Son of a Duke (18 page)

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Authors: Jessie Clever

BOOK: Son of a Duke
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Nathan frowned deeply.
 

"That is a good point you make, my lady," he said, his tone playfully serious, but then his expression blanked, and he looked at her more closely.
 
"That is a good point you make," he said again, but this time his tone was wondering.

"You do not believe that I saw or heard something that I am unaware of?" she asked, "That sounds like something from one of those novels, Nathan.
 
Completely fantastical.
 
Those kinds of things do not happen in real life."

"Perhaps not," he said, easing her away from him completely, "But it would probably be best for us not to forgot it."
 

Nathan reached for her carpetbag.
 
Nora instinctively picked it up first and moved it away.
 

"I have got it," she said.
 

Nathan raised an eyebrow at her, and Nora felt a flush climbing up her face.
 

"I beg your pardon, Nathan.
 
I have never had anyone offer to carry my bag before this," she said.
 

She held out the bag.
 
Nathan took it in one hand and held out his other to her.
 
He was not wearing gloves.
 
The two occasions in which she had interacted with him, Nathan had not been wearing gloves.
 
Nor had he worn a hat. Nora stuck her hand in his before she thought any more.
 

"Would you like to go out the front or the back, my lady?" Nathan drew her hand through the crook of his elbow.
 

"I have never been out the front door," Nora said, and in those words, the weight of what she was about to do descended on her.

She looked about the room again, at the small beds and the chair she had spent countless nights in.
 
She was leaving.
 
She was leaving all of this, and she had not told a soul.
 
She was simply going to disappear.
 
She pulled her hand from Nathan's grasp.

"I cannot do this," she whispered, but Nathan was already reaching for her.

"Nora, you must come with me.
 
You are in danger, and I cannot protect you here."
 

The urgency in his voice had her gaze snapping to his.
 
There was something that plagued Nathan Black.
 
Something that he had not told her, but then there were things she had not told him.
 
Not entirely at least.

"Nathan, I cannot leave my post.
 
How will I find work when we get Samuel back?
 
How will I care for him?
 
I cannot-"

"My father will take care of it," he said, cutting her off and taking her hand once more.
 

He did not pull at her though.
 
He simply held her hand in his.
 

"Your father?" she asked, and she suddenly remembered that night when he had told her his father was a duke.
 
"The duke?" she added unnecessarily.

Nathan nodded.
 
"He will find a post for you.
 
I assure you.
 
Everything will go back to what it was before as soon as this is all over."
 

The words brought comfort, but with it came a sting of regret that she could not understand.
 

"Would the duke have work for me?" she asked instead of thinking about her sudden feelings of regret.
 
"I know dukes can have advantageous positions in society but-"

"My father is the Duke of Lofton," Nathan said, and Nora stepped back so quickly her hand came loose from his.

She knew her mouth was open, but in that moment, she could do nothing about it.
 

"Your father?"

Nathan nodded, his now empty hand hanging in the air between them.
 

"Then Jane is...and the Earl of Stryden?" she no longer formed complete questions, but Nathan still nodded.
 

Without another thought forming in her head, she stuck her hand back into his.
 

"This is a lot bigger than me, is it not?
 
This...situation?"

Nathan nodded again, and she nodded back.
 

"We had best be going then," she said.

Nathan turned right when they reached the hallway, and Nora walked him to the front door.

~

Alec figured that standing on the front stoop would appear overly anxious.
 
Waiting in the library would be suspicious since he was only ever in there to drink, and noon was too early to imbibe even for him.
 
He had never been in the parlor, and the dining room would obviously look odd.
 

So that was why he was waiting at the top of the stairs.
 
He could just see out the second floor window down to the street below.
 
He would wait for her carriage to pull up, see her alight, and then start casually down the stairs.
 
If he were in motion the first time she saw him, it would appear that he was a busy, important man.
 

And not like he had spent the entire morning wondering where to be standing when she arrived, what he should be wearing, or even if he should have his valet try to keep his hair off his forehead.
 

If he were moving, she would assume that he was actually doing something important.
 

Which he was.
 

He was trying to make his wife love him.
 

When the carriage rolled up out front, he nearly fell down the first stair.
 
Patience.
 
Patience.
 
He had to wait for her to alight.
 
The tiger pulled open the carriage door and first her shoe appeared, a nice, fine, black, traveling shoe.
 
Then pale blue skirt.
 
Then her face, looking up at the house.
 
And then he really did fall down the first stair.
 
He grabbed the banister at the last moment to keep him upright.
 
The fall had dislodged his cravat, and he fumbled with it, trying to get it back into place.
 

So that was what he was doing when the front door open, and his wife came home.
 

"Problems dressing yourself, my lord?
 
I thought that that was what your valet was for."
 
Sarah's voice was properly impersonal and slightly biting.
 

Alec's skin tingled, and his heart beat a little faster.

She was beautiful.
 
Even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her.
 
Her golden hair was swept up under a hat full of feathers or some such.
 
Her skin was pale and glowing.
 
Her hazel eyes were sharp and cunning.
 
Her mouth, her glorious mouth with its slight overbite.
 
Her little nose that pointed up.
 

And her bosom.
 

Alec forced his eyes back up to her face.

He tried to think of something witty, something funny, something intelligent to say, something that would have her so impressed, she would fall at his feet in utter adoration.
 

So he said, "Hello, Sarah."

Her lips parted into a smile, lines forming around her upper lip from the overbite.
 

"Hello, Alec."
 

Her voice dripped cynicism, and Alec was suddenly deeply depressed.
 

Why had he thought things would be different this time?
 
Why had he thought she would see him differently?
 
Why had he thought she would care this time?

And then his brother came flying through the door and crashed into her.
 

Alec fell more than walked down the rest of the stairs.
 
Sarah collided with him, sending them both into the wall.
 
He cushioned her against him, knocking her hat to the floor.
 
Her head came up, almost knocking him in the chin.
 
Her eyes were huge, and what looked like uncertainty swam in them.
 
Then she looked at his mouth.
 
Her eyes swooped down for one short, stolen look.
 
Which made him look at her mouth.
 
It was only an inch from his.
 
If he just leaned forward a little bit, he could take that delicious upper lip-

"I beg your pardon, Sarah.
 
I did not know you were right inside the door," Nathan said from the doorway.
 

Alec set his wife away from him and bent to retrieve her hat, letting the blood flow back into his head.
 

"It is quite all right, Nathan," Sarah said cheerily enough to make Alec grind his teeth.
 
"How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, but we seem to have a problem."
 

It was that moment that Alec's bumbling butler came careening down the hall from the back of the kitchen.
 

"Is everything all right, my lord?" Reynolds gasped, his rotund belly heaving with the exertion of sprinting down the hallway.
 

"Quite all right, Reynolds.
 
You may return to your business."
 

But Reynolds did not move.
 

"Lady Stryden," he said, bowing in Sarah's direction.
 
"It is wonderful to see you again.
 
Might we be enjoying your company for a suitable length of time?"
 

Alec was not sure if a more politely worded yet outrageously bold question had ever been asked.

Sarah merely smirked.

"That remains to be seen, Reynolds.
 
But I have had a long journey, and I would require some refreshment.
 
It appears we will be having guests as well," here she gestured to Nathan standing with his hand still on the doorknob.
 
"Perhaps a cart in the drawing room?"
 

"Of course, my lady," Reynolds bowed again and waddled back in the direction from whence he had come.

Sarah looked at him then, but he did not have energy to speak to her.
 
Reynolds had asked a very important question.
 
How long did she intend to stay?

Alec turned back to his brother.
 
"Problem?"

Sarah also turned her attention to Nathan, and he noticed how still she grew as if her body could absorb bad news more easily if she did not move.
 

"Someone has kidnapped Nora's son, and I cannot find Father."
 

Sarah looked around at Alec.
 
"Who is Nora?"

"Miss Quinton," Alec answered, distractedly.
 
"Father was not at the house?"

"He was not at the house or his club.
 
I was hoping you might know where he is."
 

"I do not have a clue," Alec replied.

"Jane was to meet me here this afternoon," Sarah said, and Alec looked at her.

"You are inviting guests to a house in which you yourself fail to occupy on a regular basis?"
 

"Do not start, Alec Black.
 
Of all the people-"

"Excuse me."
 

Alec's head shot around to the authoritative voice that spoke somewhere in the location of Nathan's shoulder.
 
Eleanora Quinton stood just inside the doorway, her housekeeper's uniform obscured by a worn cloak, her hands held together firmly in front of her.
 

"I do not mean to interrupt but as it is my son who has gotten himself kidnapped, I would appreciate some agility in the anticipated events of getting my son back.
 
Is that reasonable to assume?"
 

Alec looked at Sarah who stared at Miss Quinton before looking at Nathan.
 

"Kidnapped?
 
Are you sure?" Alec asked Nathan, but it was Miss Quinton who replied with a question of her own.

"Do you think us incapable of deciphering a kidnapping when it occurs, my lord?"
 

He had only had the pleasure of spending one evening in Miss Quinon's company, but her sharp retort should have been expected by him.
 
He would do well to keep her bold manners in mind the next time he thought to ask a ridiculous question.
 

"What are the circumstances?" this was from his wife, who appeared unfairly fetching with that curious mixture of intrigue and concern on her face.

"Have you been briefed on the result of the attempted Archer assassination?" Nathan said.
 

Sarah shook her head.
 

"Attempted?
 
Was it not successful then?"

She looked at Alec for an answer, and her gaze was so intense he forgot she had asked a question.
 

"Yes, it was not successful," Nathan answered for him.
 
"And I fear we may have brought Miss Quinton into a dangerous situation with our mistake."
 

"Miss Quinton?" Sarah said then.

Alec stepped forward.
 

"Sarah, this is Miss Eleanora Quinton, the housekeeper at Gregenden House.
 
Miss Quinton, this is Sarah Black, the Countess of Stryden."

He never ceased to enjoy calling Sarah his countess.
 
He just wished someday that he would mean it.
 

Sarah bowed her head in Miss Quinton's direction.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Quinton.
 
I just wish it were under different circumstances."

"Likewise, my lady," Miss Quinton bowed in return.
 

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