Lady Hope and the Duke of Darkness: The Baxendale Sisters Book 3 (14 page)

Daniel grinned. “Always a subject worthy of discussion.”

After Daniel left Saint Ouen, a lone rider followed his carriage. Daniel took out his pistol and cocked it. The horseman hung back, not attempting to reach him. He was still there at dusk. When night forced Daniel to stop and put up at a ramshackle inn, the rider had disappeared.

Weeds grew out of broken roof tiles, and the interior of the inn held little in the way of comforts, but the chicken served at dinner was well cooked and the brandy went down smoothly. In his cell-like room, aware that Jean-Baptiste’s warning would not be an idle one, Daniel eyed the broken lock on the door. Propping the back of a wooden chair under the door latch, he blew out the candle and lay back on the narrow cot. He closed his eyes.

Some hours later, when the moon was high in the sky, the chair fell with a bang to the tiled floor. Daniel grabbed his pistol from under his pillow as the door swung open. He rolled onto his feet, his gun aimed at the door. “Enter at your peril,” he growled in French as he ducked.

The whistle of a knife passed over his head where he’d recently stood. It stuck with a twang in the wall behind him. Daniel fired a shot at the door then cursed at the sound of footsteps running away.

Daniel ran after him. Outside the inn, clouds drifted over the face of the moon, plunging the landscape into darkness. Frustrated, he searched the shadows for movement. Too late, he caught sight of a swift shadow as a horse galloped away into the night.

He returned to his room, and lit a spill. He had the tallow candle alight by the time the innkeeper in his nightgown and cap crept in, clutching a poker. “
Qu’est-ce qui se passe ici?
” he cried, panting with alarm.

Candlelight revealed a blood trail down the corridor and out the door. He’d wounded him. Daniel returned to calm the irate innkeeper and assure him there’d be no more trouble. Closing the door, Daniel replaced the chair and reloaded his pistol. It would be a long night.

In the morning, his driver advised him that a wheel of his carriage had been jimmied off. Daniel swore. “Can it be fixed?”

The man scratched his head. “The blacksmith says it can, monsieur
le duc
, but it will take time.”

“When it’s done, you’ll find me at breakfast.”

By his third cup of coffee, the blacksmith came in, hat in hand and bowed. “It is done, monsieur, and your carriage awaits.”

“
Bien joué.
” Daniel rose and tossed him a bag full of coins.

Chapter Thirteen

Sophie replied to Hope’s letter. Hope hurried to her bedchamber, slit the missive open, and eagerly read it. Sophie wrote,
I have adopted a program of self-improvement and sally forth each morning in search of knowledge
… Hope paused, wondering what exactly Sophie was doing to improve her mind. She read on…
Whilst Daniel is away in France, I have little else to do
.

Daniel had gone to France.
Hope blinked in bafflement and went to stand at the window, drawing back the curtain. Below in the gardens, a showy bank of pink and white azaleas edged the lawn, the hedge of rhododendrons along the garden path a blaze of purple. Mercy romped into view and tossed a ball to Wolf.

Faith’s confidence in Hope’s ability to charm Daniel was sorely misplaced. Daniel had not suffered any desire to see her before he left England. She let the curtain drop and turned away, her heart aching as if from a blow. She would not spare another thought for him!

Seated at her desk, she perused the rest of Sophie’s news.
Fortunately, before Daniel departed, I was able to persuade him to let Mrs. Crisp go. I am now free to visit you unencumbered, which I should like very much to do
. Sophie’s neat cursive writing crammed every inch of the page.
And I have already purchased a very smart pelisse in cherry red with a spotted ocelot trim, which Mrs. Crisp would not have approved of! I shall arrive on Wednesday next by stage. If you could please meet me in Tunbridge Wells. I trust that is acceptable to you
.
I can’t wait to see you again! Please thank your parents for their generosity.

Stage? Hope doubted the wisdom or the necessity for it. But it would be good to have Sophie’s company. Already planning how they would spend their time together, Hope took a sheet of bond and dashed off a reply, folded, and addressed it then went to her father’s study for sealing wax. She gave the letter to the footman to post and went in search of her mother. Mama hadn’t warmed to the idea of Sophie’s visit. She was of the view that Sophie was not precisely what she seemed. Hope trusted her opinion would change on closer acquaintance.

She found her mother with the housekeeper by the linen cupboard. “I don’t know why you couldn’t invite one of your other acquaintances,” Mama said. “What about Amy Tyndale? She’s a well-behaved young woman with excellent connections.”

“I doubt Amy’s mother would permit her to leave London during the height of the Season.”

Mama held up a sheet with a torn border. “Add this to the mending pile, Mrs. Pease.” She took Hope’s arm, and they left the housekeeper to her work.

“I’m in complete agreement with Lady Tyndale,” Mama said as they climbed the stairs. “But for Mercy’s mishap, we would still be in Mayfair awaiting happy news. And while I’m hopeful that your dear sister hasn’t been seriously harmed by her experience, it is most frustrating how your father has now happily settled in here for an extended stay. I am in despair asking myself when we will return to London.”

“Father says one should marry with a cool head. Do you agree with him, Mama?

“It’s become more fashionable to marry for love, but it is still seen as a business arrangement amongst most of the
ton
, Hope. Such marriages are advantageous, but they too can become love matches, especially where there is affection, or at least respect for the man you marry, and, especially, if he can offer you a secure and comfortable life.”

The notion of a business arrangement struck a cold shaft in Hope’s chest. Becoming the property of her husband, forced to obey him in all things, made her feel very vulnerable. And the more she thought about it, the more frustrated and angry it made her.

The carriage was sent into Tunbridge Wells to collect Sophie. Daniel would be angry when he learnt that she traveled by stage. As Hope stood with the family to receive her at Highland Manor, she wondered why Sophie hadn’t used the duke’s carriage. She seemed determined to remain independent. Such freedom was something Hope had never experienced, but of course, Sophie was used to living that way. Hope felt a little envious of her.

Sophie may have been careless of her safety, traveling without even a maid, but her clothes were in the first stare of fashion. She had an eye for what suited her. The hat brought out the deep brown of her eyes.

“How lovely it is here.” Sophie spun around to take in the showy spring gardens. “I can’t imagine you ever wanting to leave this heavenly place.”

“Some don’t wish it,” Hope’s father said, drawing a stern gaze from her mother.

Entering the parlor, Sophie fell to her knees with a cry of delight to pat Wolf and stroke the cat. “I do miss the animals on the farm.”

Mercy grinned, but Mama raised her eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Hope.

Sophie made a firm friend of Charity after she admired her paintings, however, declaring the one of the bluebells in the wood to be her favorite.

Her mother would be more difficult to win over. Sophie was unconventional, careless of both appearances and rank. It was understandable, of course, given her upbringing, and Hope rather liked her for her unaffected, natural behavior. But of course, her parents did not.

After tea, she and Sophie walked to the river and sat in the shade of a willow, the quiet broken by birdsong and the rushing water. Hope broached the subject of Daniel’s trip to France.

“He has gone on some business for the government,” Sophie replied.

She wanted to ask how long he would be gone, but resisted. A pain squeezed Hope’s heart at the distance that lay between them.

Sophie twirled a twig in her hands. “Daniel expressed his disappointment at having missed you the night of the king’s soirée.”

Did he?
Hope leaned forward to clasp her knees. “The evening was quite ruined when Pamela spilt a drink on my dress.”

“Do you think she did it on purpose?”

“It’s possible. She’s determined to marry Winslow.”

“Then her plan has failed. Amy said Lady Pamela was sent home in disgrace.”

“Oh, poor Pamela.”

Sophie stared at her. “How can you feel sorry for the wretched girl?”

“I suppose it’s because she’d under a great strain. She’s so anxious to please her father.”
As am I.

Hope ruthlessly dissected a willow frond, scattered the leaves and dusted her hands. “Was there a particular reason your half-brother wished to see me?”

Sophie shook her head and smiled. “He keeps close counsel in matters of the heart.”

“Matters of the heart?” Hope repeated in a faint voice.

Sophie became annoyingly mysterious. “I can’t speak for him.”

Hope stared at her, confused, her heart beating hard.

“Daniel is a kind, decent man. Too much so, in my opinion.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“One must put one’s own needs first sometimes, Hope. Life is so short.”

“Yes, you’re right of course.” She must fight for what she wanted as her sisters had done before her. Hope stiffened at the challenge.

Charity chose that moment to call from the top of the path. With a moan of annoyance Hope rose to return to the house.

A grand coach stood in the drive with four matching chestnut horses, their heads adorned with white plumes. The crest on the glossy deep-blue door panel gave clue to the owner.

“It’s the Duke of Winslow,” Hope said in a faint voice.

****

There was no sign of the rider who’d followed him yesterday. Daniel trusted he’d been hurt badly enough to lose interest. He leaned back as the carriage trundled through the Loire valley on the way to Château Ténèbres. He’d done what he came for. He’d delivered his message to de Villèle, although what the prime minister decided to do with it lay now in the lap of the gods.

His friend’s parting remark ensured Daniel’s thoughts remained fixed on Hope. Vivid details gathered through the previous months, appeared in his mind’s eye, fresh enough to plague him and make him restless. The sweet curve of her lovely mouth when she smiled, the endearing way she remained determinedly fixed in her opinions, and how charming she was when she recanted, as if she’d said too much, while her astonishingly blue eyes searched his to uncover a truth. Dammit, he’d wanted to laugh with her, to take her in his arms, to make love to her. The carriage entered the gates of his estate. He opened the window to view the changes with great interest as the carriage trundled through the park.

The house came into view. Above the entry, the tower was complete down to the last shingle, the conical walls a soft gold in the late afternoon sun. Doves settled on the roof. He drew in the familiar scents of home: cypresses, flowering fruit trees, and freshly scythed lawns. Gentle green hills rolled away into violet shadows. Daniel took it all in as if through new eyes while suffering a burning desire to show it to Hope and further enjoy the beauty of his home through her.

He alighted from the carriage to see Alphonse, as gnarled as an old oak, appear through the door.

“There may be trouble, Alphonse. Have Verdon, and his brother, Marc, stand guard while I am here,” Daniel said. “There are those who do not wish me to reach English shores. Both men will accompany me to the ship.”

“As you wish.” Alphonse nodded unruffled by the news. The old man had been through too much in his life to be rattled.

Daniel went straight to the stables. Tonnerre’s stall was empty.

When Anton emerged from the stable’s dim interior, Daniel searched his face for a sign that all was well, but although he was talented with horses, the man was annoyingly inscrutable. He was gripped by fear, dreading bad news. “Where is Tonnerre?”

“Come and see for yourself, Your Grace.”

Anton led him from the stable block to a paddock. The sun brightened the gelding’s coat, turning it to warm honey as the horse danced across the grass toward them.

“Tonnerre!” Daniel vaulted the fence. His horse nuzzled a velvety welcome against his hands. “
Bonjour, ma beauté
.” Daniel’s voice caught in his throat.

Anton walked up behind him. “He has made a surprisingly good recovery as you see.”

“He can be ridden?”

“
Absolument
. The leg has healed well.”

“You are a magician, Anton. I shall reward you handsomely, but first…” Daniel swung himself up onto the horse’s back and coiled his fingers in the coarse mane. He nudged Tonnerre’s flank. “Go,
ma beauté!
” Tonnerre leapt forward and cantered across the grass, the sweet, spring breeze blowing into Daniel’s face.

As Daniel walked the horse back to where Anton waited, he remembered his conversation with Hope. She’d expressed the view that he needed a pet, and she didn’t believe a horse qualified. Well, she was wrong, and he yearned deep in his gut to bring her here and show her why.