

  “Aye.”

  “Thomas Bellarmine, at your service.” He bowed deeply, but was back up in an instant and proffering to her a letter. “Miss Campbell requested that I convey this to you. It is the reason I came. I don’t mean to intrude on your party, Your Grace.”

  “You havena.” His eyes were keen on the other man.

  “Miss Campbell was excessively eager for you to have that letter,” Mr. Bellarmine said to her.

  “I shall read it without delay. Will you return to Leith now?”

  “You’ve had a long ride, Bellarmine,” the duke said. “Come inside an’ take a draught.”

  “I am honored, Your Grace.”

  “See that, lass? He has respect for my consequence. You could take a lesson. Bellarmine, I dinna suppose you’re a preacher?”

  “No, sir. I am in Law. At present, actually, I work for my uncle who is a merchant of tea and other goods. I once finalized a contract for him with your agent in London, Mr. Du Lac. Capital fellow.”

  “Stay the night, Bellarmine. As many nights as you like.” He drew his horse toward the stable block, the dogs rambling after him. “You’ll have to care for your own animal. My groom’s away an’ there’s only Tate’s man to see to the lot.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Your Grace!”

  The duke disappeared inside the stable.

  “He is as unusual as everybody says, isn’t he?” Mr. Bellarmine said, chuckling.

  “I suppose so.” Gabriel Hume was in fact exactly the man she had known: confident, unashamed, and an outrageous flirt. Only the shadows in his eyes were deeper now.

  “I am especially grateful for his hospitality, for it gives me opportunity to spend more time with you.”

  “And your cousins,” she said, stepping away quickly. “For they are here too.”

  “Mrs. Garland, I beg of you, forgive me for my impertinence at the ball. The truth is that you are the finest woman I have the pleasure to be acquainted with. That is to say, I admire you enormously and I do hope we will be friends, as you have befriended my cousins.”

  “Thank you, sir. I should like to be friends.”

  “Capital.” He glanced again toward the stable. “Your other friend will not mind it?”

  “Hm. This prying is a poor start to our friendship, I think.”

  “Do forgive me, madam.” Amusement ruined his contrition.

  “Thank you for bringing this letter. I will leave you to see to your horse.”

  Inside, the hall was deserted. Amarantha went to the hearth in which a great fire crackled, settled into the comfortable sofa before it, and opened Alice’s letter.

  Dear Girl,

  I write with alarming news. Tabitha went out to the market and returned as pale as a specter, then retired to her bedchamber for the night without dinner. This morning she came to breakfast equally ashen, and requested that I accompany her on the walk to school. I insisted that she tell me immediately what had occurred, reminding her that honesty is the only virtue required for residence in this house. But she remained close-lipped. When I said that I would write to you and insist that you return at once she relented, but she would only give me a message for you. Here is the entirety of it: “He is here.” Whoever “he” is, it is clear that she fears him.

  I hope you fare better in the demon’s lair.

  Yours,

  Alice Campbell

  Amarantha shoved the letter into her pocket and ran to the stairwell. She collided with the duke. His hands caught her.

  For a moment his grasp tightened, holding her close, and his gaze scanned her face swiftly.

  He released her.

  “What has happened?” he said.

  “I must find Dr. Shaw.”

  “Are you ill?”

  “No. There is news in the letter Mr. Bellarmine brought. My friend in Leith is in danger. I must help her. I will return there at once.”

  “What danger?”

  She tried to move around him. “It does not concern you.”

  He moved into her path. “What danger?”

  “There is a man there who seeks to harm her. She is terrified. I must go.”

  “Can she leave Leith?”

  “Leave? Her only friends are there.” Modest tradesmen and women, all of them, like Dr. Shaw and Alice Campbell, members of the fledgling abolitionist society. “She has no other place to go. But she cannot remain there. I must take her to England, to my family’s home. She will be safe—”

  “’Tis too far. She must come here. Write a letter to her. It willna require but ten minutes to harness a carriage.” He started across the hall.

  “You will send your stable hand to Leith now? Night will come on before he reaches the city. And you said he was away already.”

  “I will go. Quickly now, lass. Write the letter.”

  “Wait, no. What are you—Stop! You will drive to Leith as it grows dark, to fetch her here?”

  He crossed the room again and came so close that she had to tilt her head back to look into his face.

  “You have said your friend is in danger. You are distressed. What else do you imagine I could do?”

  “Six months ago you locked the gates of your estate against me. Three nights ago in Leith you refused to speak to me. Now you wish to help me?”

  “Aye.”

  “I do not understand you!”

  “There’s nothing to understand.” He touched her chin, abruptly, without warning, and a shock of pleasure darted through her so deep she had to capture her gasp between her teeth.

  “I am merely off to assist a princess in need,” he said with a half smile.

  She shifted her f
ace away from his touch.

  “Do not tease about that time. I have only bad feelings about it.”

  A moment passed. “I see.”

  “But that hardly matters at present. You cannot leave here now. You have a house full of guests.”

  “The only guest I have an interest in has just told me she intends to leave,” he said quite soberly. “This solution suits me better.”

  “Are you doing this to . . . to . . .”

  “To?”

  “To secure entrance to my bed?”

  She could feel the heat climbing into her cheeks as his smile returned.

  “Secure entrance?” he repeated. “Is there a lock on that bed, then? I’ll no’ be hesitant to search for that key too.”

  “Will you be serious for even a moment?”

  “I am. Now I’m off to Leith. Will you give me leave to depart?”

  She shook her head. “You truly are unbalanced, just as they say.”

  “Amarantha Vale, you’ll no’ escape me so easily this time.” He moved away again. “That’s no’ a threat, by the by,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  “Of course it isn’t. For it is nonsense.”

  “’Tis a promise.”

  Then he was gone and with appalling clarity she understood: he had no idea that he had broken her heart. And now, just as he had done then as a dashingly blithe tease with the reputation of a scoundrel, he was playing with her.

  But she was no longer the naïve girl from that time. Both he and her husband had seen to that. Now she knew how to protect her heart. This time she would not fall.

  Chapter 19

  The Dungeon

  Gabriel’s guests were gathered in the hall when Alice Campbell entered ahead of him and declared, “We are here! What have we missed?”

  “Alice? How good it is to see you!” Amarantha crossed the hall, but her worried gaze was upon him. “Where is Mrs. Aiken?”

  He gestured toward the foyer behind him. She passed him swiftly and went through the door. In silhouette from the pale afternoon sunshine, without words both women reached out their arms. Pale hands met dark, clasping tightly, and green eyes and brown both shone with relief.

  “Thank you, my friend,” Mrs. Aiken said.

  “We must direct our thanks to our host,” Amarantha said, turning toward him.