Taming the Duke (17 page)

“I’d wager that myself, now that Bashshar can’t compete,” Dalton said bitterly. “But none of this gives us any clue to who might have shot Bashshar.”

“Not yet, but detective work takes time. First, we must gather the facts. Each lead pulls us in a different direction. With time, a pattern will develop. You must have faith, as I do. We’ll soon find out who shot at you.”

“My horse was shot,” Dalton corrected. “Not I.”

“Yes, but we can’t rule out that whoever shot Bashshar might have meant you as the target. Your life could be in danger.”

“Nonsense. More than likely the shooter was a poacher.”

“Our findings don’t point to a poacher, sir.”

Dalton was losing patience. “Thank you, Leary. I appreciate your concern, but I’m perfectly safe at Havencrest.”

The inspector drained his glass and rose to his feet. “You should be careful, your grace.” He placed
the empty goblet on the sideboard. “Men in powerful positions can have enemies.” Leary paused a moment before he bowed, then left the room.

Dalton leaned back and clamped his hands behind his head. Was someone trying to harm him? Or was it Bashshar, who had been a serious racing contender for the Newmarket Classic Cup?

And what of Robert? He had always appeared the solid sort, not a gambler. Why would he need money? Had he placed a large wager on Desert Prince, now that Bashshar was unable to run?

Nonsense. Robert had many friends within the Jockey Club, but he wasn’t the sporting kind, nor was he deceitful. But another thought crossed Dalton’s mind. If someone wanted to be certain Desert Prince won at Newcastle, would Bashshar be in greater danger if the stallion was cured enough to race?

Everyone knew Alicia was the key to curing Bashshar. Would Alicia now be in danger? The idea sent a chill down his spine.

He walked to the sideboard and laid down his whiskey glass. If Alicia’s life was in danger, would he be able to protect her?

Chapter Ten

A
licia knocked on the door of the children’s nursery on the third floor where Olivia waited. The manor house was a tangle of corridors where a person might become lost forever, she mused, as the groom, who had led the way for her, retreated down the hall.

“Come and join us,” Olivia said.

Alicia opened the door and stepped inside. Leaning against the back of an overstuffed chaise, Olivia held her infant son. A tiny pink face cradled with blond fuzz peeked from beneath a white frilly blanket. “Little Drake has just been fed and I asked Sarah to let him stay up a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I found myself lost amid a tangle of corridors. Thankfully, one of the hall grooms rescued me.”

Olivia laughed. “I was born in this house and I still get lost from time to time,” she said. “I’m glad that Drake isn’t fussing with his new tooth. He cried all morning.”

Alicia took a seat beside Olivia and gazed at the
infant. “What a beautiful child,” she said, brushing her fingertips across the baby’s downy head. “I’m most pleased to see you, Master Drake.”

“Everyone says the baby looks like Robert,” Olivia said proudly. She stroked his creamy cheek. “But I think he looks like my father. Drake has the same Warfield nose and chin.” She turned to Alicia and said wistfully, “I wish you could have known our father. He was a warm, gentle man. Dalton is very much like him, that is, when Dalton comes out of that hard shell he enjoys wearing.” She laughed. “Don’t ever tell him I said so.”

Alicia grinned. “I promise.” How she wanted to ask Olivia so many questions about Dalton, but she didn’t feel this was the time. “Your son is a handsome lad, to be sure,” she said instead.

Olivia’s face held a radiant glow as she gazed upon the cooing bundle in her arms. “In another year, you might be sitting here, holding your own baby.” She looked up brightly. “Wouldn’t that be grand? I could keep you company while little Drake rocks on old Cobby.”

Alicia glanced up. “Old Cobby?”

Olivia smiled and tipped her head toward the huge wooden hobbyhorse in the corner. “Old Cobby has rocked each of us over many childhood miles,” she said fondly. “And now Cobby waits patiently for the next generation of Warfields.”

A raw tumble of anxiety shot through Alicia. Agreeing to marry Dalton was one thing, but to see Olivia with little Drake brought home the full
scope of what that promise meant. She didn’t know what to say.

Olivia chuckled. “My dear Alicia, my brother isn’t a monster. Beneath that unfeeling facade he loves to wear is a good man who is very much in love with you.”

Surprised, Alicia regarded her quizzically for a moment. “You think Dalton is in love with me?”

Olivia touched her hand and Alicia could sense her compassion. “I would never say such a thing if I didn’t believe it, Alicia.”

Dalton’s words came back to haunt her.
Love only makes men weak and women foolish
. “I’ve heard Dalton say he doesn’t believe in love.”

“Men say such things because they’re afraid of love. I know my brother, I see how he behaves when you’re near. But it’s how he behaves when you’re not around that tells me more.”

“What do you mean, Olivia?” She wished she wasn’t so curious, but she had to know.

Olivia’s smile lit her face. “He’s always talking about you, or he’s asking where you are.” She leaned back, a satisfied look on her face. “I’ve waited a long time to see my big brother fall in love. Now that he has, I couldn’t be happier.”

Alicia remained silent, not trusting her voice. How she yearned for Dalton to love her, and the fact made her all the more frightened. She averted her gaze to the shelves of dolls covering the wall beside the window.

Olivia sighed. “I am sorry if I offended you—”

“Not at all, Olivia. It’s only…” But how could
she explain to Olivia that marriage to Dalton would thrust her into a hostile world, with people she couldn’t trust? She needed the peace and simplicity of a rural life. A life with a man who loved her and would welcome her love.

Olivia rose and pulled the bell cord by the door. “I’ll ring for Sarah to put Drake down for his nap. Then we can get down to the business of planning your wedding.”

Alicia settled back against an overstuffed chair. “I received a letter from my mother this morning. They would have been here by now, except I asked them to wait until your mother’s houseguests left.” She felt a warm blush at the white lie. Alicia’s mother had insisted they wait until
those people
, meaning Dalton’s mother and her friends, had left.

“I can hardly wait to meet your family. It will be wonderful having young people about. How old are your sisters?”

Alicia rose and took a seat at the window. “Kimbra is almost ten and five. Lyssa is eight.” In the courtyard below, handsome carriages waited in line for each of the dowager’s houseguests to board and be off for the next round of parties.

A short, dark-haired maid entered the room. Olivia kissed the bundled infant’s cheek, then handed him to Sarah. Olivia came back to sit on a stool beside a dollhouse large enough for a child to crawl inside.

“Do you think your sisters will enjoy being in the wedding?”

Alicia chuckled. “Kimbra is a young lady and
she’ll adore it. But Lyssa…” She laughed at the thought of her tomboy sister. “I’m not quite certain about her.”

“I’ve talked to Cook and the wedding breakfast will be a full course meal.” Olivia tilted her head in thought. “He wants you to check over the menu with him. He’s already started on the bride’s cake. You need to decide what flowers you’d like for the arrangements.”

“Anything will do,” Alicia said with a wave of her hand. She felt suddenly overwhelmed. Before she knew it she would be Dalton’s wife.

“The seamstress is ready for your final fitting. Oh, I can’t wait to see you in your gown.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed as pink as her dress. “You must decide what flowers to have for your headpiece. I thought a wreath of roses over the bridal veil, since the season is past for orange blossoms.”

The knot in Alicia’s stomach tightened. She managed a weak smile. Olivia didn’t notice, counting off items on her fingers.

“Dalton promised to speak to Reverend Drew.” Olivia bit her lip as she thought. “Do you think your family will arrive by tomorrow, Alicia? You and your father will need to practice with your attendants.”

Alicia nervously pleated the folds of her skirt. “It will be a simple wedding, Olivia. Just my family, a few of Dalton’s friends, you and your husband…”

“Simple, yet elegant.” Olivia’s smile returned to her face.

A feeling of gratitude welled inside her for this
kind and sensitive woman who would soon be her sister-in-law. “Thank you for your help, Olivia. I don’t know if I could get through this without you.”

“I’m thrilled to be of service, my dear. Besides, Robert and I are looking forward to our stay here for a few more weeks. It will give us time to get to know one another.” She patted Alicia’s hand. “I meant it when I said I’ve always wanted a sister.”

Alicia’s throat tightened. “Thank you, Olivia.”

The door suddenly creaked open and Alicia glanced up to see the dowager duchess step inside the room and close the door. Dressed in a black silk gown and matching turban, the older woman appeared commanding. The glower on her face contrasted sharply with the smiling Punch and Judy puppets hanging along the wall behind her.

Olivia shot up, her mouth open. “Mother, what a lovely surprise. Shall I ring for tea?”

“This isn’t a social call, Olivia. The carriage is waiting. I’m leaving for London. I’ve only stopped in to say goodbye.”

Olivia nervously touched her throat, her gaze following her mother as the dowager crossed the room to stand beside Alicia.

“I’d like a word with Miss Spencer, Olivia. Please leave us.”

Olivia glanced uneasily at Alicia, a thread of worry creasing her brow.

Alicia managed a smile. “It’s quite all right, Olivia. We’ll talk later.”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Olivia hurried to her mother’s side and brushed her lips
against the older woman’s cheek. “Have a safe journey, Mother.”

A knot of uncertainty tightened in Alicia’s belly. “Your grace, I was hoping we could have a nice visit before you leave.” She took a deep breath. “Please sit down, your grace.”

“Behaving as though you’re already the duchess, are you?”

Olivia’s face paled. “Perhaps I should stay?”

“Leave, my dear.” The dowager’s tone gave no quarter.

Olivia glanced helplessly at Alicia before she silently left the room.

The dowager waited until the door clicked shut. Alicia felt chilled by the woman’s frosty demeanor, but decided she would not allow her future mother-in-law to anger her.

The older woman sniffed as she took a seat in a wing chair. Alicia remained standing, waiting for the real reason that Dalton’s mother had sought her out.

The dowager glanced around the room. “Rather ironic that our first private meeting takes place in the nursery—a room for children and their toys.” Her thin lips twisted. “Like a pretty doll, you’ve obviously entranced my son. He wants to marry you, and Dalton gets what he wants. However, he’s my only son, now that Drake is gone. In my unique way, I care for Dalton. I don’t want to see him hurt.” She paused, casting her cold blue eyes directly at Alicia.

“Dalton and I are very much alike, Miss Spencer.
Even as a child, Dalton wasn’t capable of love. So if you’re under some romantic notion…” The dowager studied her carefully. “Dalton is determined to marry you because he knows it will upset me.” Her smile showed no hint of humor. “He knows me quite well. And I can understand why you accepted him. Dalton is one of the most wealthy men in England and the family estates are some of the most enviable in all of Europe. He’s handsome, dashing and I’m certain a great lover, for he’s the best in everything he undertakes.”

Alicia felt her cheeks warm, but she said nothing.

“Very well, I’ll get down to the crux of the matter. I’m willing to pay you a fortune not to marry Dalton. I want you to leave by nightfall and I’ll pay you any amount you ask. Of course, I’ll want a signed agreement that you’ve broken the marriage contract.”

“And if I refuse?” Alicia managed to ask.

“Why would you refuse? I’m giving you what my son has offered, and more. With my proposition, you will be free—a very wealthy young woman who could marry whomever you choose.”

“I’m not for sale, your grace.”

The older woman arched a thin black brow. “Are you denying that my son put a price on your services like some common harlot?”

“We have a marriage agreement.”

“So how can you say you’re not for sale?”

“You’re attempting to buy me off. I’m Lady Alicia Spencer, not some trifle who is bedazzled by title or wealth.” She fought off the light-headed feeling
that threatened her. “I’m sorry that you’re disappointed in Dalton’s choice. I’m sorry that Elizabeth was hurt—”

“Obviously you haven’t heard.” The dowager’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Elizabeth’s parents bundled her off for a hasty marriage with Lord Rothbury. But marriage to a man she doesn’t love won’t prevent Elizabeth from finding happiness. She’ll always remain close to Dalton, I would imagine.” Her thin lips curled, and she reminded Alicia of a cat ready to pounce.

Beneath the dowager’s anger, Alicia sensed something else—a feeling…like an animal in pain. Yes, she felt the same sensation emanating from the duchess as she did when finding an animal snared in a trap. Fascinated, Alicia ignored the woman’s words and concentrated on her own instincts. Beneath the dowager’s hatred, she could feel a soul filled with anguish. Defying all reason, she felt sadness and compassion for this woman. The woman was like an injured she-wolf, defending her young the best way she could.

But why did she sense the dowager was wounded? The idea was outrageous, yet she couldn’t ignore her intuition. “I believe you love Dalton,” Alicia began gently, “and I know he cares for you.”

The dowager paused, surprised. “You know nothing of who we are!”

“It’s not something I know, it’s what I sense.” Alicia stood and held out her hands. “I can’t explain logically what I feel, but I trust my instincts. Even now, in this room so filled with your pain,
I sense the reason behind this visit was your love for Dalton.”