The Duke's Defiant Debutante Page 13

"That's true, my dearest!" Reginald chortled. "In love, are you, Edward? That's all the better – it took you ten years to stop weeping over your sister – only imagine how long it'll take to fix a broken heart!"

  "Long enough to see him safely off the marriage market," said Valentina. "And, with any luck, safely into a grave! Which is good news for us, is it not, my love?"

  "What did you say to Angelica?" growled Edward. The fire in his eyes must have matched the conflagration in his heart – Reginald was back to quailing in an instant.

  "Come now, husband," said Valentina calmly. "There's no need to be afraid. He's only a man, after all. Not the demon his reputation makes him out to be. How sad that Angelica isn't here to see him so lost and alone!"

  "I am very far from lost, Mrs Thorne," said Edward, through gritted teeth. "I must warn you to take care over the way you speak to me. If you have been foolish enough to marry my cousin, you have my condolences. But I will make no family allowances for you."

  "What will you do?" teased Valentina, eyes sparkling as though they were dancing a waltz at some glorious ball. "You cannot challenge me to a duel. And you would not raise your hand against a woman, surely?"

  "I can challenge him." Edward lifted his hand and pointed at Reginald, who leapt back as though there were already a pistol in his hand.

  "Edward – no – for goodness' sake – for my father's sake –"

  "You don't deserve to bear your father's name," Edward spat. "A duel, Reginald. It's a question of honour. I won't let you get away with this unscathed."

  "Oh, help me!" screamed Valentina, flailing her arms around to draw the attention of her guests – as though there were a single eye in the room not on them already. "The murderous Duke of Redhaven means to slaughter my husband!"

  "I won't," Reginald spluttered. "I – I can't!"

  "Hang it all, man!" hissed the man sitting at his right-hand side. "Do you mean to duck out of a duel here, in front of everyone you know?"

  "I can't!"

  Reginald's friend rose to his feet and whispered urgently into his ear. "You cannot honourably refuse. You have just admitted to insulting the Duke's honour where everyone could hear you. Find your spine, man! Don't be a coward!"

  "Hampstead Heath," said Edward. "A week from now. Dawn."

  "I accept," whispered Reginald, though his eyes pleaded for mercy.

  "I will withdraw my challenge if you tell me where Angelica has gone," said Edward. Reginald's misery was so complete he almost found it in his heart to pity him.

  "I don't know!" Reginald wailed, just as Valentina cut in:

  "We haven't taken her. If you have lost your own fiancée that's your lookout. As you can see, Reginald has not been so careless. And now, Your Grace, unless you are about to wish us joy – which I doubt –"

  "Oh, I'm leaving," said Edward. Valentina was left with her mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish on dry land.

  "Well – good!"

  Edward had never been the type to lower himself to a wrestling match for the last word. He simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, listening to the rustle of shocked whispers that rose up behind him.

  He was no closer to finding Angelica. He had just embroiled himself in a duel the likes of which he had once vowed to avoid ever more.

  He had, however, reduced Reginald Thorne to a snivelling worm on his wedding day, and that was some small comfort.

  Chapter Twenty

  "Faster, Angelica, or you'll never catch me!"

  Angelica barely heard the words as Cecily sped past her, bent low over her horse's neck. The lands around Loxwell Park were excellent for riding – at least, for the likes of Cecily. Angelica had never seen such an accomplished horsewoman. Cecily took her mount sailing over gates and fences that Angelica would never dream of attempting. It was obvious that, no matter what her complaints about boredom and seclusion, country life suited Cecily.

  The three young ladies were racing. At least, Cecily was racing, Angelica was doing her best to keep up, and Jemima was trotting along sedately at the rear.

  "I am the last of the Stanhopes," she said primly every time Cecily tried to cajole a little speed out of her. "It is my duty to continue the family legacy. How am I to do that if I break my neck riding?"

  It was a brisk and delightful spring morning. Cecily rode every day, no matter what the weather, but Angelica only let herself be persuaded when the sun was shining. And today it was glorious – sparkling off Loxwell Lake like gold.

  The ride, the rush of adrenaline, and the wind in her face were almost enough to drive all thoughts of Edward from Angelica's mind.

  She'd had no word from London. Well, how could she? And wasn't that what she wanted, anyway, to be far away from it all – from him?

  There was an Edward who existed in her imagination who was warm and loving, who was kind to her family, who kissed like a devil and treated her like an angel. That was the man who tormented Angelica's distracted days and wakeful nights.

  She was still not certain whether or not that man was real.

  The three girls dismounted their horses at the stables and returned to the house red-cheeked and laughing. Jemima's black riding habit stuck out sorely on the lovely day.

  "I cannot wait to be out of mourning," said Jemima. "Though I can't help but feel that, for the sake of my poor brother, I ought to wear black for the rest of my life."

  "He would not want you to closet yourself away," Cecily assured her. Jemima managed a smile.

  "He certainly never kept himself quiet while he was alive – even while we were both in mourning for my parents!"

  "Don't think on such things," said Cecily, taking Jemima's arm in one hand and Angelica's in the other. "You know that it only makes you feel lonely, and, well – you are not alone."

  "Certainly not," Angelica agreed.

  The secret they shared had served to bond the girls closely in the days Angelica had spent at Loxwell Park. She was glad she had decided to come to Cecily, even though she was missing Edward. The country air seemed to blow more common sense into her head every moment, and the friendship she had found reminded her that a broken heart was not such a great barrier to overcome.

  Angelica felt that, in just a few days' time, she would be able to write to her father and explain herself with equanimity. Not yet, of course. A day or two more was all she needed.... Another few days riding in the sunshine...

  The Duke of Loxwell was waiting for the girls in the hallway. As Cecily ran up to plant a kiss on his bristly cheek, he held out a hand to halt her in her tracks.

  It was then that the three girls noticed that he was red in the face – an even brighter crimson than usual – and fuming with anger.

  "There is no time to change out of your riding things at present," he said, in a low and thunderous tone. "I wish to speak with Miss Stirling immediately in my study."

  Cecily and Jemima glanced at Angelica in alarm. "Who is Miss Stirling, Papa?" asked Cecily, without much hope.

  The Duke crooked his finger at Angelica. "Come along, young Miss. Your adventure, I'm afraid, is quite over."

  Cecily jumped in front of Angelica. "If you are going to speak to Angelica, you must speak to me, too! I am the one at fault here. I concealed her from you."

  She beckoned urgently to Jemima, who rolled her eyes and sighed,

  "Yes, I suppose I ought to take the blame as well. Don't punish Cecily, Your Grace. The fault is entirely mine. I was the first to lie to you."

  "You have all behaved abominably!" snapped the Duke. "To think that my own daughter and my beloved ward would take advantage of my kindness in this way! It is too much, girls! Entirely too much!"

  "Papa, we are not children," said Cecily. "We had good reason to act as we did. You will understand when I have explained it to you –"

  "Let me explain," said Angelica, pushing past her friends. She looked the Duke in the eye. "Your Grace, Cecily and Jemima would never have lied at all if I had not asked them to. You mu
st not blame them too severely. They were only trying to protect me."

  "The only thing I can see that you needed protecting from is the loving, desperately worried father whose letter arrived this morning!" growled the Duke. "He has been writing to the parents of every one of your acquaintances – to the severe detriment of your reputation, I might add! Yet what else was the man to do? You left him in an impossible situation, Miss Stirling!"

  Angelica lifted her chin. "Did he mention that, despite his love, he intends to marry me off to the Duke of Redhaven, whether I wish it or not?"

  "What your father does with you is not my place to question," said the Duke.

  On impulse, Angelica clasped her hands together and sank to her knees. "Your Grace, I fling myself upon your mercy! If I go back to London, I will have to marry the Duke of Redhaven!"

  "That is, if he will still have you," the Duke pointed out, unmoved. "And at this rate, no-one else in society will. Do you truly believe anyone is looking for a runaway bride?"

  Cecily and Jemima both sank to their knees behind Angelica.

  "Papa, please!"

  "Your Grace, think of Redhaven's reputation!"

  "He doesn't even love her, Papa! He played the most abominable deception!"

  "I am not unmoved by your plight," the Duke admitted, "but I cannot stand in the way of a father hoping to be reunited with his lost daughter. Get up, all of you. You will spoil your pretty riding clothes on the ground."

  "As if we care about clothes, Papa!" Cecily protested, but she rose to her feet all the same.

  "Miss Stirling, you will kindly come with me," said the Duke, extending his arm. "I do not relish taking this step, but I am afraid I see no other option. You have not proven yourself trustworthy. I will confine you to your chambers until your parents arrive to take you away."

  "Papa, how can you?" Cecily gasped. Angelica shook her head.

  "Don't fret, Cecily. It can't be helped." Swallowing down her shame, she took the Duke's arm. "I am entirely at your service, Your Grace."

  As they walked together up the elegant spiral staircase of Loxwell House, Angelica could not help but feel that she was walking towards her doom. The click of the lock as the Duke shut her in was the final blow to her freedom.

  No more riding in the sunlight. No more laughing all day with Cecily and Jemima. No more time to think.

  No escape from her marriage to the man who had won her heart without any intention of returning her affection.

  Angelica flung herself on to the bed. She considered bursting into tears, but, on reflection, that seemed entirely too dramatic. Instead, she took up a book from the shelf the Duke and Duchess had provided for their guests, and began to read.

  If the words on the page blurred every now and again as tears filled her eyes, it was of no consequence.

  At least the heroines in her novels were guaranteed a happy ending.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Edward arrived at Loxwell Park a little ahead of Mr Stirling, who had chosen to travel inside the carriage. He could not deny that the ride through the countryside on a day such as this had lifted his spirits. Goodness knew, he had more than enough reason to be unhappy.

  But how could any man be truly downhearted when the prospect of seeing Angelica again lay before him?

  Even if she were to reject him, to refuse their marriage and run from him again, Edward would at least be able to see her. To gaze upon that tangle of blonde hair he had once caught between his fingers. To remind himself of the exact contours of the unruly mouth he had once tamed with a kiss.

  Although he had his suspicions, he still did not know exactly why she had run away. Lily had remained faithful and unforthcoming, save to say that she agreed with Angelica's reasoning entirely. None of Angelica's London friends appeared to know anything about her disappearance.

  Edward did not think less of Mr Stirling for resting in the carriage while Edward rode on ahead. The man looked as though he had not slept a wink until the Duke of Loxwell's letter arrived the previous morning. The relief, when they finally had word of her, was a palpable, almost painful sensation. He had not known how much he missed her until he knew he would see her again.

  Loxwell Park, her chosen sanctuary, was a fine old building in its way. Edward had to admit that it was almost as fine as Redhaven Castle. That was no surprise – the Duke of Loxwell was one of the wealthiest men in England, after all.

  So, Angelica was more used to keeping company with Dukes and their kin than Edward had imagined! That might explain her overconfidence.

  Surely, though, she could not imagine that her friends would help her to another husband. Once news of her running away got out, as it inevitably would, no man in England would willingly have her.

  Who would happily choose a runaway bride?

  "I would," Edward murmured to himself, as he regarded the pretty rose-speckled frontage of Loxwell House. "I choose you, Angelica."

  He waited to ride up the wide, tree-lined driveway until Mr Stirling's carriage caught up with him. It would not have been correct for him to see Angelica before her father did. It was not yet his role to care for and protect her.

  Soon, Edward promised himself. Soon, that frustrating, outspoken, overconfident girl would be entirely his.

  The thought of claiming her as his own filled him with such anticipation that his hands almost trembled at the reins.

  The Duke of Loxwell greeted them at the door himself. He and Edward had met once or twice, before Edward's self-imposed exile. The years had barely changed him. He was still a gruff, straight-backed, whiskery fellow who looked older than his years.

  "My sincerest apologies that I did not write to you the moment your daughter entered my care," he said, bowing deeply to Mr Stirling. "The girls all played a fearful deception upon me. I am ashamed to admit it."

  "We have all been played for fools," sighed Mr Stirling. "As her father, the fault lies chiefly with me. You must not trouble yourself."

  Edward said nothing. Perhaps a more honest man would have admitted that the fault for driving Angelica away was entirely his own. He could not bring himself to say it, and so simply answered the Duke's greeting with a brooding nod.

  "I will take you to see her at once," said the Duke of Loxwell. "We have given her every comfort, but since her deception was revealed, we have not permitted her to leave her chambers."

  "That is quite right," said Mr Stirling.

  Edward pictured Angelica's outrage at being confined to a set of rooms, and almost laughed aloud. She would not appreciate being kept a prisoner!

  The Duke led them up a grand spiral staircase and along a series of corridors. Where Redhaven Castle was a sprawling labyrinth of ancient, winding passageways, Loxwell House was set out in clean, straight lines. Edward wondered, perhaps futilely, whether Angelica would prefer the wildness of the castle.

  The Duke of Loxwell reached a door and jingled through his set of keys. He rapped on the door firmly. "Miss Stirling! Your father and the Duke of Redhaven have come to collect you!"

  No reply came from within the room. Edward imagined Angelica crossing her arms over her chest and glowering in angry silence.

  "Angelica!" called her father. "We are coming in now. Are you decent?"

  Still nothing. The Duke glanced at Mr Stirling for permission and, on receiving a nod, unlocked the door.

  The three men entered a well-appointed sitting room boasting a large fireplace and several comfortable armchairs.

  "Angelica?" called Mr Stirling. "Don't sulk, my dearest. I am not angry with you. I am simply happy to see you again."

  Edward noticed that the door to the bedroom was standing ajar. He strode towards it and pushed it open without knocking.

  "Gentlemen," he said calmly, watching the curtains flutter in the breeze from the open window, "it seems our search is not yet over."

  A thorough search of the house was ordered at once, but, as Edward suspected, it turned up nothing.

  Lady Ceci
ly Balfour was summoned to Angelica's empty rooms, where her father interrogated her at length and with such fierceness that Edward was impressed the young lady bore it.

  Lady Cecily was a tolerably pretty girl with a mass of brown curls and a firm set to her lips. She was dressed in what Edward presumed was the height of fashion, but she had none of the pretensions or silliness he might have expected from a girl of her rank and wealth.

  "I refuse to betray my friend, Papa," she answered the Duke. "And I know you would think less of me if I were to break a confidence."

  The Duke cursed aloud. Cecily didn't even flinch. "Can't you see that we are trying to return Miss Stirling to her family?" he demanded.

  Cecily glanced briefly at Edward. "Miss Stirling does not wish to be returned."

  The Duke's eyes flashed. He was about to explode into another angry outburst. Before his passions overtook him, Edward raised a hand.

  "May I speak to you privately, Lady Cecily?"

  Cecily turned up her nose. It was all too evident what she thought of him. "If you hope to frighten me, Your Grace, you will be sadly disappointed."

  "Far from it. I only wish for a quiet word with you. May I?" he enquired, turning to the Duke.

  Loxwell shrugged. "If you think you can squeeze the truth from her, Redhaven, you are welcome to try."

  Edward led Cecily into the window bay, where sunlight streamed in with a warmth he did not yet feel within him. "I am entirely in your power, Lady Cecily," he said gently.

  "So it would seem."

  "Has Angelica told you the reason she ran away?"

  Cecily gave a little "hm!" and refused to answer.

  "I believe that an enemy of mine gave her some...misinformation about me."

  Cecily met his eyes. "Truly, Your Grace, the information she was given came from the most reliable source."

  Edward could not guess at what that meant. Instead, he changed tack. "I am sorry that you feel the best way to protect your friend is to keep me away from her."

  Cecily shrugged and turned to the window.

  "If you truly knew what lay in my heart, you might have a little pity for me," said Edward, too softly for anyone to hear but Cecily. "Lady Cecily, I do not breathe until I see Angelica again."