The Confessions of a Duchess (37 page)

“It is indeed,” Laura murmured, her mind boggling at the thought of Faye creeping through the priory to raid her stores. “I am shocked, Carrington. Even more so at the thought that you and Mrs. Carrington had planned to trap the duchess and reveal her extraordinary habits to the world!”

“Yes, madam,” Carrington said miserably. “Oh indeed, madam, it was so very bad of us, but her grace had treated us with the utmost contempt and cruelty!”

“I know,” Laura said. “I know what you suffered at Cole and I am sorry for it.” She thought about that very night and Faye’s vicious public condemnation of her own daughter.

It was true that Faye had not a single shred of generosity within her. Her voice softened and she smiled at him. “I do understand, Carrington.”

“Oh, thank you, madam!” Carrington said, looking as though he was about to cry with relief. “It was only when I got back that night and Mrs. Carrington said that you had not returned that I realized what a dreadful mistake I must have made. So I hurried back to the priory and opened the door again. But in the process I must have loosened some of the stones in the tower and—” He stopped again, looking as though he was about to expire with the upset of it all. “Oh, madam, when I heard you were injured…I was ready to give myself up to the constable!”

“Well, I am glad you did not,” Laura said. “At least that accident is one thing we cannot lay at Tom Fortune’s door.”

“No, madam,” Carrington said, “but if I might ask an enormous favor of you, madam…”

“Yes, Carrington?” Laura asked.

“Don’t tell Mr. Anstruther!” Carrington begged, his face shaking. “We have all observed how protective he is of you, madam, and I shudder to think what he would do if he discovered that I was responsible for hurting you!”

“You think he is protective of me, do you?” Laura said. A little smile touched her lips. If it had not been for that moment when Dexter had taken his leave of her she might have been inclined to tell the butler how very wrong he was, but now…She gripped her hands tightly together about the cup and felt its warmth. Now she did at least have a little hope.

“We think that he loves you, madam,” Carrington said, with dignity, “which is exactly how it should be.” He bowed. “If that is all, madam, and you feel that you can forgive me…”

“Of course,” Laura said. “Think no more of it, Carrington.”

“Thank you, madam,” Carrington said, and he went out and closed the door, leaving Laura alone to think of Dexter and pray he would be safe.

“LIZZIE, I AM SO VERY SORRY
,” Laura said. She was taking tea with Lady Elizabeth Scarlet and Alice Lister in the pump rooms. Fortune’s Folly was positively bristling with gossip that morning, for everyone was talking about the events of the previous night.

“I always knew that Tom was a scoundrel,” Lady Elizabeth said sadly, “but I had no idea that he was in so deep.” She was a little paler and quieter than usual, her natural vivacity subdued. “Oh, it was easy to pretend there was nothing wrong because Tom could be so charming and he was so likable—the exact opposite of Monty! But from childhood I remember he was always in scrapes of one kind or another and as he grew older so he became wilder…” She shook her head. “He lost money at cards and almost killed a man in a brawl on more than one occasion. We should have realized then that his propensity for violence would get him into bad trouble.”

“You could never have realized that he was associating with Mr. Sampson, nor where it would lead,” Laura said comfortingly.

“I suppose not.” Elizabeth fidgeted with her teacup. “Lord Waterhouse was telling me that they think Tom took money from Sampson and did his dirty work for him because Sampson paid his gambling debts. He killed Sir William Crosby on Sampson’s behalf.

Sampson was blackmailing Tom, but in the end Tom turned against him.”

“It was truly gruesome when Mr. Sampson’s body rolled off the bonfire,” Alice said, shuddering. “If I were the type of female to indulge in the vapors, that was the moment I would have chosen.”

“At least the Duchess of Cole fainted away and gave us all some peace,” Elizabeth said. “Poor Lydia! Tom always had the most terrible reputation, but to seduce the Duke of Cole’s daughter! I can scarce bear to think of it.”

“I hope that Lydia will be all right,” Alice said anxiously. “First to be betrayed by Mr. Fortune and then to be whisked off home in the middle of the night by her parents simply because they wish to avoid the scandal!”

“We must see what we can do for her,” Laura said. She had already decided that she would go to Cole and try to help Lydia. Her cousin’s reputation was in shreds but Lydia’s heart was broken, too, and she would need someone kinder than Faye to comfort her.

“I hope,” Laura continued, “that Sir Montague is bearing up, Lizzie?” Lady Elizabeth looked disgusted. “Oh, Monty does not deserve your sympathy, Laura. I can scarce accept his callousness. Do you know, he has already washed his hands of Tom? He even plans to take Tom’s pitiful little estate at Withenshaw and include it in the Dames’ Tax. His greed knows no limits!”

“Gracious,” Alice said involuntarily, “I knew he was very acquisitive but that is too much!”

“You had a fortunate escape there, Alice,” Lady Elizabeth said. “Not that you ever intended to accept Monty’s marriage proposal, I know.” She smiled wickedly. “And who would, when a man like Lord Vickery would be so much more fun?”

“Lord Vickery is a rake,” Alice said, coloring up furiously. She glanced at Laura. “I am sorry, Laura, for I know he is your cousin, but it is true!”

“Oh, do not apologize to me,” Laura said cheerfully. “I know exactly what Miles is like but I think he does have his good points, too.”

“One would have to look very hard for them,” Alice said crossly. “If one were interested enough to do so, which I am not!” She chopped up the sugar furiously with a teaspoon. “Have you had any news from Mr. Anstruther, Laura? Have they found Tom yet?

Are they returning home yet?”

“I am afraid it is a little too soon for news,” Laura said. She tried not to feel too despondent, knowing that the others were watching her and also knowing that Alice in particular needed her to keep their spirits up.

“I’ll wager that Mr. Anstruther is anxious to return as soon as possible,” Lady Elizabeth said, smiling. “We all saw the way that he kissed you last night, Laura! A pity that Nat did not go with Lord Vickery instead.”

“But then you would have no one to torment, Lizzie,” Laura said gently and saw Lady Elizabeth blush before she waved Nat Waterhouse aside with one elegant flick of her hand.

“Oh, Nat and I are old friends,” she said airily. “That is why we are forever squabbling with one another. It means no more than that.” Mr. Argyle, the master of ceremonies, bustled past the table. “Sir Montague’s latest declaration on the Dames’ Tax, ladies,” he said importantly. “Each single lady in the village is to pay a window tax of four shillings per window and a dog tax of two shillings per dog.”

“But I have half a dozen spaniels,” Lady Elizabeth protested, “and Monty knows it.

He has already taken all my allowance this quarter, the wretch!”

“And I have at least twenty-four windows!” Alice said, paling at the thought. “This really is too bad!”

As Mr. Argyle made his way around the room a ripple of anger and disquiet followed him as the ladies heard the news. Laura watched his progress thoughtfully.

“I have been thinking,” she said to Alice and Elizabeth, “that since my marriage I have neglected to help you in your struggles against the Dames’ Tax. It has been very remiss of me. But now I have an idea.” She hesitated. “It seems a little unfair to do this to Sir Montague when he has had such a terrible shock with regard to his brother—”

“Oh, do not let that stand in your way,” Elizabeth said bitterly. “Think of the window tax—think of my spaniels!”

“Very well, if you are sure,” Laura said. “Only this will hurt one of the things Sir Montague cares about the most.”

“Are we to sell off his horses?” Alice asked.

“No,” Laura said. “It is not as bad as that.”

“Then it must be his wine cellar,” Elizabeth said. “That is the only thing he seems to care for now.”

“Exactly,” Laura said. “I have a plan.”

“What will Mr. Anstruther think of you helping us?” Alice asked tentatively.

“Forgive me, Laura, but he does not seem the most indulgent of gentlemen when it comes to bending the law.”

Laura smiled ruefully. “Well, no, he is not. He will probably disapprove heartily. I am afraid that my plans seldom fit Dexter’s notions of proper behavior, but since he is absent at the moment he will not know.”

She poured more tea and started to explain her strategy, hoping fervently that she was right and that Dexter would not hear about the plan until it was far too late.

DEXTER AND MILES RODE OUT of Newcastle a week later on the road to the south. Tom Fortune had been apprehended trying to take ship for Germany and was in the city jail. A woman who claimed to be betrothed to Tom Fortune had given them plenty of information on his criminal activities once Miles had told her that Tom had apparently affianced himself to another girl in Yorkshire.

“Lord Liverpool will be pleased,” Miles said as the evening of the second day brought them down the Tune Valley and close to home. “Warren Sampson is dead and his murderer arrested. We have done a good job.”

“Yes,” Dexter said. “It might make up in some small part for my failure to capture Glory on my last case in these parts.”

Miles laughed. “You were never going to catch Glory, old fellow.”

“No,” Dexter agreed. “In her I really did meet my match.” He felt Miles’s gaze on him. Their friendship had been much restored through working together and because in true manly fashion they had not been required to talk about anything difficult and had simply been able to get on with the job. But now there was something Dexter wanted to ask.

“Miles,” he said slowly. “When did you first know that Laura was Glory?” There was a silence so long he thought that Miles was not going to answer. The question had raised a slight constraint between them because they had studiously been avoiding speaking of Laura in the whole time they had spent together.

“I did not know at the time,” Miles said at last, “but after a couple of years Nick Falconer came to me and asked me to help organize Laura’s pardon from Lord Liverpool. I think he did it for Hattie’s sake so that there was no danger to Laura in the future.”

“So Nick knew,” Dexter said slowly, “and you knew and Lord Liverpool knew, and none of you chose to tell me. Why was that?”

“Probably because we knew you were the one who would cut up rough,” Miles said, a little grimly. “You have a very clearly defined sense of what is right and wrong, Dexter.

You never bend.”

“No,” Dexter said. “I suppose I do not.” He thought of Laura telling him that they had both been on the same side, fighting for justice, but that he was too uncompromising to acknowledge it. She had been right, he thought. He had been damnably stubborn through fear of losing his principles just as his father had done.

The horses splashed through the ford on the road that led to Fortune Hall. Dusk was starting to fall.

“You admired Laura for what she had done, didn’t you?” Dexter said. He was thinking back to what Miles had said when they had been talking that day at Fortune Hall about Laura’s desire to help those in need.

“I was not the only one,” Miles said. “Once he had met her, Lord Liverpool admired her, too.” He laughed. “He was always more pragmatic than you, Dexter, more able to bend the rule of the law if it benefited him.”

They turned the horses into the long drive that led to Fortune Hall. The deer were grazing beneath the trees, alongside Mrs. Broad’s sheep and various other animals belonging to the villagers.

“You were right in what you said to me that day at the inn,” Dexter admitted. “Laura does deserve someone who loves and accepts her wholeheartedly for what she is and not someone who wants to change her to fit in with their notions of sense and rationality and proper behavior. I see that now.”

“Someone like you, perhaps,” Miles said, with a sideways glance at him. “You’re a fool, Dexter. It’s taken you long enough.” He sighed. “At least I don’t have to put a bullet through you now. You had better find Laura and tell her. You’ve wasted enough time.”

“I will,” Dexter said. “I’ll tell her just as soon as we have broken the bad news of his brother’s arrest to Sir Montague.” He shot Miles a look. “And will you be seeking out Miss Lister, Miles?”

Miles’s expression was discouraging. “Not I,” he said. “I’m for London. I hear word of a very, very rich nabob’s daughter, whose fortune makes Miss Lister’s seem almost paltry.” He urged his horse a little ahead before Dexter could reply.

They found Fortune Hall shrouded almost entirely in darkness. There were no servants about and they were obliged to leave the horses tied to the mounting post in the stable yard.

“Devil take it,” Miles said, as their knocks on the front door went unheeded and they let themselves in, “I thought Monty might take his brother’s downfall badly but I had no idea it would be this bad.”

The two of them stumbled down the barely lit passage and into the hall. Sir Montague’s figure was barely discernible, sitting in a large oaken chair before the fire. His head was bowed and when they came in he did not even move.

“Monty!” Dexter said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Monty, old chap!” Sir Montague looked up, his face tragic in the firelight. “Dexter. Miles. How are you?”

Miles and Dexter exchanged a look. “Bad news, I’m afraid, Monty,” Dexter said awkwardly. “We caught up with Tom at Newcastle. He’s in the jail there—” He stopped as Sir Monty nodded gently.

“Well, he can expect no help from me,” he said. “Damned scoundrel.” He looked up, his tone morose. “Besides, I have more serious matters than Tom’s misdemeanors to attend to. Those wretched women! You cannot conceive what they have done now.” Dexter frowned, wondering if the shock of discovering his brother’s criminality had turned Sir Montague’s mind. “What women, Monty?”