Fit for a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Read online

  There was a whole pig roasting on a spit, Clio noticed, and a bewildering array of cold meats and tempting puddings already on display. Various games had been set up around the clearing that could have been arranged with far less effort on the part of Lady Fletcher’s servants in the gardens of Windgates. The only advantage to this location, Clio decided, was the magnificent view of the surrounding countryside and the nearby village from their vantage point on high ground. That view was impeded today by low clouds and only spasmodic sunshine, but if rain was in the offing no one seemed to mind. There was a carnival atmosphere which allowed the guests to feel they were being granted a temporary respite that they fully intended to exploit.

  Which was what concerned Clio. Even though she was annoyed with Ezra for jumping to conclusions, she was still worried that the assassin would seize his opportunity in such a situation. She glanced around, seeing a dozen different places at a glance where a man could hide and wait for that opportunity to present itself. She noticed Merlin, nose pressed to the ground, scouting out some of the trees in question and using them as watering posts. She felt a little less concerned now that she had seen the dog doing his patrols. With great good fortune, his presence would prevent any intruder getting too close.

  ‘Some picnic,’ she muttered, walking with Adele towards some vacant seats and watching the rest of the guests mingling. The duchess had gone in another direction and Clio noticed her in heated conversation with Ezra.

  ‘Let’s get something to eat before a queue forms,’ Adele suggested.

  Clio had no appetite, but agreed readily enough. If they were surrounded by other people, it would prevent Adele from asking the questions that Clio knew she must be burning to voice.

  ‘More to the point, once the irksome business of eating is out of the way, it will give you more time to spend with Lord Fryer,’ Clio teased, squeezing her cousin’s arm as they took the plates handed to them by footmen and worked their way along the table, helping themselves to modest servings of their favourite delicacies.

  Others joined them at the long tables, but Ezra wasn’t amongst their number. In fact, she couldn’t see him or Merlin anywhere, but Mr Godfrey was lurking on the periphery and Clio had to believe that he would not let his master out of his sight.

  Once the meal was out of the way, everyone got up and wandered about, the bolder young ladies taking the opportunity to stroll away from their chaperones, most of whom appeared to be fighting postprandial somnolence. Adele had excused herself and disappeared on Lord Fryer’s arm. In spite of her graver concerns, Clio took a moment to celebrate the fact that the attractive viscount’s interest in her cousin didn’t appear to be waning. At least something had gone right for one of them.

  No one appeared to pay Clio any particular attention, presumably because the duke hadn’t come anywhere near her. They would be congratulating themselves upon having surmised that such a sophisticated gentleman couldn’t possibly have an abiding interest in someone of such lowly stature. One or two of the young ladies sent her supercilious looks as she passed them, taking pleasure from the fact that she had been put firmly back in her place. She actually overheard someone suggest that the duchess had deliberately taken her up in her carriage so that she could warn her off the duke.

  Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of society’s petty jealousies, she wandered off alone wondering whether she really wanted to put herself through a season if this was the type of treatment she had to look forward to. There was no substance to this party, the conversation amongst the ladies appeared to focus almost exclusively upon matrimony and gossip, and she was bored. Or she would have been but for the fact that she had an ungrateful duke to keep alive, she reminded herself.

  About to seek him out, she almost literally bumped straight into him. He put out a hand to steady her and when she looked up into his face she blanched at the ferocity of his expression.

  ‘You should not have left the main party,’ he scolded. ‘It isn’t safe.’

  ‘I was looking for you. I wanted to make sure you were not being used for target practice—precious little thanks I get for it.’

  His expression softened. ‘I am sorry my mother took you up,’ he said.

  ‘It gave the wrong impression, I am well aware of that, and I dare say you are cross about it, but I couldn’t refuse her.’ Clio tossed her head, thinking it vital that he understood her predicament. ‘It would have been impolite.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Ezra raised one brow in evident surprise. ‘She did not discourage you?’ he asked.

  She sent him an innocent smile from beneath the brim of her hat. ‘Discourage me from what?’ She bent to make a fuss of Merlin, who had come running up to them, his tail spiralling.

  ‘Minx!’ The anger left his eyes. ‘You know very well.’

  ‘I know that tongues are wagging for no good reason, which is tiresome. It is not as if I can tell anyone the truth about the reason for our collaboration.’

  ‘Our collaboration?’ He looked amused as he turned a laugh into a cough.

  ‘Your lady mother has the wrong idea too. I like her very much, by the way, which I will confess comes as a surprise. Your father, she tells me, was not an easy man and he showed little or no affection.’

  ‘She actually admitted that to you?’ Ezra ground his jaw, not waiting for a response. ‘It’s the truth but not the sort of thing that one would ordinarily tell a stranger.’ Speculation filtered across his features, culminating in a smile. ‘I am surprised she cared about the pater’s behaviour, or took any notice of it, come to that. She always seemed to be too busy with her own affairs and totally self-sufficient. Too busy for her own children.’

  Clio wanted to explain why she had cut herself off from them but decided it wasn’t her place to do so. Ezra and the duchess must work things out between themselves.

  ‘Any sign of the assassin?’ she asked. ‘Not that you would know, of course. I dare say he either hides himself away or, if he is one of our party then he blends in. I noticed Merlin checking out likely hiding places earlier.’ She chuckled. ‘I hope he ruined the assassin’s boots.’

  ‘I have several men posted and keeping their eyes open as well as this lazy mutt.’ Ezra tugged at one of Merlin’s ears, sending the dog into a state of near delirium. ‘Even so, I shouldn’t stay with you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry.’ Clio gave her head another lofty toss. ‘The gossips will soon tire of their sport when they realise that I have not developed ideas above my station.’

  ‘Foolish child! I hadn’t given the tattle a second thought and no more should you.’

  ‘Your reputation will not suffer. In fact, the gossip will likely enhance it, whereas mine will soon be beyond redemption.’ She glanced at a growing number of people who had found reasons to stroll close to them, too close, and linger. ‘Really, it is most unfair!’

  Ezra laughed. ‘Go and join in the games. They are bobbing for apples by the looks of things. A ridiculous game but at least you’ll be unlikely to suffer any fate worse than a ducking.’

  ‘Do you always tell people what to do?’

  ‘Almost always.’ He flashed a self-deprecating smile. ‘I can’t seem to help myself.’

  ‘I know that you think of me as an adolescent, but it does not necessarily follow that I enjoy adolescent pursuits and I don’t have the least intention of ruining my new bonnet by risking the ducking you seem to think I deserve.’

  His eyes flashed with an unholy light. ‘Let me put you right on that point. I think of you a great deal but never as an adolescent, and therein lies my difficulty.’

  ‘You are talking in riddles again,’ Clio replied impatiently, ‘and I am not nearly clever enough to understand you, so I shall not attempt it. Where is your Lady Walder? I have hardly seen her or Salford this afternoon.’

  ‘She is not mine and I venture to suggest that they have gone off somewhere together.’

  ‘Well then, either they intend to do away with you between them
or they are not the ones trying to kill you.’

  Ezra tilted his head and grinned. ‘Very astute.’

  ‘I am at my wits’ end attempting to keep you alive and all you can do is laugh at me!’ she cried.

  ‘Go and join your aunt, my sweet. If anyone does attempt to kill me—’

  ‘You are making it very easy for them by wandering about away from the rest of the party,’ she scolded.

  ‘That is rather the point. But don’t worry, we are not alone.’

  ‘Very reassuring.’

  ‘I am almost certain that we will be able to foil any attack, but just in case we do not, I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.’

  She could see from the dark intensity of his gaze that his concern was entirely for her. Her heart melted and she stopped fighting the attraction, admitting to herself that she was violently in love with this noble if annoyingly dictatorial aristocrat. One-sided love affairs were destined to fail, obviously, and Clio’s pride would ensure that she took her secret to her grave. Not even Adele would wheedle it out of her.

  A loud peal of laughter came from the area where the games were taking place. Lord Fryer grinned good-naturedly as he shook water from his hair. Clearly, the apple bobbing had defeated him.

  ‘Go and join them,’ Ezra said, making shooing motions with his hands. ‘I will be there myself directly.’

  ‘Very well, but take care. Your mother will not survive the loss of another child.’

  ‘Glad to know that you have my mother’s interests at heart,’ he replied in an amused tone.

  ‘What other reason could I possibly have to care about your survival?’ Clio asked, sauntering away.

  Feeling uneasy about the situation but having no choice but to leave Ezra to present himself as a target, Clio joined the others clustered around the apple bobbing but couldn’t get into the spirit of things. Her cousins were both taken up with their escorts, there was no sign of the duchess or of her carriage either and Clio supposed she had taken the opportunity to call upon Lord Brennan. She genuinely hoped that the unhappy lady was enjoying a few hours of pleasure.

  A loud clap of thunder directly overhead elicited a collective groan. The first heavy raindrops fell without warning, soaking through delicate muslins and straw bonnets. There was an unseemly scramble to reach the carriages, where hoods were being hastily put up by a squadron of grooms.

  Clio looked for Ezra, who had been accosted by Lady Walder. Salford was not with her, which caused Clio to wonder. Had Lady Walder distracted Ezra to prevent him from returning to his horse, thereby giving Salford an ideal opportunity to fire a deadly shot while pandemonium reigned? No one would hear a pistol being discharged above the noise of the storm. But then again, being killed by a pistol could not be written off as an accident and all hell would break loose in pursuit of the perpetrator. If Ezra was right then the assassin had gone to considerable lengths to make his previous handiwork appear accidental and had thus far avoided detection as a consequence.

  Feeling a little reassured on that score, Clio was still very suspicious of Lady Walder and didn’t like the thought of her clinging to Ezra. Even so, there was nothing she could do to separate them. He would not thank her for her intervention, so she would be better advised to consider how best to get back to the house. Hopefully there would be seats in other carriages for her and Adele, given that the duchess was still absent.

  She glared one last time at Ezra, doing her damnedest to communicate her fears to him, but he didn’t once look in her direction and continued a heated discussion with Lady Walder instead. Now soaked to the skin, Clio fervently hoped that Mr Godfrey and whoever else Ezra had posted would be keeping him in their sights. There was nothing more that she could do to help him and if she lingered, then she could well distract him, with deadly consequences. The best, indeed the only thing she could do now to help him was to return to the house and wait to hear that he had also got back unharmed.

  The wait would, she knew, be long and anxious.

  Not paying attention to her footing, she slipped on a muddy patch and a strong arm grabbed her around the waist to prevent her from taking a tumble. Before she could thank her saviour, a sack was pulled over her head. Fear swept through her. This couldn’t be right. No one had any reason to abduct her. It had to be a silly joke. Despite the storm, everyone seemed to be in high spirits still. This was just an extension of the games. Someone was getting their revenge because she’d refused to bob for apples, claiming that she feared for her bonnet.

  A bonnet that must have fallen from her head when the man grabbed her, she assumed, since her hair was now falling over her face and tickling her nose beneath the horrible sacking.

  Clio’s mind cleared and she knew it was no joke. No gentleman would manhandle a single lady, or any lady at all, in such a brutish and familiar fashion. Fear and desperation lent her superhuman strength and she kicked wildly at her abductor’s shins. He responded with a string of oaths as he tightened his hold on her.

  ‘Stop struggling,’ he said gruffly, ‘or it will be the worse for you.’

  Clio never had been good at obeying orders and kicked backwards, trying her damnedest to make contact with the man’s genitals. He groaned and momentarily released his hold on her, implying that she had found her target. Clio screamed at the top of her voice and tried to run. But her voice was drowned out by thunder as it cracked directly above their heads. The man again caught her and delivered a swift clout to the side of her head. Clio saw stars as pain shot through her temple and the fight drained out of her. She was vaguely aware of being swept from the ground and thrown over a shoulder.

  That was all she recalled before she lost consciousness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ezra was grateful when the storm broke. Lady Walder had latched onto him but would now have to run for the cover of the carriages or risk a soaking. He was also well aware that in all the confusion it would be the perfect time for the assassin to strike. Merlin stood close at his heels, growling and cowering simultaneously, frightened of the storm but still determined to protect Ezra. In that regard, he didn’t seem too impressed by Lady Walder and his growls were directed towards her, albeit from behind the protection of Ezra’s legs.

  ‘You must leave here,’ Ezra said, turning towards the tethered horses. Most were already gone, as were the majority of carriages. Pharaoh shuffled uneasily on the end of his lead rope, frightened by the thunder too. ‘Your delay is holding up the last of the carriages and its occupants will be getting wet.’ He nodded towards the only remaining conveyance, which contained an agitated Lady Fletcher. ‘A word to the wise, madam,’ he added sotto voce, ‘do not embarrass yourself by attempting to attract me, since it will not serve.’

  She turned to look at him, openly shocked. ‘Clearly you misconstrue. We must continue this conversation later, in private, and iron out the unfortunate misunderstanding.’

  ‘I think not,’ Ezra replied, forgoing the remnants of civility. If she was willing to be so brazen then he would ensure that his intentions were not misconstrued. ‘Enjoy Salford. You deserve one another.’

  Ezra left her with her mouth hanging open and strode away, vaguely conscious of Lady Fletcher’s voice urging her to get into the carriage and out of the rain.

  ‘Anything?’ Ezra asked as he swung into Pharaoh’s damp saddle and took up the reins. The horse immediately became less skittish with Ezra on his back, or perhaps because the storm was already abating.

  ‘Quiet as the grave,’ Godfrey replied, mounting his own horse. ‘At least insofar as those with murderous intent are concerned. Didn’t see a thing out of place. Perhaps we have got it wrong, guv’nor?’

  ‘Possibly.’ Ezra spurred Pharoah into a trot, mindless of the wet mud that flew up from his hooves. Merlin raced alongside them, splattered from head to foot. ‘But my instincts tell me otherwise.’

  ‘Right, well, if your instincts are what we’re using as a yardstick...’

  They did
n’t speak again until they had returned to the house and the privacy of Ezra’s rooms. Ezra threw off his mud-splattered clothing and made use of the hot water that Godfrey produced.

  ‘Fetch me something to eat, would you?’ Ezra asked, lifting his head and shaking droplets of water from his hair. It made him smile when it brought to mind Clio’s disinclination for ruining her bonnet by bobbing for apples. ‘I didn’t get the chance to eat at the luncheon.’

  Godfrey nodded and disappeared. He returned again with such speed that Ezra knew immediately that something was seriously wrong.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘It’s Miss Benton.’

  ‘What about her?’ Ezra barked.

  ‘She didn’t come back from the luncheon.’

  Ezra’s heart plummeted. ‘What do you mean, she didn’t come back? Of course she must have.’ But he knew from the stricken state of Godfrey’s features that she had somehow been left behind. ‘What in the world could have happened to her? She travelled there with my mother and so…’

  Without bothering to complete his sentence, Ezra pulled a clean shirt over his head and left the room with Merlin at his heels, whimpering in sympathy with Ezra’s growing concern. His mother had the chamber across the corridor from his and Ezra gave the door a perfunctory tap before letting himself in.

  ‘Ezra!’ The duchess was reclined on a chaise beneath the window but half rose from it to fix Ezra with a look of mild surprise. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’

  ‘Did Miss Benton return to the house in your carriage?’ Ezra asked without preamble.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a simple enough question.’ Ezra sucked in a sharp, nervous breath. If something had happened to her then time was of the essence and he couldn’t afford to waste a moment of it. ‘You took her up on the outward journey so presumably you remembered to bring her back with you.’

  ‘Well, no…That is to say, I…’