The Duke's Legacy Page 4

  “And so these apparent accidents have become more frequent in recent months?”

  “Yes.”

  “From which we must infer someone doesn’t wish you to choose a husband?”

  She nodded with obvious reluctance. “Yes, but I can’t see who would benefit, that’s my problem.”

  “Lady Abigail, should this person be successful in doing away with you, who inherits your fortune?”

  Abbey bristled. “My Aunt Constance, as my mother’s sister and only living relative. My father had no siblings and there is no one, however distantly related, with a valid claim. My family doesn’t veer away from the female line inheriting, but my aunt and uncle are independently wealthy. Besides, they’ve been kindness itself and I couldn’t for a moment consider them as the guilty parties. Their lives have been completely disrupted by their responsibility for me but not once have they complained. On the contrary, they knew how distressed I was by my parent’s death, how discomposed by my subsequent situation, and they’ve done everything they can prepare me for what lays ahead.”

  “Calm yourself, Lady Abigail, I merely wish to establish the facts. What happens to the duchy if you are no more?”

  “The town house, hunting lodge and other smaller estates are all part of my father’s estate and would pass into my aunt’s hands. But the title would revert to the Crown, along with the Penrith estate, since obviously the property can’t be separated from the title.”

  It was Sebastian’s turn to stand and pace the room as he ruminated upon all he’d just learned. Lady Abigail remained silent, making no attempt to influence his thoughts. It was highly unusual, in his extensive experience of the species, for any woman to remain silent. However grave the circumstances, they always felt the need to fill silences with unnecessary chatter. Sebastian applauded Lady Abigail’s instinct to leave him to his cogitations.

  The incidents were becoming more desperate, closer together, and less well disguised. At first they had been so ingenious it would have been difficult to look upon any harm that befell Lady Abigail to anything other than misfortune. They had occurred in different locations, with a different set of people surrounding her on each occasion.

  And so it all came back to the question of whom?

  And why?

  The only answer to the latter had to be her considerable wealth. Someone wanted to inherit, before she had the chance to marry and produce an heir. But if she was adamant her uncle wouldn’t stoop to such measures, and had little need of the money anyway, then who else might have expectations?

  “Are you absolutely sure you’ve told me everything?” he asked, watching her closely as he waited for her response, looking for tell-tale signs to indicate she was holding something back.

  “Perfectly sure.” She met his gaze and held it. “My life has been far too isolated for me to make any enemies.”

  “Very well, I’m willing to assist you on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “In return, I require—”

  She stood to confront him, eyes blazing with angry disbelief. “You want payment?”

  “Yes indeed.” He stood to face her, valiantly trying not to smile. “But not in the monetary sense.”

  “Then what?”

  “If I solve this tantalising conundrum on your behalf then I intend to extract payment from you in the form of one kiss.”

  She blinked several times, as though she’s misheard him. “I beg your pardon.”

  “Come, Lady Abigail, surely I’m not the first gentleman who’s tried to steal a kiss. However, unlike my predecessors, I intend to earn it.”

  “I really don’t think…” Her words trailed off but her eyes continued to fire silver daggers of disapproval which bounced harmlessly off his amused expression.

  “I did warn you I’m a dangerous man.”

  “And I told you I wasn’t afraid of you.”

  He quirked a brow. “Prove it.”

  “Oh, very well then.” She threw back her head and sighed. “I don’t know what obscure point you’re trying to prove, but let’s be done with this nonsense.”

  She closed the distance between them, stood on tip-toe and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

  “Satisfied?” she asked, standing back and glaring at him.

  Sebastian chuckled. “If that’s your understanding of a kiss, m’lady, then you really have led a sheltered life. Come here.”

  Without waiting for her permission, he pulled her against him. Hard. Her body collided against the solidity his chest, producing a loud protest from Lady Abigail that didn’t sound terribly convincing. Sebastian suspected only the support of his arms prevented her knees from buckling beneath her as she frowned at him, confusion and alarm evident in her expression.

  With a raffish smile he allowed one of his hands to drift to her nape and his fingers to tangle with the wayward curls that had escaped their pins. The other framed her jaw, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her velvety lips, causing her to shudder and expel a deep sigh. Her eyes were open wide, making them appear enormous and far too large for the fragile face which they inhabited. But they held curiosity, and Sebastian thought he could detect the first stirrings of passion in their luminous depths. It was a combination he found completely irresistible.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips closing in on hers. “Such sensuous grace, such innocence.’

  His voice was a soft caress as his breath stroked her face and his lips captured hers. Not gently or persuasively but with a conviction that implied he had every right in the world to behave as he was. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, provocatively demanding her complete capitulation. It wasn’t long in coming. A man as experienced as Sebastian ought to make short work of bending one as vulnerable as Lady Abigail to his will, but he still felt ridiculously pleased with himself when she didn’t object. Instead her body melted against his, all traces of resistance evaporating as she inexpertly attempted to return his kiss.

  Her efforts did what nothing else had been able to manage and restored Sebastian’s wits. He abruptly released her. What in the name of Hades did he think he was about? He must still be foxed, or he would never have acted so rashly. His suggestion of a kiss had been made on a whim—one which he hadn’t taken the time to think through. He’d simply been curious to see if she possessed depth of courage and had wanted to gauge her reaction to his unusual request. Or was he still smarting from her cut at the ball the previous night? Whatever his motivation, he hadn’t been prepared for such ready acquiescence on her part. His body had responded to the contact with hers in a predictable fashion. That much he had anticipated—he just hadn’t been prepared for it to do so with such indecent haste.

  His arms fell to his sides. Lady Abigail appeared too dazed to stand without his support and stumbled awkwardly. He offered her his arm and assisted her to a chair. His hand briefly brushed the curve of her face as he coiled another escaped curl around his finger and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Call that a down-payment for the services I’m about to render. I’ll collect the residue when I’ve completed my work.”

  “You’re very sure of yourself, my lord.” She ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and slanted him a contemplative glance. “And what’s more, you’re no gentleman.”

  “My dear, if you came here in the expectation of finding such a person then you’ve been most grievously misdirected.”

  “Humph!”

  “We need to meet again and discuss the matter further,” Sebastian said, disciplining himself to concentrate on the reason for her visit. “I need a complete list of everyone connected to you who might have expectations in the event of your death, however tenuous. I also need a separate list of all the people present at each of the attempts on your life, including servants.”

  “Very well.”

  “Who, by the way, are the attorneys who have control of your affairs?” She gave him a name. “Good, I know someone there.”

 
; “Do you need to contact them? Should I write a letter of introduction?”

  “Good lord, no. That would only alert them. Besides, since you’re still under age they would take no notice of your missive and simply refer it to your uncle.”

  “Of course.” She shook her head. “I seem to have lost my wits.”

  Sebastian offered her a satirical grin. “I wonder why.”

  Lady Abigail glared haughtily and inverted her chin. “I’ll prepare the list but it might take a day or two. When can we meet again?”

  “You’re the one under constant guard. That being the case, how did you manage to come here today?”

  She abandoned her affronted expression and offered up an impish smile that he found enchanting. “My aunt and cousin were obliged to call upon the modiste responsible for my cousin’s trousseau. She’s to be married immediately after Christmas and so there’s much to be done. While in the modiste’s establishment, which most conveniently is situated just around the corner from here, I remembered my new bonnet would be ready for collection from the milliner’s today. Now,” she continued, a glint taking possession of her dancing eyes, “normally my aunt and cousin would be keen to give me their opinion on my purchase. Unfortunately there was the taxing question of precisely the right sort of lace for Bea’s pink evening gown to be considered. And so you will readily appreciate, they couldn’t tear themselves away. They wanted me to delay collecting my bonnet but I was most insistent I wished to wear it when we take tea with Lady Makin tomorrow. I assured my aunt that I would be quite safe in broad daylight with just Sally for company. I then skipped out before they could think of alternative arguments.”

  “I see.” Sebastian’s lips twitched and he made no attempt to hide his amusement.

  “I’m to meet them at twelve at Gunter’s Parlour for a restorative glass of ice-cream.”

  “Then you’d better make haste, for it’s almost that hour now.” Sebastian picked up her cloak, fastened it securely about her neck and pulled the hood over her curls.

  “Presumably you walk in the park?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Then see if you can lose your protectors on Wednesday morning. Come with your maid to the walk behind the Row. It’s usually deserted and so I’ll see you there, with your list, at eleven o’clock.” He smiled at her, already wondering quite what he had got himself into. And why. “Come now, I’ll see you safely out.”

  They collected Sally and he led them both through a series of passages that definitely didn’t lead anywhere near the front door or main parts of the house. Having checked the coast was clear, he made to usher them through the side door but Lady Abigail stayed him by placing her hand on his sleeve.

  “Lord Denver.”

  “What is it now?”

  “Thank you for listening to me and for offering your assistance. I already feel less anxious just by knowing you’ll be helping me.”

  “You’re entirely welcome.”

  He briefly touched her face, telling himself he would have resisted the temptation to offer her a more personal form of solace even if her maid hadn’t been avidly watching their interaction. When she looked at him like that, with her fathomless eyes brimming with confidence in him, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to quell her concerns. Good God, what a farrago! He wasn’t even touching her and yet she could still arouse him. A mere chit of a girl had no business making him react quite so enthusiastically. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, mainly because nothing quite like it had ever happened to him before, and certainly not with a lady of her age and situation. He turned away to open the door, feigning impatience.

  Lady Abigail, it seemed, wasn’t to be hurried. She looked up into his eyes, her expression deadly serious.

  “Be that as it may, I’m indebted to you, sir.”

  Without a further word she pulled her hood more closely about her head and walked through the door which he was holding open for her, her maid bustling along at her side.

  Chapter Four

  Sebastian contemplated the extraordinary morning’s events as he wended his way through the seemingly endless maze of service corridors in his house. He found himself in accord with Lady Abigail’s preference for short cuts when it took him several minutes, walking at a brisk pace, to reach his breakfast-parlour. Entering that room, he partook of a healthy meal but scarcely noticing what he ate, his mind still preoccupied with his unexpected guest’s revelations.

  Once he had satisfied himself Lady Abigail really was in danger, it was impossible for Sebastian to turn his back on her. Besides, he was bored. It had been some months since an interesting case had presented itself. Now that it had he was powerless to resist the challenge, even if it did mean placing himself frequently in Lady Abigail’s company. In the brief period that had elapsed since her departure he’d already convinced himself that any admiration he entertained towards her didn’t extend beyond her courage. She was too young to excite his amatory interest. He never dallied with unmarried girls and had no intention of becoming embroiled in a situation that could only end in his becoming leg-shackled.

  He wasn’t surprised his reputation had managed to reach the ears of one as closely guarded as Lady Abigail. All sorts of rumours abounded regarding his past and Sebastian did nothing to quell them. Rumour and speculation was better than people knowing he’d been one of Wellington’s most productive spies. Times were still uncertain and he’d made a lot of enemies during the course of his work. He’d flourished in that sphere, partly because of his ability with languages and a happy knack for thinking on his feet. Most significantly, his reckless disregard for his own welfare had seen him through the conflict with Napoleon with barely a scratch to show for it.

  Settling back into the rigid social structure of life within the ton was proving challenging. Sebastian found it impossible to take an interest in the latest on dits, or to pander to the scheming matrons and dredge up a show of enthusiasm for their dreary daughters. He withdrew behind a façade of haughty disinterest instead. His position and immense fortune were reasons enough for most people to excuse his attitude. Indeed, the more unobtainable he strove to become, the more tenaciously he was pursued by those with enough social ambition to ignore his eccentricities.

  Lady Abigail’s trifling difficulty was just the excuse he’d been seeking to delay the inevitable. Much as he hated to admit it, Sebastian’s sisters were right to remind him of his obligations on the marriage front. It was his duty to produce an heir, thus ensuring the continuance of the Denver dynasty, and he couldn’t invent reasons to prevaricate for much longer. Sebastian shuddered as he imagined this year’s crop of virginal debutantes, prettily deployed for his inspection. He could already anticipate their irksome giggling, lack of intellectual conversation, foolish simpering and childishly flirtatious overtures. Worse, he knew from bitter experience the entire rigmarole would leave him unmoved.

  Feeling totally justified in grasping this most convenient opportunity to temporarily absent himself from the fray, Sebastian returned his thoughts to Lady Abigail’s plight. In spite of her protestations to the contrary, her aunt and uncle had to be the prime suspects. No one else stood to gain financially from her demise, the title would revert to the Crown if Lady Abigail failed to produce an heir, so what motive could anyone else have to do away with her?

  Sebastian paused in his cogitations to remind himself things were seldom as they appeared at first glance. People bore grudges and harboured resentments for the most minatory of reasons. His own first sight of Lady Abigail had been a shock, albeit a pleasant one. Wealth, position, beauty and courage. It was a potent combination likely to stir up malevolent feelings and the spiteful desire to right perceived wrongs.

  His breakfast complete, Sebastian made his way to his library and dealt with the matters of business awaiting his attention. He dictated letters, sorted through the pile of invitations, discarding almost all of them with barely a glance, and reeled off a list of tasks for his secretary to attend t
o. All this took less than one-tenth of his attention. The rest of his mind was still engaged with Lady Abigail’s problems and the best way to go about resolving them.

  As afternoon turned to early evening Sebastian, aware that Lady Abigail’s aggressor was becoming increasingly frantic to finish his work prior to the commencement of the season proper, took immediate action. Putting aside his papers, he prepared to leave the house. There was someone he needed to consult regarding Lady Abigail’s affairs and he suspected he knew exactly where to find him at this hour.

  Sebastian sauntered the length of St. James’s Street. He acknowledged acquaintances and stopped to pass the time of day with several of them, skilfully avoiding anyone who appeared intent upon delaying him for too long. Eventually reaching Whites, he entered the club and had the satisfaction of discovering his quarry ensconced in a leather armchair, engrossed in a newspaper.

  “Evening, Anthony,” said Sebastian, taking the chair opposite his friend.

  Anthony Deverill, youngest of the Earl of Newbury’s siblings, put aside his paper and grinned. “What you are doing about at this God-forsaken hour, Seb?”

  “Looking for you.”

  Anthony raised both brows. “What sort of scrape have you got yourself into that requires my sharp legal brain to save your skin? Being sued for breach of promise?” he suggested with a wicked grin.

  Sebastian laughed. “Good God, I hope not. My purpose in seeking you out owes rather more to the hypothetical.”

  “Then what, hypothetically, can I assist you with?” Anthony raised his hand to attract a waiter.

  Anthony and Sebastian had been at Oxford together and were firm friends. Anthony, most conveniently, was now a partner in the law firm patronised by the Duke of Penrith’s executors. Sebastian wouldn’t ask his friend to reveal confidential information regarding the estate, any more than he would betray Lady Abigail’s confidence by explaining his interest in the Penrith affairs. Instead he put his faith in Anthony’s awareness of his integrity and forged ahead with his first question.