Of Dukes and Deceptions Page 10

  “We can’t have that, Aunt, not when you’ve gone to so much trouble.” Alicia attempted to keep the amusement out of her voice. “I dare say I’ll be strong enough by this evening to attend your dinner, even if the dancing afterwards is beyond me.”

  If Alicia had thought her aunt would display gratitude, then she was to be disappointed. “No, that wouldn’t be sensible. Don’t spare it another thought. Upon reflection, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned the matter. You’d be better advised to remain here and have your supper sent up on a tray.”

  “Thank you, Aunt. But I believe I’ll enjoy the gathering and mean to attend it.”

  Quite why she was insisting upon being part of an assembly she’d infinitely prefer to avoid, Alicia couldn’t have said. She anticipated deriving little pleasure from the party but had a duty to thank His Grace for saving her life. He could hardly call upon her here in her boudoir, and in all likelihood he would leave Ravenswing Manor tomorrow. She wouldn’t get another opportunity to say her piece so tonight it would have to be.

  Alicia suspected that a visit from Frederick would follow close on the heels of her aunt’s. Anxious to avoid the confrontation, she ignored Janet’s disapproving frown and slipped out of her chamber, Jasper at her side. She took the back stairs to the yard, from which she could reach her animal hospital without the likelihood of detection. Both her arm and her temple protested at the speed of her movement but the dizziness had gone. Her mind, at least, was now perfectly clear.

  She hadn’t been in the barn for more than ten minutes before the door opened. Her heart sank. Surely Frederick hadn’t discovered her already? She looked up and couldn’t conceal her surprise at seeing Maria standing in the doorway. Her cousin lifted her sprigged muslin skirts and stepped delicately across the floor, wrinkling her nose at imaginary odours.

  “Maria, whatever brings you here?”

  “I was told that you’re at death’s door but obviously the accounts of your injuries were greatly exaggerated.”

  Alicia placed the fox cub she’d been treating back in its pen. She knew her cousin too well to take offence at her ill-mannered remarks. “Thank you for your concern, Maria. As you can see, I’m not seriously injured.”

  “For which we must be thankful, I suppose.”

  “I’m told that His Grace’s quick thinking saved the day.”

  “Yes, he was heroic. And he’s not once complained about the inconvenience you caused to his plans.”

  Alicia stifled a smile. “That’s too good of him.”

  “Mama says you insist upon attending tonight’s party. Do you think that’s wise? Papa says people who’ve had concussions ought not to overexert themselves.”

  Alicia bit back a second smile. Maria was so transparent. “My aunt was concerned about her numbers being uneven. I wouldn’t like to disrupt her arrangements.”

  “Oh, there’s no need to worry about that.” She flapped a hand. “I dare say no one will even notice you’re not there. And Frederick doesn’t wish his fiancée to be overset. He’s quite adamant on the point.”

  “I’m not engaged to Frederick, Maria.”

  “No, not yet, but you’ve agreed to think about his proposal.”

  “I’ve done no such thing. I merely—”

  “I think you’re being very clever, pretending not to want him. It’s a sure-fire way to increase his love for you. But it’s as plain as day that you’ll eventually accept him.” She spread her hands in a gesture that implied Alicia had little choice in the matter if she didn’t wish to end her days as an old maid. Maria couldn’t know that at that precise moment spinsterhood had never appeared more attractive to Alicia. “I mean, you love this house and the stud and, well, everything about Ravenswing Manor. So how could you seriously consider refusing Frederick?”

  Alicia allowed her cousin to ramble on about the benefits of the match, wondering why she was so keen to promote it. Maria seldom worried her head about anything that didn’t impinge directly upon her own well-being.

  “Are you listening to me, Alicia?”

  Alicia reached for a jar and unscrewed the lid. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Maria, what did you—”

  “Yuck, what’s that?”

  Alicia smiled. “A combination of elderberry and mandrake root of my own concoction. It’s effective in healing the animals’ more serious injuries.”

  “It smells vile.” Maria took a step back, watching Alicia as she carefully replaced the lid on the jar and stored it in her medicine cupboard. “Does it work?”

  “Usually, but I must use it sparingly. It’s highly toxic, you see.”

  “Then surely it will kill the animals, not cure them.”

  “I use it on external wounds that don’t heal naturally. I have to ensure they can’t lick it away, though. If they were to ingest even a little, they’d die very painful deaths.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Maria appeared to lose interest after that and returned to the subject of the forthcoming party. She lived in expectation of making a favourable impression upon His Grace in her fabulous new ball gown. Was confident that she’d spend half the night dancing with him.

  Alicia’s attention was now focused on a badger with a badly injured paw. She didn’t believe Maria stood an earthly chance of achieving that ambition but knew it would be a waste of her breath to say so.

  “Any news from the sickroom, Gibson?”

  “There ain’t anyone in it.”

  Nick frowned. “How can that be?”

  “Well, it seems Miss Woodley’s been in her animal hospital most of the afternoon.”

  “Blast! I wish I’d known. I urgently need to talk to her.”

  “Talk?” Gibson’s expression was openly sceptical.

  “Yes, Gibson, talk.” Nick sighed. “She needs to be aware that her accident was no accident.”

  “Won’t that overset her?”

  “No, I’m persuaded that she’s made of sterner stuff. Besides, no one outside this house has any reason to wish her dead, so it must be one of her family who wants her done away with.” He paced the length of the room in some agitation. “And what better time to try than when the house is crowded with strangers, as it will be tonight?”

  “I suppose so. By the way, the word below stairs is that Frederick Woodley’s renewed his addresses and this time Miss Woodley’s agreed to consider them.”

  Nick elevated a brow. “Has she indeed! That does surprise me. Even so, it doesn’t change anything. She still ought to know she’s in danger.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To check on the progress of a sick rabbit.”

  Nick left the room to the sound of Gibson’s ribald guffaw. He was approaching Alicia’s barn when the door opened and Maria Woodley emerged. Swiftly he concealed himself. If she caught him anywhere near Alicia, inappropriate conclusions would be drawn. He’d already discovered that Maria was given to sulking when she didn’t get her own way, and he had no wish to complicate matters by setting her against him.

  He waited some moments to be sure she’d returned to the house, wondering what could have possessed a fastidious creature like Maria to venture into the muddy yard. He didn’t think she was so fond of her cousin that she’d risk ruining her slippers just to enquire after her health. He slipped into Alicia’s domain without pausing to knock. This barn was overlooked by some of the rooms at the back of the house. It wouldn’t do to be seen loitering outside it.

  Alicia looked up when she heard the door closing behind him. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Nick might have hoped for a warmer greeting but already knew Alicia well enough not to be disappointed. “I came to enquire how you feel.”

  “As you see.” She concentrated her attention on the badger cub on her lap. For some reason she didn’t seem to want to look at him.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better. But I’d advise against overexerting yourself.”

  “So you seek to prevent me from attending this evening’s party t
oo.” She looked up again and this time fastened her remarkable eyes squarely upon his face. “First my aunt, then Maria, and now you.” She offered him the ghost of a smile. “If I were the sensitive type, I’d be feeling put out by everyone’s determination to exclude me.”

  “Without your presence the party will be a dull affair. But I’m willing to sacrifice the pleasure of your company since I’m more concerned for your welfare. You shouldn’t underestimate the effects of concussion, you know. I wouldn’t have you set yourself back for the sake of an evening’s entertainment.”

  She returned the badger cub to a pen. “Thank you, Your Grace. I’m grateful for your concern. And talking of gratitude, I believe I owe you my thanks. I understand you came across me and brought me back to the house.”

  He bowed. “It was nothing.”

  “I disagree. It was a very great deal.” She sighed. “You must find me a dreadful trial. First Matilda almost caused you to have an accident. Then I was responsible for you getting drenched to the skin. And now this.” She offered him an apologetic smile. “I’m not usually so helpless.”

  Nick smiled his reassurance. “I hadn’t, for one moment, supposed that you are.”

  Looking at her deathly pale face, he was assaulted by a range of emotions he was at a loss to identify. The silence, taut and brittle, lengthened between them. A tiny frown invaded her brow, as though she sensed their relationship had just undergone some fundamental alteration and was struggling to comprehend its nature.

  Nick sensed it too. He was overwhelmed with a torrent of protective feelings toward her, silently vowing to keep her safe from further murderous attacks. He wouldn’t leave this place until he could satisfy himself that the danger had passed, which meant identifying the crime’s perpetrator. None of her relations could be trusted to take proper care of her, so that duty would just have to fall to him.

  Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t hesitate to use their current situation to his advantage. They were alone in a barn full of the softest, most inviting-looking straw he’d ever seen. It was the perfect opportunity to further his amatory ambitions. But he wouldn’t take it. She might feel she had no choice but to submit because she was in his debt. He shook his head. It was as he’d told her before. She must come to him and put her request into words without any coercion on his part.

  “How’s our rabbit?” he asked.

  “See for yourself.”

  She pointed to an open pen. The rabbit—every bit as scrawny as he recalled—was nibbling away at something green. The pen wasn’t enclosed, but the rabbit showed no desire to escape. Amazingly, the other residents—creatures that would normally be at odds with one another—were also free to roam but didn’t appear to wish their fellow patients any harm.

  Alicia had moved to stand beside him. Her close proximity immediately tested Nick’s resolve to keep her at arm’s length. He clenched his fists and concentrated his thoughts upon her cousin Maria. An instant means of quelling his desire.

  “She seems to be recovering remarkably quickly,” he said.

  “Yes, she’ll be well enough to return to the wild in a week or so.”

  “So, sweet Alicia,” he said softly, “it seems I must now claim my position as your guardian, as well as that of the rabbit’s.”

  “Nonsense!”

  “Oh, but I insist upon your indulging a superstitious man’s whims. I saved your life and so I’m responsible for you until such time as you can return the favour.”

  “I can’t imagine that situation ever arising.”

  He shrugged. “Then you’ll remain eternally in my debt.”

  Slowly he lowered his head and covered her lips with his own. This was madness! Hadn’t he just decided not to put her in a position where she felt under obligation toward him? That was the only right and honourable course to take, so why was he doing precisely the opposite?

  Nick simply didn’t know what madness drove him. There was just an indefinable something about her that enthralled him. What harm could there be in stealing just one kiss?

  He supported her by placing an arm round her waist, careful to avoid contact with her injured arm and the dressing which covered her bruised head. She swayed against him, and he didn’t know if she was overcome with passion or swooning as a result of her injuries.

  But he was already past caring. Her lips were agonisingly sweet. Delicate and fragrant. The desire to deepen the kiss was intense but her reaction, or lack of it, brought him to his senses. He released her. He’d come here to warn her that her life was in danger, not seduce her.

  “Alicia, I need to warn you that—”

  The door opened. “Damn!” Nick swiftly moved away from her.

  “Come along, lamb, you’ve been in here for…oh! Excuse me, Your Grace.” Janet dropped a hasty curtsey. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “I came to enquire after Miss Woodley’s health.” He bowed over Alicia’s hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “I rejoice to see you on the road to recovery, Miss Woodley, and look forward to seeing you at dinner this evening.”

  “Thank you.” She paused. “For everything.”

  “You’re entirely welcome.”

  “Good day, Your Grace.” She curtsied and smiled simultaneously.

  “I need to have a private word with you later,” he said in an undertone as he escorted her to the door, leaving her in Janet’s care.

  Chapter Eight

  “How is she?” Gibson held out Nick’s coat and examined it critically for imagined imperfections.

  “Weak but insisting upon attending tonight’s party.”

  “And how did she take the warning that someone’s trying to kill her?”

  “I didn’t actually have the opportunity to broach the subject.”

  “Oh, aye.” Gibson eyed Nick askance. “Wot were you talking about then?”

  “That’s no concern of yours.” He ignored Gibson’s raucous chuckle. “The only good thing about her attending tonight’s soiree is that I’ll be able to keep her in my sights.”

  “What about tomorrow, though?”

  “What indeed?” Nick shrugged. “I can hardly tell her in a room full of her relations that one of them might be trying to kill her, but she does need to know. I shall need your help to get her alone.”

  “All right. Wot do you have in mind?” Gibson asked. Nick told him. “Blimey, you don’t ask much, do you.”

  “Nevertheless, it’s necessary.”

  “I suppose it is.” Gibson offered up a martyred sigh. “Leave it to me then, guv’nor, and I’ll see wot I can do.” He paused. “Shall I start packing afterwards? I assume we’ll be on our way tomorrow.”

  “No, I still haven’t got to the bottom of this business with the stud. The accounts have yet to be produced. And I can’t leave Miss Woodley until I’m satisfied she’ll be safe.”

  “There’s no reason why the accounts should be delayed. It’s a ploy to keep you here, if you ask me. And if we stay much longer, it’ll raise expectations. You’re spending a deal of time with Maria Woodley. If you’re not careful, yer actions’ll be taken the wrong way.”

  “I’m not spending time with her, Gibson.” Nick glowered. “It’s she who’s pursuing me.”

  “Well, I know that, obviously, but it ain’t how it looks to outsiders. The minx is determined to have you and she’s uncommonly crafty about it, if you ask me. It wouldn’t surprise me if she arranged for her cousin to be attacked just to keep you here.”

  “Warning heeded.” Nick grimly headed for the door.

  He was curious to meet Woodley’s guests. This was prime horse country and he might learn something useful about the stud to substantiate Dawson’s claims. He was introduced to one dreary middle-class neighbour after another. None of their names were familiar to him since he didn’t usually mix in such lowly circles. Why in the name of Hades did Woodley suppose these people would interest him? But one thing struck him as exceedingly odd. Woodley was surrounded by horse b
reeders and hadn’t invited a single one to join them this evening.

  He was trying to decide if that was significant when Alicia appeared. She was wearing the same emerald gown he’d so admired on his first evening here. Her hair had been fashioned to conceal the dressing on her temple. She looked pale but composed as she glided into the room. Frederick Woodley materialised and took up a place beside her, staking a claim.

  Nick grinned behind his hand. He’d never knowingly backed down from a challenge and wasn’t about to start now.

  He excused himself from the matron and her tiresome daughter who were attempting to engage him in conversation and crossed the room to join Alicia.

  “Miss Woodley, may I enquire how you’re feeling?”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. Apart from an injured arm and sore head I’m entirely recovered.”

  “I’m gratified to hear you say so.”

  “I believe I owe you my thanks. I understand that you came to my rescue.”

  “Actually, it was Jasper,” he said, offering her a smile that pointedly excluded Frederick Woodley. She appeared anxious to create the impression that they hadn’t already held this conversation in private and he was happy to go along with that charade.

  “Yes, and he’s already been rewarded.”

  Nick wanted to ask what reward she had in mind for him. He left the words unspoken, making do with a significant smile that caused her to blush. Woodley was shuffling awkwardly at Alicia’s side, clearly wanting rid of him. Nick’s own time with her would come later, if Gibson played his part right, but out of sheer devilment he lingered. He was curious to see if Alicia was forming an attachment to her cousin or if the servants had, for once, got it wrong.

  “It’s always gratifying to have a tame lap dog by one’s side, Miss Woodley.”

  His eyes lingered upon Frederick Woodley as he spoke. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. When Alicia was compelled to stifle a giggle, Nick knew Woodley’s suit was doomed to failure. He strolled away from them and condescended to be introduced to a few of the latecomers. Suddenly he was in a very good mood and treated the awestruck guests with a greater degree of civility than they had any right to expect.