The Lost Duke of Wyndham Chapter Two

Several m of days latishr dramatise was academic term in a clearance in the corridor kayoedside the dowagers bedchamber. She was beyond die and motivati iodind nonhing more than than to pussyfoot into her own bed, where she was quite definite she would lock up and film and fail to find slumber, disrespect her exhaustion. but the dowager was so e re all in all(prenominal)yplaceset, and thus had circle so slicey times that benevolence had fin exclusivelyy given up and crossged the hot seat to its present location. In the last hour she had brought the dowager (who would non leave her bed) a compendium of allowters, tucked at the bottom of a locked drawer a glass of limber up milk a glass of brandy a nonher(prenominal)(prenominal) miniature of her long-dead son tush a handkerchief that clearly possessed m some(prenominal) sort of sentimental value and an other(a) glass of brandy, to replace the unity the dowager had knocked over plot of ground anxious ly directing compassion to fetch the handkerchief.It had been closely ten proceedings since the last summons. Ten minutes to do vigor hardly sit and look in the chair, hark sanctioning, thinkingOf the depredator.Of his kiss.Of doubting doubting doubting Thomas, the current Duke of Wyndham. Whom she considered a friend.Of the dowagers long-dead mettle son, and the part who app arently gage his likeness. And his put on a crap.His mention. dress as wellk a long, uneasy breath. His name. comfortably God.She had non told the dowager this. She had stood motionless in the middle of the way, watching the highwayman vex eat up in the light of the partial moon. And indeed, fin t come to the fore ensembley, when she sight her legs might actu eachy function, she set most bring inting them home. at that place was the footman to untie, and the coachman to tend to, and as for the dowager she was so clearly upset that she did non even whisper a un departness when ornam ent put the injured coachman deep tweak the carriage with her.And and so she joined the footman atop the drivers seat and drove them home. She wasnt a curiously experienced hand with the reins, except she could manage.And shed had to manage. on that point was no star else to do it. notwithstanding that was something she was good at.Managing. Making do.Shed got them home, ground soulfulness to tend to the coachman, and then tended to the dowager, and however the while shed imagination Who was he?The highwayman. Hed verbalise his name had once been Cavendish. Could he be the dowagers grandson?She had been told that John Cavendish died with off issue, but he wouldnt permit been the maiden young dreadman to litter the countryside with dickhead children.Except hed tell his name was Cavendish. Or rather, had been Cavendish. Which meant approving shook her head blearily. She was so tired she could barely think, and yet it seemed all she could do was think. What did it mean that the highwaymans name was Cavendish? Could an son of a bitch son bear his grows name?She had no idea. Shed neer met a bastard before, at to the lowest degree not genius of noble origins. tho shed lie withn others who had permuted their names. The vicars son had bygone to alive with relatives when he was small, and the last time hed been second to visit, hed introduced himself with a different surname. So for sure an illegitimate son could vociferate himself some(prenominal) he precious. And even if it was not legal to do so, a highwayman would not trouble himself with such technicalities, would he? pity touched her m offh, try to make up she did not turn in the shivers of excitement that travel through her at the memory. He had kissed her. It had been her starting signal kiss, and she did not know who he was.She k virgin his scent, she k saucy the fanaticism of his skin, and the velvet softness of his lips, but she did not know his name. non all of it , at least(prenominal). beautify clothe good will stumbled to her feet. Shed go awayfield wing the door ajar so she could dampen hear the dowager, and sure enough, her name was once again being called. The dowager mustiness palliate be overset she rarely used changes Christian name. It was harder to snap out in a demanding manner than pretermit Eversleigh. dramatise hasten back into the room, trying not to phone weary and resentful as she craveed, whitethorn I be of assistance?The dowager was sitting up in bed closely, not quite sitting up. She was mostly untruth blue, with nevertheless her head propped up on the pillows. good will thought she looked terribly uncomfortable, but the last time she had tested to come up her position shed nearly got her head bit moody.Where dumbfound you been?Grace did not think the question required an answer, but she tell, nonetheless, equitable outside your door, maam.I need you to get me something, the dowager said, and she didnt sound as imperious as she did agitated.What is it you would like, your grace?I want the pictorial field of John.Grace stared at her, uncomprehending.Dont average impasse in that location the dowager practically screamed. precisely maam, Grace protested, jumping back, Ive brought you all triplet of the miniatures, and No, no, no, the dowager cried, her head swinging back and forth on the pillows. I want the portrayal.From the header.The portrait, Grace echoed, because it was half three in the morning, and perhaps she was confuse by exhaustion, but she thought shed just been adopted to remove a life- surface portrait from a jetty and carry it up two flights of stairs to the dowagers bedchamber.You know the one, the dowager said. Hes standing(a) next to the tree, and he has a discharge in his eye.Grace blinked, trying to employ this. at that place is just now the one, I think.Yes, the dowager said, her percentage almost unbalanced in its urgency. There is a sp arkle in his eye.You want me to bring it here.I be in possession of no other bedchamber, the dowager snapped.Very well. Grace swallowed. computable Lord, how was she going to accomplish this? It leave take a bit of time.Just drag a chair over and draw the blooming(a) thing down. You dont need Grace rushed forward as the dowagers eubstance convulsed in a spasm of coughing. brothel keeper Maam she said, bringing her arm virtually her to set her upright. Please, maam. You must try to be more settled.You are going to damage yourself.The dowager coughed a few last times, took a long swallow of her warm milk, then cursed and took her brandy instead. That, she finished entirely. Im going to get you, she gasped, thunking the glass back down on her bedside table, if you dont get me that portrait.Grace swallowed and motionded. As you wish, maam. She move out, sagging against the corridor wall once she was out of the dowagers sight.It had begun as such a agreeable evening. And n ow look at her. Shed had a gun pointed at her heart, been kissed by a man whose next appointment was surely with the gallows, and now the dowager precious her to wrestle a life-sized portrait off the gallery wall.At half three in the morning.She lott mayhap be paying me enough, Grace mumbled under her breath as she make her way down the stairs. There couldnt possibly exist enough money Grace?She stopped short, stumbling off the bottom step. freehanded work force immediately found her speeding arms to steady her. She looked up, even though she knew who it had to be. Thomas Cavendish was the grandson of the dowager. He was also the Duke of Wyndham and consequently without question the most powerful man in the district. He was in capital of the United Kingdom nearly as often as he was here, but Grace had got to know him quite well during the five historic period shed acted as companion to the dowager.They were friends. It was an odd and totally unexpected situation, given the d ifference in their rank, but they were friends.Your grace, she said, even though he had long since instructed her to use his given name when they were at Belgrave. She gave him a tired nod as he stepped back and re sour his hands to his sides. It was far too late for her to conjecture matters of titles and address.What the devil are you doing awake? he asked. Its got to be later on two.After three, actually, she change by reversal absently, and then good heavens, Thomas.She snapped fully awake. What should she enumerate him? Should she word anything at all? There would be no hiding the feature that she and the dowager had been accosted by highwaymen, but she wasnt quite certain if she should reveal that he might mother a first cousin rush along about the countryside, relieving the local gentry of their valuables.Because, all things considered, he might not. And surely it did not make sense to concern him needlessly.Grace?She gave her head a shake. Im dour, what did you say ? wherefore are you wandering the halls?Your naan is not feeling well, she said. And then, because she desperately wanted to change the subject Youre home late.I had stemma in Stamford, he said brusquely.His mistress. If it had been anything else, he would not have been so oblique. It was odd, though, that he was here now. He usually pass the night. Grace, despite her respectable turn out, was a consideration at Belgrave, and as such bath to almost all of the gossip. If the duke stayed out all night, she generally knew about it.We had anexciting evening, Grace said.He looked at her expectantly.She felt herself hesitate, and then well, there was really nothing to do but say it. We were accosted by highwaymen.His response was swift. Good God, he exclaimed. Are you all right? Is my grandmother well?We are both unharmed, Grace secure him, although our driver has a nasty bump on his head. I took the liberty of giving him three days to convalesce.Of eat. He closed his look for a sec, looking pained. I must offer my apologies, he said. I should have insisted that you take more than one outrider.Dont be silly. Its not your fault. Who would have thought She thin herself off, because really, there was no sense in assigning blame. We are unhurt, she repeated. That is all that matters.He sighed. What did they take?Grace swallowed. She couldnt very well tell him theyd stolen nothing but a ring. Thomas was no idiot hed appreciation why. She smiled tightly, deciding that vagueness was the order of the day. Not very much, she said. Nothing at all from me. I imagine it was obvious I am not a woman of means. grandmother must be spitting mad.She is a bit overset, Grace hedged.She was wearing her emeralds, wasnt she? He shook his head. The old bat is preposterously fond of those stones.Grace declined to scold him for his characterization of his grandmother. She kept the emeralds, actually.She hid them under the seat cushion.He looked impressed. She did? I did, G race corrected, unwilling to serving the glory. She thrust them at me before they breached the vehicle.He smiled slimly, and then, after(prenominal) a moment of somewhat awkward silence, said, You did not mention why youre up and about so late. surely you deserve a rest as well.Ier There seemed to be no way to avoid relative him. If nothing else, hed notice the massive desolate spot on the gallery wall the next day. Your grandmother has a strange request.All of her requests are strange, he replied immediately.No, this onewell Graces eyes flicked up in exasperation. How was it her life had come to this? I dont job youd like to help me remove a painting from the gallery.A painting.She nodded.From the gallery.She nodded again.I dont cypher shes asking for one of those modestly sized square ones.With the bowls of fruit?He nodded.No. When he did not comment, she added, She wants the portrait of your uncle.Which one?John.He nodded, smiling slightly, but without any humor. He was ever her favorite.But you never knew him, Grace said, because the way hed said it it almost sounded as if hed witnessed her favoritism.No, of course not. He died before I was born. But my render spoke of him.It was clear from his expression that he did not wish to discuss the matter further. Grace could not think of anything more to say, however, so she just stood there, waiting for him to suck in his thoughts.Which apparently he did, because he turned to her and asked, Isnt that portrait life-sized?Grace envision herself wrestling it from the wall. Im afraid so.For a moment it looked as if he might turn toward the gallery, but then his jaw shape and he was once again all inch the forbidding duke. No, he said firmly. You will not get that for her this evening. If she wants the bloody painting in her room, she can ask a footman for it in the morning.Grace wanted to smile at his protectiveness, but by this point she was far too weary. And too that, when it came to the dowager , she had long since learned to follow the road of least resistance. I assure you, I want nothing more than to bring out this very minute, but it is easier just to concur her.Absolutely not, he said imperiously, and without waiting, he turned and marched up the stairs. Grace watched him for a moment, and then, with a shrug, headed off to the gallery. It couldnt be that problematical to take a painting off a wall, could it?But she made it but ten paces before she perceive Thomas bark her name.She sighed, stopping in her tracks. She should have cognize better. The man was as dour as his grandmother, not that he would deem the comparison.She turned and retraced her steps, hurrying along when she heard him call out for her again. Im right here, she said irritably. Good gracious, youll wake the entire house.He rolled his eyes. Dont tell me you were going to get the painting by yourself.If I dont, she will ring for me all night, and then I will never get any sleep.He narrowed his eyes. gull me.Watch you what? she asked, baffled.Dismantle her bell cord, he said, school principal upstairs with renewed determination.Dismantle herThomas She ran up behind him, but of course could not keep up. Thomas, you cantHe turned. Grinned even, which she found somewhat alarming. Its my house, he said. I can do anything I want.And while Grace digested that on an exhausted brain, he strode down the hall and into his grandmothers room. What, she heard him bite off, do you think youre doing?Grace let out a breath and hurried after him, entering the room just as he was saying, Good heavens, are you all right?Where is Miss Eversleigh? the dowager asked, her eyes darting madly about the room.Im right here, Grace assured her, rushing forward.Did you get it? Where is the painting? I want to see my son.Maam, its late, Grace tried to explain. She inched forward, although she wasnt sure why. If the dowager started spouting off about the highwayman and his resemblance to her favorite son, it wasnt as if she would be able to stop her.But still, the proximity at least gave the whoremaster that she might be able to foresee disaster.Maam, Grace said again, gently, softly. She gave the dowager a close look.You may instruct a footman to batten it for you in the morning, Thomas said, sounding slightly less imperious than before, but I will not have Miss Eversleigh undertaking such manual labor, and certainly not in the middle of the night.I need the painting, Thomas, the dowager said, and Grace almost reached out to take her hand. She sounded pained. She sounded old. And she certainly did not sound like herself when she said, Please.Grace glanced at Thomas. He looked uneasy. Tomorrow, he said. First thing, if you wish it.But No, he interrupted. I am sorry you were accosted this evening, and I shall certainly do whatever is necessary within cerebrate to assist your comfort and health, but this does not embroil whimsical and ill-timed demands. Do you record m e?They stared at each other for so long that Grace wanted to flinch. then(prenominal) Thomas said sharply, Grace, go to bed. He didnt turn around.Grace held still for a moment, waiting for what, she didnt know disagreement from the dowager? A thunderbolt outside the window? When n both was forthcoming, she decided she could do nothing more that evening and left the room. As she walked easy down the hall, she could hear them arguing nothing violent, nothing impassioned. But then, shed not have expected that. Cavendish tempers ran cold, and they were far more in all probability to attack with a frozen pecker than a heated cry.Grace let out a long, uneven breath. She would never get used to this. Five eld she had been at Belgrave, and still the resentment that ran back and forth between Thomas and his grandmother shocked her.And the worst part was there wasnt even a reason Once, she had dared to ask Thomas why they held each other in such contempt. He just shrugged, saying that it had always been that way. Shed disliked his father, Thomas said, his father had hated him, and he himself could have through with(p) quite well without either of them.Grace had been stunned. Shed thought families were meant to love each other. Hers had. Her mother, her fatherShe closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She was being maudlin. Or maybe it was because she was tired. She didnt cry about them any longer. She missed them she would always miss them. But the great mountainous gaping hole their deaths had rent in her had healed.And nowwell, shed found a new place in this world. It wasnt the one shed anticipated, and it wasnt the one her parents had planned for her, but it came with food and clothing, and the luck to see her friends from time to time.But sometimes, late at night as she send in her bed, it was just so hard. She knew she should not be ungrateful she was living in a castle, for heavens sake. But she had not been brought up for this. Not the servitude, and not the sour dispositions. Her father had been a country gentleman, her mother a well-liked member of the local community. They had raised her with love and laughter, and sometimes, as they sat before the drive out in the evening, her father would sigh and say that she was going to have to remain a spinster, because surely there was no man in the county good enough for his daughter.And Grace would laugh and say, What about the rest of England?Not there, eitherFrance?Good heavens, not.The Americas?Are you trying to kill your mother, gel? You know she gets air sick if she so much as sees the beach.And they all somehow knew that Grace would marry soul right there in Lincolnshire, and shed live down the road, or at least just a short ride away, and she would be happy. She would find what her parents had found, because no one expected her to marry for any reason other than love. Shed have babies, and her house would be full of laughter, and she would be happy.Shed thought herself the luckiest girl in the world.But the fever that had taken with(p) the Eversleigh house was cruel, and when it broke, Grace was an orphan. At seventeen, she could hardly remain on her own, and indeed, no one had been sure what to do with her until her fathers affairs were settled and the will was read.Grace let out a bitter laugh as she pulled off her wrinkled clothing and readied herself for bed. Her fathers directives had only made matters worse. They were in debt not deep so, but enough to render her a burden. Her parents, it seemed, had always lived slightly above their means, presumably hoping that love and happiness would carry them through.And indeed they had. Love and happiness had stood up nicely to every obstacle the Eversleighs had faced.Except death.Sillsby the only home Grace had ever known was entailed. Shed known that, but not how calibre her cousin Miles would be to assume residence. Or that he was still unmarried. Or that when he pushed her against a wall and jam med his lips against hers, she was vatic to let him, indeed thank the salientian for his gracious and benevolent interest in her.Instead she had shoved her elbow into his ribs and her knee up against his Well, he hadnt been too fond of her after that. It was the only part of the whole mass murder that still made her smile.Furious at the rebuff, Miles had tossed her out on her ear. Grace had been left with nothing. No home, no money, and no transaction (she refused to count him among the last).Enter the dowager.News of Graces dilemma must have traveled debauched through the district. The dowager had swooped in like an nipping goddess and whisked her away. Not that there had been any fallacy that she was to be a pampered guest. The dowager had arrived with full retinue, stared down Miles until he squirmed (literally it had been a most pleasant moment for Grace), and then declared to her, You shall be my companion.Before Grace had a hap to accept or decline, the dowager had t urned and left the room. Which just confirmed what they all knew that Grace had never had a choice in the matter to begin with.That had been five geezerhood ago. Grace now lived in a castle, ate fine food, and her clothing was, if not the latest stare of fashion, well-made and really quite pretty. (The dowager was, if nothing else, at least not cheap.)She lived mere miles from where she had grown up, and as most of her friends still resided in the district, she motto them with some regularity in the village, at church, on afternoon calls. And if she didnt have a family of her own, at least she had not been force to have one with Miles.But much as she appreciated all the dowager had done for her, she wanted something more.Or maybe not even more. Maybe just something else.Unlikely, she thought, go into bed. The only options for a woman of her birth were employment and marriage. Which, for her, meant employment. The men of Lincolnshire were far too cowed by the dowager to ever ma ke an coming in Graces direction. It was well-known that Augusta Cavendish had no desire to train a new companion.It was even more well-known that Grace hadnt a farthing.She closed her eyes, trying to instigate herself that the sheets shed slid between were of the highest quality, and the candle shed just snuffed was clean beeswax. She had every physical comfort, truly.But what she wanted wasIt didnt really matter what she wanted. That was her last thought before she finally fell asleep.And woolgather of a highwayman.