An Unlikely Duchess (21 page)

“And how will I know that you will not ride away in the meantime?” she said.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I presume that for reasons of your own you will not wish to come inside the house with me. And indeed, I do not intend to enter it myself through the front entrance. You may wait, then, in sight of the stables. I would be foolish indeed to try to escape on foot, would I not? You yourself will see me if I leave the stables and try to ride away without you. I shall take you up in my carriage a little way down the driveway where no one is likely to see you.”

“I shall be waiting,” she said.

Mr. Porterhouse, taking his horse into the stables a few minutes later and noting that the giant spy was still on duty there, had no doubt that she would. And he had every intention of taking her up with him and being well on his way to London with her before both he and she were missed and before anyone made the connection between the two absences.

It would be London this time. London, where he could lose both himself and her while he made negotiations with her father to marry her and save her from disgrace. Her dowry, after all, would be worth far more to him than the paltry jewels would be, though they would pay his bills until his marriage.

***

Josephine kept her eyes on the stables even though she tried as far as possible to stay out of sight. She was feeling a combination of elation, anxiety, and terror. Elation because she had after all and singlehandedly confronted Mr. Porterhouse and forced him into both admitting that he had her jewels and agreeing to give them up to her. How she would enjoy showing them to Mr. Villiers later that day and seeing his amazement that she had had the coinage and resourcefulness to recover them without his aid at all.

She also felt some anxiety. Experience had taught her not to trust Mr. Porterhouse. She did not want to be made a fool of by him yet again. And there was always the possibility that he had a horse all tethered and ready on another part of the estate. Perhaps he was even now making his escape while she stood there waiting for him.

But she did not think so. He had not been expecting either her or Mr. Villiers that morning and would have no reason to have a horse in readiness for an escape. She did not think she had any reason to be unduly anxious. Though, of course, there was the problem of what to do with her own horse when she got into Mr. Porterhouse’s carriage. She could not just turn it loose. It was, after all, not her horse. And would not the Hennessys worry if she did not return within a reasonable time after her departure? She would tie the horse to a tree, she decided, but leave it in a place where it would be seen and cared for eventually. And perhaps she could persuade Mr. Porterhouse to run back to the stables in order to send a groom with a message to Hawthorn House. Merely a message to say that she was safe and would return before nightfall.

But the feeling that tended to dominate all was one of some terror. What had Miss Hope meant by saying that the Duke of Mitford was at the house and awaiting Mr. Porterhouse? The Duke of Mitford?
Her
Duke of Mitford? Had he come in pursuit of her? And had he found her so easily? But why had he come after her? What could he want with her if he knew what she had been doing for the past week?

And if the duke was in pursuit of her, where were Papa and Grandpapa? Were they at Deerview Park too? Oh, dear, what sort of a mess had she got herself into? And all she had intended to do was go to Aunt Winifred’s to ask advice on breaking the news to Papa that she did not wish to marry anyone as grand as a duke. Was it possible that so much could have resulted from that ill-conceived idea?

Well, she decided as die paced the grass at the side of the driveway, not removing her eyes from the stables, when this was all over and she was finally at home again, she would listen in patience to all the lectures she would receive. They would all be deserved. And then she was going to change. Never again would she act without thinking first. She was going to grow up and become a dignified and decorous lady. It was high time. She was fast approaching her one and twentieth birthday.

“Miss Middleton?”

The voice came from behind her and almost unseated her from her side saddle. And now look where her daydreaming had led her! She whirled about to face Mr. Villiers, who was on foot.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in exasperation.

“You are supposed to be in the house,” she said. “Why are you not?”

“Will you get down from there,” he said, “and tell me what on earth you think you are about?” He sounded more than exasperated. He sounded downright annoyed. Oh, dear.

Josephine set her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her to the ground. She smiled foolishly up at him. “I could not stay at home,” she said.

“That would appear to be the story of your life,” he said. “What were you doing? Hoping that your man would just happen to come out of the stables and ride obligingly toward you?”

“And what are you doing?” she asked. “I thought you were to call at the house and confront him. ”

“He has been from home ever since I arrived,” he said. “I played billiards and I conversed with Lord Parleigh until we had exhausted every topic known to man. But he has not come back. In the end I had to agree to stay to luncheon and made an excuse to come outside for some air. I have been walking along the driveway in the hope that he would return this way. Now I am glad he did not. In a moment I am going to set you on that horse again. But not before I have had your solemn promise to ride it home again without stopping. I have never known a more pestilential female, if you will pardon me for saying so. And you see how you have forced me into unpardonable rudeness?”

“You are a very kind man,” she said, “for I know you are fearing for my safety. But you need not be anxious. I am about to recover my jewels, sir, and all without any male support at all. What do you think of that?”

She had been going to keep it a secret, she thought. It would have been so much more satisfactory to hold up the box of jewels in her hands and nonchalantly mention the fact that they were recovered. But she was stung by his typical male domineering ways.

“What?” he said.

“I am about to recover them,” she said. “I found Mr. Porterhouse, you see, and have had a very satisfactory talk with him. He has agreed to return my property.”

“Where and when?” the duke asked, standing very still and looking at her just as if she had two heads.

“Immediately,” she said, smiling at him. “The jewels are not here, of course. I did not really expect that they would be. They are at his aunt’s, a two-hour drive away. He is going to get them. And I am going with him. I do not trust him to bring them back here to me, you see.”

“And that is why you are waiting here,” he said. It was not a question. “He is going to take you up in his carriage and you are to go and fetch your jewels.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good Lord,” he said. “Good Lord! ”

Josephine smiled at him in some triumph.

“Good Lord!” he said again. “How have you succeeded in living this long, ma’am, without a brain?”

Josephine’s smile faded.

“I suppose,” he said, “that it has not struck you that he is abducting you again?”

“Abducting me?” she said. “How foolish. He knows that I do not wish to marry him. And he said himself that he will be glad to have this whole charade at an end. That was his exact word.”

The Duke of Mitford rocked on his heels. He appeared to be drawing breath to resume speech, but the sound of horses’ hooves from behind them had him grabbing for her arm and drawing her off the driveway and behind the large oak trees that grew along its length. Her horse, they both noticed belatedly, was grazing on the pass at the side of the driveway.

“We must have been seen,” he said in exasperation a minute later. “They were almost on top of us. I could cheerfully shake you.”

He had a firm grip of her upper arms and could easily have suited action to words. He looked down at her and shook his head instead. “It is very fortunate for you that I came along when I did,” he said.

Her eyes widened suddenly. “Oh, Paul,” she said, “you will never guess what.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“The Duke of Mitford is here,” she said. “Here. At Deerview Park. We met a Miss Hope and a gentleman whose name I have forgotten, and they said that the duke was waiting at the house to speak with Mr. Porterhouse. Whatever can it mean?”

“I don’t know,” the duke said, releasing her arms in order to scratch his head. “But Porterhouse did tell you that he knows the duke. Perhaps they are close friends.”

“You do not think he has come after me?” Josephine asked.

“Perhaps,” the duke said. “Perhaps he felt slighted when he found you gone. He is insufferably arrogant, after all, and would not take kindly to such rejection.”

Josephine looked at him with wide eyes. “It is a good thing he has not found me, then,” she said. What do you think he would do?”

The Duke of Mitford shrugged. “Probably wallop you and take you back home to marry you,” he said. “Dukes are notorious for having their own way, you know. Now, ma’am, what am I to do with you?”

“Perhaps if you are really concerned for my safety,” she suggested, “you could follow Mr. Porterhouse’s carriage. He should be along at any moment now.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “If by chance I lose sight of the carriage, your doom will be certain. I have no intention of taking such a risk.”

“Then I shall have to go alone,” she said. “I am not chicken-hearted, sir.”

“No,” he said, “just brainless. I shall have to give up trying to see Porterhouse today, I see, in order to take you home myself. Only so will I be certain that you get there. You will come with me now to the stables to get my curricle. I would prefer that you not be seen, but you seem to have met a goodly number of Lord Parleigh’s guests anyway. What does it matter if you also meet a few of his grooms?”

“Oh,” Josephine said, “you cannot stop me. You have no right. You are not my father or my brother. Or my husband, either.”

“Very well,” he said, “then I will just have to turn you over to someone who is. And I think it high time I did so, anyway. I cannot imagine how I got drawn into this highly scandalous situation. Come, ma’am, we will go and find out Mr. Bartholomew Middleton.”

Josephine caught at his arm as he turned away toward the driveway. “No!” she said. “Don’t, please. Bart will be unbearably cross. And I will be mortified to have our meeting a public thing, as it will inevitably be in that house. Besides, think what the Hennessys will say. And I am so close to recovering my jewels. He has actually admitted taking them. I will leave it to you, then. You go and confront him now. I shall come with you. He should be in the stables himself soon.”

“I will have you a safe four miles away before I do any such thing,” the duke said. “And I intend taking you that four miles myself. Now. Take my arm. We are going to walk to the stables.”

Why, oh, why had she been daydreaming a few minutes before? Josephine asked herself as she took his arm obediently. If she had only heard him coming, she could have ridden among the trees and hidden from him. And soon she would have been on her way to fetch her jewels. Instead, here she was having to play the part of the helpless female again merely because a man had chosen to play tyrant. She was certainly becoming disillusioned with Mr. Paul Villiers.

She looked hopefully about her when they reached the coachhouse, but there was no sign of Mr. Porterhouse. She wished and wished that he would appear so that Mr. Villiers would be forced into a confrontation. And then she would be on hand to help too, just as she had done the last time. It was so very tiresome to be taken home like a little child while he planned all the fun for himself later. Doubtless he would find some way to set the Hennessys over her as guards the next time he left, too.

They had a slow journey back to Hawthorn House, with Josephine’s horse tied behind the curricle. They spoke scarcely a word. He looked cross, she thought when she glanced at him at one point in order to make some other comment on the strange appearance of the Duke of Mitford in the neighborhood. She closed her mouth instead. She was beginning to feel just a little remorseful. He had after all been very kind to her and had given up almost the whole of a week to her affairs. He was even willing to put himself in some danger for her sake.

It was not his fault that he was a man and must forever be imagining that women could not look after themselves.

“There now,” he said, when he finally lifted her down outside Mr. Hennessy’s door, “you are safe despite yourself.”

She would have made a suitable rejoinder if he had not led her up the steps and into the house without any delay at all. And Mr. Hennessy appeared out of his office, and Mrs. Hennessy came down the stairs, and Mr. Villiers laid a hand over hers on his arm and smiled fondly down at her.

“Josephine rode to meet me,” he said. “I wonder if she will still be doing so after ten years of marriage.”

“Oh,” Mr. Hennessy said, “wait just five years, my dear sir. Just five years. She will be running to meet you to tell you about the newest bauble or bonnet she has been buying.”

“Harvey!” his wife said, laughing.

“Will you, Josephine?” Mr. Villiers was asking, his gray eyes smiling warmly at her.

“Only if you insist that I go shopping, as you did yesterday,” she said, watching as he lifted her hand to his lips. His breath was warm against her skin.

Chapter 13

Susanna was feeling restless. She had gone inside after her stroll with Sir Thomas Burgess, but Bart was not in his room and there was nothing to do in hers except pace back and forth from the window to the door, worrying about everything her mind touched upon.

What were Papa and Grandpapa doing at that particular moment? And Penny and Gussy? Were they all worrying about Jo, and about her and Bart? But of course they would be worrying. What were they doing, though? Where were Papa and Grandpapa searching? And they would be searching, having discovered that none of the three of them had arrived at Aunt Winifred’s.