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Authors: Wendy Soliman

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Nick steered her into the tack room. It was vacant at this early hour and afforded them some protection from the elements. Succinctly he outlined the astonishing conclusions he and Mr. Gibson had reached regarding Fabian’s crucial role in the workings of the stud. When he ran out of words, Alicia’s head was spinning. She felt the colour drain from her face as the full impact of his theory struck home. It supplied a believable reason why her cousin had offered for her and why someone might wish her dead. But were she to accept it, she must also accept that her uncle arranged for her to be attacked.

“Are you all right, Miss Woodley? I realise my suspicions must have shaken you, but you don’t look at all the thing. Should I send Gibson to fetch your maid?”

“No, no.” She brushed her hand across her brow and took several deep calming breaths. Nick moved to sit beside her. Mindless of Mr. Gibson’s presence, he took her hand and rubbed it briskly between his own. “I’m perfectly well. Your speculations have come as a bit of a shock, that’s all. I comprehend your logic but don’t see how Fabian could have been used for so long without my knowledge.”

“When do the coverings take place?”

“When the mares are fully receptive, obviously.” She felt her earlier pallor being replaced by yet another fiery blush.

“I meant at what time of the day, Miss Woodley.” A mocking smile hovered about his lips.

“Oh, I see.” Her blush spread to the tips of her ears. Nick’s smile developed into a teasing grin. She’d been able to speak about these matters with professional detachment whilst involved with the stud, but Nick’s primitive expression reminded her a little too graphically of last night for her comfort. “Usually during the course of the morning.”

“When you are engaged with your duties at the village school?”

“Well, yes, but I’d still know.”

“How?”

“Well, the grooms. They talk.”

“The men your uncle dismissed, Miss Woodley. What were their duties?”

She nodded with reluctant comprehension. “They worked in the covering barn.”

“Well, there you are then. And the new men employed to replace them are totally loyal to your uncle. I gather that no one who doesn’t work in the covering barn is permitted to observe the activities there.”

“Yes, but that’s normal. Only people Shalimar knows handle him at such times, to prevent distracting him.”

“Quite. It’s all too easy for a rampant stallion to become distracted at such a vital moment. Only think how disastrous that could be.”

Alicia tossed the hair over her shoulder. “I dare say you’re an authority on the subject, Your Grace.”

They locked gazes. She was damned if she’d be the first to look away and prepared herself to stare him out. Only when Mr. Gibson cleared his throat loudly did she appreciate how peculiar her behaviour must seem to him and finally dropped her eyes.

“If I’m right, it must have been relatively easy for your uncle to keep his secret.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but I feel foolish for not suspecting anything. It seemed plausible enough when he dismissed those men, and I didn’t question his decision.” She lifted her shoulders. “What with the virus meaning we had to turn mares away for the whole season, economies had to be made.”

“Quite so.” Nick paused. “And I believe there are mares here at present waiting to be introduced to Shalimar. Or should I say Fabian.”

“Yes, it’s interesting that you should mention that.”

“Is there something on your mind, Miss Woodley?”

“Well, it’s just that I overheard one of the grooms advising my uncle yesterday that the mares were ready. Once they give the word, Shalimar is usually called upon immediately. But my uncle told them to leave it for another day.” She lifted her eyes to Nick’s, frowning. “Why would he have done that?”

“Because he thinks we’re leaving in the morning and doesn’t wish us to be a party to the covering. Well, Gibson, shall we oblige him?”

“You’re leaving?” Alicia could have kicked herself for the note of dismay that crept into her tone.

“We’ll give every appearance of doing so straight after breakfast. And you ought to go to the village school as usual, if your health permits it. We’ll meet there and come back here via the back lanes to see what’s what.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t wish to confront my uncle with these allegations unless I have absolute proof of their validity.”

“And I wouldn’t ask it of you.”

“This is all very distressing.” She swiped a hand across her brow. “My uncle has been good to me in many ways. I must think carefully before suggesting that he’s behaved dishonourably for fear of oversetting my aunt. She doesn’t enjoy good health, you understand.”

“I understand perfectly. Don’t upset yourself with unnecessary explanations.”

“We’ll need to use your carriage horses in order to reach the barn.” Alicia tore her eyes away from Nick’s, endeavouring to concentrate on the business in hand. In spite of the seriousness of his allegations, when he was sitting this close to her it was damnably difficult to think about anything other than their activities of the previous evening. She suspected, from the mischievous glint in his eyes, that his mind was similarly occupied. “It’s too far to travel on foot and the paths are too narrow even for a gig.”

“No, we can’t use my horses. They would stand out. But there’s an inn we can put up at and I dare say we can hire more suitable nags there.”

“But won’t we be noticed at the inn, guv’nor?” Gibson lifted his shoulders. “You know wot it’s like. Everywhere you go, people fawn all over you.”

Alicia harrumphed, turning her supercilious reaction into a cough when Nick directed a sardonic glance her way.

“I dare say word of our presence there will spread but it’s unlikely to reach Woodley’s ears before our business is complete. But are you sure it would be wise for you to ride, Miss Woodley? You’re still weak from your injuries. Perhaps you should remain at the school, and Gibson and I will carry out the clandestine investigations alone.”

“Certainly not! You’d never find the way unaided. It’s quite overgrown.”

“In that case we’d welcome your company. But you’ll oblige me by spending today resting and recovering your strength. You look completely done up. Obviously the party last night, all that unaccustomed activity, tested your strength.”

“Undoubtedly.” She turned a scornful glance in his direction.

Annoyingly Nick parried it with another of his raffish smiles.

“And if you’re unable to join us at the inn because you’re indisposed, perhaps you’d have the goodness to send Will in your place. Presumably he’ll be able to guide us to the appropriate path.”

“Indeed, but I don’t anticipate that being necessary,” she said in a cold tone. “I can assure you that I’m in possession of sufficient wits to direct you to the right spot without swooning.”

“I never imagined it would be otherwise,” he said gently. “I’m merely concerned about you overexerting yourself.”

He spoke with due solemnity but Alicia was left with the distinct impression that he was mocking her. She felt her temper rising as a consequence. Here was she, feeling awkward but doing her best to remain dignified in the aftermath of their activities. She didn’t even hold it against him that he’d only bedded her to win a wager. But instead of following her example, he appeared to find the entire situation diverting. In spite of Mr. Gibson’s rapt attention to their exchanges she was no longer prepared to hold her tongue. She was formulating the appropriate words in her head when a footman materialised and bowed before Nick.

“The master’s compliments, Your Grace. He says to advise you that his man of business has arrived and waits upon your pleasure.”

“Inform your master that I’ll attend him when I have broken my fast.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and backed away.

“I wonder what got him out of his bed at such an ungodly hour,” Nick said. “We’ve been kicking our heels these three days, waiting for him to honour us with his presence, and now he arrives before cockcrow. What can it mean?”

“Only one way to find out,” Gibson said.

“Indeed. Miss Woodley, shall we return to the house and break our fast together?”

“Thank you, no. I still have apples to distribute and then I must attend my patients in the barn.” She spoke without looking in his direction.

“As you wish.” Nick’s brow was invaded by a frown, from which Alicia drew some satisfaction. Presumably few of his conquests treated him with such stiff formality after the event.

“Gibson, escort Miss Woodley on her rounds. Ensure she’s not left unattended until we get to the bottom of this thing.”

“You cannot suppose my life to be in danger whilst I’m on the estate,” Alicia said hotly. “Anyway, I have no wish for my routine to be interrupted.”

“And I’ve already told you that it would be most unwise to relax your guard. There’s no telling who might be in the assassin’s pay.” Nick bowed formally and turned to leave her, seemingly satisfied that his orders would be adhered to. “Gibson won’t get in your way. I trust him to remain vigilant, and no one will get past him.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” She responded to his bow with a curtsey of equal formality, her temper abating slightly. It was good of him to be so concerned for her safety. All that remained now was for her to impress upon him the need to act upon that concern a little less tyrannically.

“Be sure to obey my dictate,” he said to her in a whispered aside, his tone velvety smooth. “You’ll have me to answer to if you don’t do as you’re told. And I ought to warn you that you won’t enjoy my punishments.”

Alicia was itching to give him a piece of her mind. Catching sight of Mr. Gibson’s gleeful expression, she made do with a hostile glare. “Don’t let me keep you from your breakfast, Your Grace,” she said sweetly.

He walked away, chuckling in a fashion that made Alicia want to strike him.

Chapter Twelve

“He can’t help it, you know.”

Mr. Gibson stood beside Alicia as they watched Nick stride away. Grooms scattered to clear a path for him.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Gibson.” She was conscious of his heavily lidded eyes regarding her with a shrewd expression. “I was woolgathering there just for a moment. Who can’t help what?”

“The duke. He can’t help being so high in the instep. He’s used to being obeyed without question, you see. Half the time he don’t even know he’s treading on people’s feelings when he doles out orders.”

“Oh, yes, I see.” Alicia was afraid Mr. Gibson might have misinterpreted her thoughts and believe her to be lacking in gratitude. She hastened to correct that misconception. “But he doesn’t treat you like that. He appears to defer to your opinion.”

“Ah, well, I’ve known the lad since he was in short coats.”

“You’ve been in service at Dorchester Park for that long?” She strolled beside him as they headed toward the first row of loose boxes. A series of whinnies and the appearance of elegant Hanoverian heads greeted her approach. Mr. Gibson carried her basket whilst she distributed the apples it contained.

“Me and me father before me.”

“What’s it like, Mr. Gibson? From what I’ve heard, it sounds very grand.”

“Oh, aye, it is that. The house is very imposing and the grounds are quite spectacular. It takes an army of gardeners and gamekeepers to maintain them. And the duke’s a good master, I’ll say that for him. He’s fair to his tenants, listens to their problems and is free with his advice. He helps them if he can but don’t suffer fools gladly. He’s awake on all suits and I’ve yet to learn of anyone pulling the wool over his eyes.”

“Yes, I’ve already remarked that about him,” Alicia said, thinking that her uncle’s attempts to entice him into a business partnership must be doomed to failure. “But there’s something lacking in your description of Dorchester Park, I fancy.”

Gibson’s bushy eyebrows shot skywards. “I get asked questions about the Park, and the guv’nor, wherever I go,” he said, chuckling. “I just gave you me usual answer. No one’s ever questioned it before.”

“Tell me what it is you’re holding back, Mr. Gibson, if you feel you can do so without breaking any confidences.”

“Well, the truth is, that blooming great house is as cold as the grave. And that ain’t for lack of firewood, I can tell you.”

“I didn’t imagine that it would be.”

“The duke’s parents, they were…well, cold.” Mr. Gibson scowled at some private memory. “Their marriage was arranged and I never saw them exchange an ounce of affection the whole time I knew ’em. They were full of themselves right enough and enjoyed their social position. But they were totally indifferent to one another. They had their own pursuits and their paths seldom crossed, you see.”

Alicia rather thought that she did. “But aren’t many marriages between the upper classes conducted in a similar fashion?”

“Aye, true enough.” Mr. Gibson blew air through his nose, making it clear what he thought of such arrangements. “Anyway, they passed that air of self-importance on to their only child, on the rare occasions when they had anything to do with him, that is. They encouraged him to think himself above most company.”

“Hmm, I see.” Alicia paused to stroke yet another soft muzzle. “But the present duke isn’t always toplofty. Is that your doing, Mr. Gibson?”

“Bless you, miss, I suppose it is. I put him up on his first pony when he was barely knee-high. He wouldn’t listen to my instructions though and thought he knew better even at that age. Needless to say, he had a crashing fall.”

“Oh, dear!” Alicia covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Aye, well, that’s what I thought too. It would do him good to realise there were some things in life wot had to be worked for.”

“Was he hurt?”

“Only his pride so he tried to blame the pony for his mishap.”

“Oh, no, how could he have done that?”

“Very easily, I imagine, when you’re used to always having yer own way in everything. But he learned a hard lesson that day because I wasn’t about to put up with his antics in my stable yard.”

“What did you do?” Alicia asked, enthralled.

“Well, I took him into the tack room and closed the doors so that no one in the yard would see us. I was that angry with the young tyke that I rang a right peal over him. Then I put him across me knee, pulled down his breeches and thrashed him.”

Alicia couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Just a moment, let me see if I’ve got this straight, if you please. You were at the time, what…an undergroom?”

“I was that.”

“You were a mere undergroom on a vast estate, and yet you presumed to thrash the heir to the dukedom.” Alicia gaped at him. “It defies belief. Whatever must you have been thinking? Didn’t you value your position? Surely you expected to be dismissed as soon as your actions were made known?”

“I was thinking about the welfare of the pony, not me own skin. No one attempts to take a stick to an equine under my charge without good reason. And not even then unless I give them leave.”

“Quite right too! But you’re still employed at Dorchester Park, so what happened?”

“To his credit the guv’nor never told ’em. Instead he appeared in the stable yard the next day, not exactly cowed, but at least he had the grace to apologise. Then he asked me if I’d teach him to ride properly. I knew then that he wasn’t a lost cause but merely a slip of a boy, like any other, wot required a little discipline and a guiding hand. So I decided to take him under my wing.” Mr. Gibson spoke casually, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a future duke to take orders from an undergroom.

Alicia, having recovered from her initial shock, laughed at his offhand manner. She didn’t for one moment doubt its validity. She’d seen for herself the esteem in which Nick held Mr. Gibson. Even so, she doubted if he’d be too pleased to learn that this incident was being related to anyone who asked.

“Never told anyone about it before,” Mr. Gibson remarked, appearing to read Alicia’s mind.

“Well, thank you for telling me. It explains a lot.” She smiled at the man who was sticking doggedly to her side and took a moment to examine his features whilst his attention was focused upon a particularly fine mare. He was handsome in a weathered sort of way and not without charm. The deep grooves on his face lent it character, and his unruly mane of silver-grey hair gave him a distinguished air. She could quite see why Janet was in such a snit because he’d flirted with Cook instead of her. “What happened after that?”

“Well, the lad was a natural on horseback. I taught him to ride, and to drive. I made him groom his horse and clean his own tack, though,” he added, chuckling. “He’d never cleaned anything in his life before but, to his credit, he got down to it without quibbling. Sat in the tack room alongside all the scruffy lads employed to do the dirty work and didn’t once complain.”

“You’ve obviously done a lot to form his character over the years, Mr. Gibson. No wonder he holds you in such high regard.”

“Oh, I’m probably the closest thing to a true friend he has. That might sound daft, or assuming, coming from a groom, but it’s true for all that. He has no end of acquaintances. One or two are good friends to him, but they all want something from him. Except me, and he knows it.”

“Is that why you never address him by his title?”

“Noticed that, have you?”

Alicia nodded.

“Well, I can’t be doing with all this
Your Grace
nonsense. Besides, I think the lad is secretly grateful that I don’t kowtow to him all the time, even though he pretends sometimes to be affronted by my familiarity.”

“Having someone as loyal and steady as you beside him must be a great comfort.”

Mr. Gibson shuffled his feet, looking embarrassed by the praise. “Maybe, but you still don’t know the half of it. I taught him to fight with his fists when he was a boy. That ain’t a skill he would have picked up at Eton, let me tell you. But it’s one that’s stood him in good stead more than once since then.”

“I dare say it has.”

“Well, young men nowadays, you know how they can be.” Mr. Gibson smiled at her, presumably considering that she did. “I taught him to shoot too.”

“Shouldn’t his father have attended to those matters?”

“Aye, but he had, er…other interests, shall we say, that took up a lot of his time. He was seldom there for the boy.”

“I think that’s really sad,” Alicia said softly, her mind on the comfort she’d garnered from her closeness with her own father.

“I agree with you there but that’s the way the gentry do things. He brought some of the toffs he went to school with back to Dorchester Park. All titled and full of self-importance they were, just like the duke was taught to be.”

“It’s another world entirely to me, Mr. Gibson. And one I don’t aspire to be a part of.”

They walked on in silence for a few minutes and then Mr. Gibson spoke again.

“He was at Waterloo, you know.”

“Really.” Alicia arched a brow. “I didn’t know that.”

“Aye, that’s where he developed so much respect for Hanoverians. Some of the atrocities we saw, the cruel end some of those noble beasts met with, has stayed with us both ever since.”

“You went with him, Mr. Gibson?”

“’Course I did. Someone had to act as his batman. Besides, I couldn’t trust him to behave himself on his own.”

Alicia laughed. “Did he distinguish himself?”

“Oh, aye.” Mr. Gibson removed his cap and scratched his head. “Trouble is he tends to be a bit reckless. Acts without thinking things through. I had to save his skin twice as a result of his rash behaviour.”

“And so now you’re responsible for him,” she said, smiling.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, just something he said to me after he helped me save that poor rabbit’s life.”

“Did he now?” Mr. Gibson looked at her with a very peculiar expression on his face but said nothing more.

Alicia wrinkled her brow. “If he is so toplofty, I wonder what made him accept my uncle’s invitation. We were astonished when he did so. None of us, except perhaps my cousin Maria, thought he’d deign to reply to such an audacious approach from someone he didn’t even know, much less take it up.”

“Ah, well, he was bored and, er…well, let’s just say he was anxious to avoid being gulled into an engagement. He needed to put some distance between himself and the young lady in question.”

“I see.”

“He has to marry soon, you see. He’s almost one-and-thirty and needs to fill his nursery before he gets much older. He knows that and so do all the matchmaking mamas. He’s besieged wherever he goes, and I have to say I feel sorry for the lad. He only has to speak to a young lady and within minutes everyone’s talking about his intentions. But this latest one, she was suitable in all respects and I could tell he was on the brink of offering for her just so he’d be left alone by all the others. I told you before, he can be a bit rash. But if he gave way to his impulses this time, wot would that mean for him?”

“It would mean, I suppose,” Alicia said slowly, “that he’d finish up in the same position as his parents. He’d be trapped in a loveless marriage simply because the lady comes from a suitable background and is able to provide him with an heir.”

“Exactly. And I wasn’t gonna let him make that mistake if I could help it. So when yer uncle’s invitation came it seemed like a godsend. I encouraged him to consider it, wot with us both admiring Hanoverians so much, even if I did think it was a bit fishy.”

“And instead of being relieved from the attentions of predatory females for a few days, he’s had to spend most of his time fending off my cousin.”

Gibson chuckled. “Aye, and she’s more than a match for any of her better-born sisters, let me tell you.”

“Yes, she can be quite determined, I suppose,” Alicia admitted with a smile. “But anyway, I feel persuaded that His Grace is well able to take care of himself. Besides, you’ll be gone from here soon.”

“That we will. But the good news is that he’s found the right woman at last.”

“Really.”

Alicia was obliged to quell an irrational surge of jealousy. Quite what she had to be so jealous about, she couldn’t have said. All she knew was that the duke ought to have had better manners than to bed her if his affections were engaged elsewhere. Not that that sort of thing would be likely to affect an overbearing aristocrat of his ilk, especially one with a wager he was at such pains to win.

Presumably His Grace had discovered his lady love during the course of his visit to Lord Dawson’s estate the other day. His lordship’s wife had a younger, unmarried sister of great beauty. And so eminently suitable. Perhaps his interest in Lord Dawson’s sister-in-law also explained his true purpose in accepting her uncle’s invitation, which had obviously arrived at an opportune time.

“It’s funny,” Mr. Gibson said, “how you can look for something for years without any luck. Then blow me down if it don’t turn up in the last place you’d expect to find it.”

“I wish His Grace joy,” she said listlessly. They’d reached her animal hospital and Mr. Gibson opened the door for her. “Thank you, Mr. Gibson, but I’ll be quite safe here.”

“I’m sure you will, but I’d best stay with you, miss. The guv’nor—”

“Pray, don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time than act as my nursemaid.”

He looked at her for a long time before stepping out of the barn. “Right enough. I’ll be directly outside if you have need of me.”

As soon as the door closed after him Alicia fell into a pile of hay and sobbed her heart out.

Nick strode into the house and broke his fast in solitude. None of the ladies breakfasted downstairs and neither of the Woodley males were in evidence.

Ravenous, Nick worked his way through a heaped plate of coddled eggs and ham, accompanied by fried mushrooms and copious amounts of coffee. He tried to anticipate any stratagems Woodley and his man might be concocting in an effort to gull him.

But his mind appeared reluctant to tear itself away from thoughts of Alicia and all that had passed between them the previous evening. He couldn’t help wondering why the memories were so determined to linger. Perhaps it was because her capitulation had been as sweet and natural as it had been poignant, setting her apart from her numerous predecessors. Something about her sultry smile as she surrendered to his touch, the unselfconscious delight she displayed at their activities, aroused him afresh. It was the reason why he’d blindfolded her, of course. If she couldn’t see his face, she’d feel less inhibited and more likely to behave instinctively.

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