The Black Duke's Prize (25 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Enoch

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"We can do worse than club you, Your Grace," came another
voice from behind him. What was obviously the muzzle of a pistol was pressed
against the back of Nicholas's skull. After a moment his hands were wrenched
painfully, and the ropes tightened again.

DuPres looked at him. "As I said, what I truly want is revenge.
Crestley Hall would have been an easy way for me to gain more influence with
your snobbish friends, but it's hardly a necessity." He leaned forward,
his countenance going ugly. "You took my pride, you took Crestley Hall, and
you've taken Kate," DuPres said with a snarl. "You ruined me."
He smiled, the expression ghastly. "I only wish to do the same to you. To
both of you."

"Leave Katherine out of this;" Nicholas replied hotly,
twisting his hands in the ropes, abruptly more than merely angry.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself about her." DuPres sighed and
set the papers down. "I don't even think she likes you. She did try to
shoot you. You thought it was Kate, didn't you? I saw that little play. Her
shot nearly killed my horse, outside, past the hedge. I'm the one who
almost
killed
you." He hit Nicholas across the face with
his fist.
"I
should
have killed you."

"You bastard," Nicholas countered, tasting blood from his cut
cheek. That was why the shot had twisted him forward. It had come from behind,
through the window. His mother had been
right
when she'd invented an
assassin. "You're mad."

Old, comfortable black temper seeped back into his bones. In fact, he
couldn't remember ever being quite so angry before. When her uncle had taken
Kate, he'd had things to do, to prepare for, and the threat had seemed
something he could prevent by his actions. This, though, was different. DuPres
wanted her, and he had to sit and listen to this madman's twisted schemes, and
he didn't like it. Not at all.

DuPres shrugged, his neck vanishing beneath the high points of his
shirt. "Perhaps I am mad. Doesn't signify, though." He pulled out a
second piece of paper. "This will be delivered to Hampton House in the
morning." He took a breath. " 'Dear Miss Ralston, I have returned
just this morning from Crestley, and am troubled to inform you that I must meet
with you at once regarding an unforeseen complication. If you are unable to
come to my offices at 36 Drapney Lane this morning, I will make an attempt to
see you at Hampton House this afternoon. Signed, J. B. Gladstone.' "

Of course Katherine wouldn't wait all day for Gladstone to make an
appearance at Hampton House. Even if there was some concern over his own
disappearance; Nicholas thought, a problem with Crestley would be more than she
could ignore. Kate would walk straight into DuPres's trap. "I hope you
realize, DuPres, that you hold your death warrant in your hands,"
Nicholas said ' coldly.

"You began this, at White's. This is your doing, Sommesby. All of
it. But in the end, I will win. And your precious Kate will wish she'd never
set eyes on you."

"You underestimate her," Nicholas answered.

Francis shook his head. "A female? I doubt it." He nodded at
the man standing over Nicholas's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning,
Sommesby.
 
Reid?"

Before Nicholas could muster a suitably insulting retort, the pistol
came down on the back of his skull and he blacked out.

 

 

 

20

 

By morning Katherine was nearer hysteria than she had ever been in her
life. The Baron of Rensport had discovered Ulysses in the hands of a young
street urchin just before dusk, but the boy claimed he had found the stallion
wandering several miles from Hampton House. Something was wrong, terribly
wrong, and if Nicholas was hurt . . . She couldn't even stand to think of it.

Everyone seemed to know that the Duke of Sommesby was missing, and most
of the members of the
ton
had appeared on the Hamptons' doorstep during
the past twelve hours, ostensibly with a word of comfort, but more likely to
make certain they had the latest
on dit
about Nicholas. What a coup to
be there if and when word arrived of the Black Duke's demise. Lady Belle of
Dorchester had nearly tom her skirts in her hurry to leave after Prince George
had sent a note that everything possible was being done to fmd "Cousin
Nicky."

Louisa had stayed with Katherine all night, and without her friend Kate
thought she would have gone mad. Her godparents had spent most of the evening
and morning trying to fend off her callers, and except for a moment here and
there she had seen almost nothing of them. Louisa made her sit down to
breakfast, but she could only pick at a piece of dry toast and sip her tea.

"I'm sorry, Louisa, I'm being such a peagoose," she muttered,
wiping her eyes.

"Nonsense," Louisa said firmly, putting an arm around her
shoulders. "And everything will be all right, I'm certain of it."

"Yes," Thomas said from the doorway. Althaea and Reg entered
behind him as he took Kate's fingers. "For all we know, this could be
another of Nick's famous stunts, and he'll come riding up to the door at any
moment in the company of a caravan of gypsy dancers."

"If that's all this is, then I shall shoot him again," Kate
declared, then blanched when Reg raised an eyebrow at her. She had forgotten
they didn't know the truth of that episode.

"I thought so," the captain murmured, leaning down to take her
hand.

"Please don't tell," she whispered, looking up at him. He
smiled. "No worries, Kate. That's likely what brought the sap-skull to his
senses."

"What are you two whispering about?" Louisa queried, raising
her own hand and then hitting Reg on the arm

when he delayed a moment before taking it.
      
.

The captain kissed her knuckles. "I was merely informing Kate that
I will be escorting you home and that Thomas and Thaea will stay with her this
morning, my sweet."

"That's not necessary," Katherine protested weakly, relieved
that they wouldn't be abandoning her.

Louisa kissed her cheek. "Of course it's necessary.

We'll be back this afternoon." She turned to Thomas. "Let us
know the moment you hear anything."

He nodded. "We will."

For the next two hours Katherine jumped every time Rawlins opened the
front door. Julia Varon sent over a note saying that she was staying at Varon
House and would immediately inform her if she received any news. Katherine had
barely finished relaying the duchess's missive to her companions when Rawlins
scratched at the door again. "Good God," Thomas muttered, rising,
"doesn't
anyone
have anything better to do than pester you?"
When he opened the door, Rawlins wordlessly handed over another note on his
silver tray and bowed as he left.

"I think I'll go lie down for a bit," Katherine said with a
scowl, as the distinctive voice of Margaret Dooley, the Baroness of Fens,
sounded at the front door.

Althaea nodded. "We'll make your excuses," she said with a
smile.

''Thank you." Katherine rose and headed out the side door before
any of the next round of guests could see her. She paused on the landing of the
back staircase to open the note Rawlins had handed her. "Oh, not
now," she muttered, feeling what was left of her world caving in around
her. If someone as efficient as Gladstone had run into a complication at
Crestley, it must be serious indeed. Abruptly she stopped, frowning. Someone
as efficient as Gladstone would not have wasted time by sending a note. And he
undoubtedly would have known about the Duke of Sommesby's disappearance and
would have considered that to be his first priority.

Katherine started back into the drawing room to fetch Thomas, then
stopped again at the Baroness of Fens's laugh. There was no time for
explanations or excuses. Hurriedly she scribbled a note to her godparents and
left . "Gladstone's" note sitting next to it on the hall table. Next
she hurried into Lord Neville's study and procured his pair of pistols, though
she shuddered at the sight of them. The note felt like a trick of some kind,
and she was not going to be taken by surprise again. It was someone else's turn
for that. She dumped the pistols in her pockets and climbed out the study
window into the garden.

The groom looked dismayed when she insisted that he saddle Winter and
that she was not waiting for an escort, but Katherine had the feeling that she
would find Nicholas at the address she had copied from the letter, and she was not
going to wait. They could follow her later. She had a rescue to perform.

He had been waiting for the sound all morning, and when the rusty door
squeaked and rattled open Nicholas knew it would be Kate coming in. After
regaining consciousness sometime past midnight he had tried to free himself,
but that Reid fellow apparently had had a great deal of practice at tying
knots, and all Nicholas had succeeded in doing was rubbing his wrists raw.
DuPres had arrived after dawn but had only acknowledged his prisoner long
enough to make certain the rag tied over his mouth was secure and still jammed
halfway down his throat.

Unused to feeling helpless, and terrified for Katherine's safety at the
hands of Francis DuPres, Nicholas could only watch as she stepped into the dim
warehouse. She walked forward slowly, her tired expression tempered by more
than a touch of wariness. It looked as though she had come alone, and he cursed
her godparents for not keeping an eye on her. Desperate to warn her, he yelled
at the top of his lungs, managing to produce a muffled bellow through the dirty
gag, and she turned in his direction with a start.

"Nicholas!" she screamed, and ran toward him.

He felt rather than heard DuPres come up behind him.

"Welcome, Kate," the small man said, and lifted a pistol to
point it at Nicholas's head. "Stop there, why don't you?" he
suggested, as Reid stepped out of the shadows on the left.
               
.

Katherine stopped. "Are you all right, Nicholas?" she asked,
her voice shaking.

He nodded, and DuPres pulled the gag loose. "Get out now,
Kate," Nicholas ordered hoarsely as soon as he could speak.

"I don't think so," DuPres interrupted. "I'm not through
with either of you yet." He took a step forward to stand beside Nicholas.
"Kate, I'm going to kill the Duke of Sommesby," he said
calmly.

"No!" she wailed, taking another step
closer.

"Kate, don't—" Nicholas began, but DuPres
cuffed him on the side of the head with the barrel of the pistol, and he reeled
in the chair.

"I'm not without compassion, however,"
DuPres continued. "I'll make you a trade."

"Anything," Katherine returned, balling
her hands into fists. Fleetingly Nicholas wished she had brought a vase with
her.

"Have Sommesby sign the Crestley Hall deed
over to me."

"Never," Nicholas said with a growl.

"Crestley . . . " Kate echoed faintly,
her face white. DuPres flashed his repulsive smile. "The Duke of Sommesby
or Crestley Hall. You may have one or the other." The pistol pressed
against Nicholas's temple. "But not both."

"Nicholas," she whispered.

"Don't do it, Kate. He'll kill me
anyway," Nicholas answered, wishing he could hold her, get her away from
that place and that madman with his silent henchman before she was hurt.

"You have my word," DuPres said
reasonably. "Crestley for Varon. Just tell him to sign it over."

She looked at Nicholas, and with all his might he
willed her to turn and run. Instead she turned to DuPres and nodded. "All
right."

DuPres motioned to Reid, who strolled over behind
Nicholas and freed his right hand. Nicholas clenched it, trying to get enough
feeling back into his fingers that he could hit Francis DuPres. The parchment
turning the deed over was put in front of him, and he shook his head.
"No."

"Nicholas, sign it," Katherine urged
unsteadily.

"No. It's all you've ever wanted. I won't sign
it away," he returned, taking a swipe at DuPres. Reid grabbed him by the
hair and jerked his head back.

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