Authors: Clare Jayne
AMELIA HEARD the door being locked behind her and she
immediately ran to the window and pulled it open. She grimaced at the sight of
the long drop below her and wondered if the situation had become desperate
enough as to make it worth risking breaking her neck. If she was lucky and
avoided that, she would likely break a leg and still be unable to escape. No,
she would have to hope that a better means of freeing herself presented itself
during the evening. She deliberately did not dwell on what she would do if she
managed to get outside - it would be better to be alone in the middle of
nowhere than here with the Duke.
There was a jug of water, bowl and towel on
the table at the end of the four-poster bed so she cleaned and tidied herself
the best she could with no mirror or change of clothes. She was waiting
impatiently when the door was unlocked.
She swept out of the room the moment the
door opened, having no wish to be alone in a bedroom with Elborough.
He looked her over in his usual unpleasant
manner then held out her arm for her to take so he could lead her down to
dinner. “Shall we?”
She glared at him, refusing to play along
with the game that nothing was wrong, and marched downstairs ahead of him, not
hurrying but keeping an eye on the front door. Her heart fell and her anger
rose when she saw a footman standing guard in front of the door. That was her
main means of escape blocked, she realised, panic growing.
She pushed down her fear and followed the
scent of food to a small dining room, lit only by several candles. Places had
been set at either end of the oak dining table so she sat down and the Duke,
entering the room just behind her, sat opposite. A servant - the woman who had
let them into the house - served them soup then left.
“I trust you are in a more gracious mood
now you have had time to compose yourself and consider the many advantages of
your position as my wife,” Elborough said, picking up his spoon, and the gall
of his words made her lose her temper.
“Had I the slightest wish to be your wife,
I would have accepted the proposal you made me,” she told him. “If you believe
you can induce affection by kidnapping me then you are far more feeble-minded
than I ever imagined.”
He dropped his spoon with a clatter and his
expression was so violent that she feared he would hurt her. She clenched her
hands into fists, letting the nails bite into her palms so she would not do
something pointless, like screaming, and his expression slowly calmed.
“By this time tomorrow you will be my
wife,” he said, breathing harshly. “You will learn to obey me and to treat me
with respect one way or another.”
He returned to his soup and she did the
same, her hand shaking as she picked up the spoon, hoping the meal would stop
any further conversation between them. After what felt like a lifetime the next
course of their dinner was brought in a served to them but she felt too sick by
now to do more than pick at it.
“You are not drinking your wine,” Elborough
commented.
“It has an odd taste,” she lied as a new
means of escape occurred to her. “I do not think the glass was washed
properly.”
He paused a moment, frowning and she held
her breath. “I will fetch you another,” he said.
He left the room and she jumped up and
hurried to the window. It was stiff but she managed to get it open, only to
hear Elborough’s returning footsteps. He must have only gone to a room nearby. She
looked helplessly from the window to the door, paralysed by the thought of what
he might do if he caught her.
She saw a statue on the sideboard. She hesitated,
uncertain whether this new plan would work, but she only had seconds left so
she ran to it and picked it up - it was as heavy as it looked. She positioned
herself behind the door and bit her lip, waiting, the statue a dead weight in
her arms.
The door opened and Elborough stepped
inside, a fresh glass in one hand. He saw the open window and stopped just in
front of Amelia, who was concealed from his sight by the door. She hefted the
statue up and brought it down hard on his head. He fell to the floor with a
satisfying thump that she hoped would leave him with bruises and a headache. She
let the statue drop to the floor then straightened and pushed the door shut, to
stop the staff realising what had happened.
Amelia ran to the window.
* * *
Brightford and Alex stopped in front of a
manor house and got down from their horses. This must be the right place. He
could only hope for the thousandth time that they had got here early enough to
prevent any harm befalling Miss Daventry.
“Mr Brightford!”
He recognised the voice but could barely
believe it when he saw Miss Daventry running over the grass to him from the
side of the building. He caught her in his arms and she held onto him tightly,
shaking, as he closed his eyes, the hours he had spent fearing for her
well-being finally over. They must be married quickly as he never wanted to
leave her alone again. As he embraced her he said, “Where is Elborough? How did
you escape?”
“I bashed him over the head with a statue,”
she told him breathlessly but with distinct satisfaction.
At these words he laughed, pride welling up
at the realisation that she had bested her kidnapper. “And we thought you might
need rescuing!”
She pulled back from him and he reluctantly
let go of her. She caught sight of Alex and smiled at him then looked back at
Brightford with a solemn expression, “I promise, I have never been so grateful
to see anyone ...”
The front door of the house opened and
Elborough and two men ran out, all coming to a halt when they saw Brightford
and Alex. They all assessed each other and, out of the corner of his eye, he
saw Alex reach for his gun.
“How did you find us?” Elborough demanded,
looking ready to tear them apart for ruining his plans.
“That hardly matters now. Miss Daventry is
safe and if you ever so much as speak to her again I will kill you,” Brightford
promised.
“Then I will give you the chance to do so,”
Elborough said with a smile that promised vengeance. “I challenge you to a
duel.”
“No!” Amelia exclaimed.
“I accept,” Brightford said.
“No, you cannot.” Amelia grabbed his arm,
paler than ever.
“I will have my valet send you details of
the time and place.” Elborough gave Amelia a look that suggested things were
not over between them but, before Brightford could object, the Duke turned and
strode back into the house.
Amelia’s hand was still on his arm and she
looked up at him with far more terror than she had shown for her own sake. “Do
you not see that he wants to kill you to deny us the chance for future
happiness together?”
He knew what Elborough intended but there
was no other solution. “The Duke is a danger to everyone around him. I have to
stop him.”
WHEN AMELIA saw her mother again she burst into tears. She
felt a fool about it but it was as if half the fear from her capture was only
hitting her now and, on top of that, she was now frightened beyond words for Mr
Brightford’s life.
“You are safe now, my dear,” Mrs Daventry
said, holding her and patting her back as if she were a child again who had had
a nightmare. “It is all over now.”
But it was not a harmless dream and it was
not over: she was safe but the man she loved was not and she knew she had to
find a way to stop Mr Brightford and the Duke fighting each other.
It was the middle of the night by now so,
after the explanation of all that had happened, Mr Brightford left and Amelia
asked for a bathtub to be brought up to her room. While the necessary water was
being heated and pails of it were carried upstairs it came to her what she must
do. It was in fact something Mr Brightford and Mr Alexander Fenbridge had said
about the Duke of Elborough’s staff that provided the answer. They would betray
him if offered enough money.
She sent for McGillis, one of her family’s
footmen, and gave him her orders. He did not look happy about them but nodded
and left.
After that she took her bath, scrubbing the
day’s events from her body, and then she was finally able to relax.
* * *
Lottie was not concentrating on her
breakfast or even on her beloved husband. She was still in a state of shock
over what had happened to Amelia and needed to see her as soon as possible to
check that Amelia was unharmed and not too distressed over everything.
She hardly spared a glance when Mr
Brightford’s butler entered the dining room and held out a tray with a card on
it to him. “This was left for you, sir.”
“Thank you, Mills.”
“What is it?” Alex asked.
Mr Brightford read what was on the back of
the card then tossed it down on the table and continued with his breakfast. “I
will be seeing the Duke of Elborough again tomorrow and it will be the last
thing he does.”
The words, only half listened to, did not
immediately make sense to Lottie but her husband’s subsequent silence had an
ominous feel to it and she repeated in her head what Mr Brightford had said. A
duel, Lottie realised, vividly remembering the fear her entire family had
suffered when Benjy had fought one. “If you love Amelia and your family then
you cannot do this. If you die we will all be left to mourn and if you succeed
and kill him you will have to flee the country or be executed for murder.”
“My wife is right,” Alex said. “There is no
good outcome to such an action.”
“Perhaps not,” Mr Brightford said, “but I
have no alternative. The Duke is a danger to Amelia as long as he is alive and
her safety is more important than anything else to me.”
Lottie listened to this, all appetite gone,
as she thought how Alex and Amelia would feel if Mr Brightford were to die. The
Duke of Elborough had found a way to wreck their lives after all.
* * *
“I have the information you wanted, Miss
Daventry.” The footman stood awkwardly in the doorway to Amelia’s bedroom,
Walker glowering at him for the impropriety of his being there, despite the
fact he was only obeying Amelia’s instructions.
“And you told Mr Brightford’s butler the
wrong time?”
“Aye, Miss. I told him to get there an hour
later, as you said.”
“Excellent. So where and when did the Duke
of Elborough’s man say the duel would take place?”
He gave her the instructions but exchanged worried
looks with Walker as he did so. She could not have all her work undone now so
she told him firmly, “You have done well, McGillis, and have probably just
saved a good man’s life.”
His frown faded and he nodded to her and
left.
As soon as he was gone her maid said, “Miss
Amelia, what are you planning? After what you’ve just escaped, I won’t let you
go anywhere without me.”
“Then you may be reassured,” she said. “You,
McGillis and Darrow will all be accompanying me tomorrow morning.”
Walker failed to look the least bit
reassured. “And where will we be going, Miss?”
Amelia decided to save that fact for the
last minute and wondered what was the best outfit to wear to a duel.
* * *
Brightford got dressed at the appointed
hour and found Alex waiting for him downstairs with a long face, ready to act
as his second in the duel. He took no satisfaction in what lay ahead; indeed,
given that he had seen what an excellent shot Elborough was, he could have no
certainty of surviving beyond the next hour. However, he was certain that
Elborough would not give up on his obsession with Miss Daventry; if he could
not marry her then, given the chance, he would find a way to harm her.
“Alex, if Elborough should kill me, will you
promise to look after Miss Daventry? Elborough might try again to force her
into marriage if I am not there.”
“I promise.” Alex put a hand on his
shoulder. He had tried to talk Brightford out of this last night and, after
getting nowhere, seemed resigned but his worry showed in his eyes. “As long as
you will promise to do your best not to let that happen.”
“Happily.” He put more confidence into his
tone than he felt. “I have a strong desire to wed and I do not want to let down
the lady in question.”
He thought of Miss Daventry as they left
the house, hoping that, whatever the outcome today, she would be safe for the
rest of her life.
* * *
Elborough’s expression was almost amusing
when he saw Amelia, rather than Mr Brightford, emerge from the carriage.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded,
walking up to her, his presence bringing back all the fear she had endured
during her abduction.
Amelia felt McGillis step closer to her. He
had a gun of his own with him, which reassured her that the Duke could not
threaten her again. He could, of course, kill her but she was counting on his
twisted feelings for her preventing this. “I am here to fight a duel,” she
said. “Can someone explain the rules to me?”
“This is ludicrous,” Elborough’s second – a
man she did not recognise – said.
“Where is Brightford?” the Duke asked and
his expression made Amelia have to, once again, reassure herself that she was
safe before she could answer him.
“He is not here and I am. Your only chance
of a victory today is against me. Now where are the duelling pistols and what
should I do?”
Elborough explained the rules, ignoring the
heated objections from his friend and from Amelia’s servants. The duel began
and, as Amelia took the required twenty paces away from the Duke, she wondered
if this was in fact as good a plan as it had seemed last night. He had wanted
to marry her. He could not shoot her. Could he?
Amelia turned, pointed the gun about a foot
above Elborough’s head and shot. The gun jolted her backwards and she fell to
the ground just as another shot sounded. She looked behind her and saw the
bullet embedded in a nearby tree at chest height. She stared at it in disbelief
then turned to the Duke, who was walking towards her, McGillis and Walker also running
over the grass to her side. Elborough held out a hand to help her up, which she
ignored, demanding, “Were you aiming for my heart?”
He gave a shrug. “It seemed appropriate.”
She got to her feet on her own as a
familiar carriage came into view and pulled up near to the group, Mr Brightford
and Mr Alexander Fenbridge emerging from it and taking in the scene.
“What is going on?” Mr Brightford asked,
moving to her side. “Miss Daventry, why are you here? Are you hurt?”
“I am well,” she said, brushing twigs and
leaves from the back of her pelisse, then added in a light tone she did not feel,
“I just fought a duel and nearly died.”
Brightford was still staring at her, as if
unable to comprehend the words, when she took his arm and looked back at the
Duke of Elborough. “Should you ever meet a woman who shows the slightest
inclination towards marrying you,” she told him, “I will be waiting to inform
her of exactly what manner of reptile you truly are.”