Devotion (51 page)

"Your Grace?"
came
the feminine voice.

His heart jumped. He swiftly turned, Maria's name on the tip of his tongue.

" 'Tis
only I," Laura said, and smiled timidly. "By the look on Your Grace's features, you hoped I was Maria. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Salterdon straightened. He adjusted the sleeves on his black coat and recalled how Maria had helped him into it earlier that day, before the madness and mayhem.

Laura moved to him. He noted there was something different about her. She appeared stronger. Her eyes were vibrant with determination.

"Lady Dunsworthy," he said, and offered her a slight bow. "I owe you an immense debt of gratitude for your act of courage this evening. Had
Edgcumbe
managed to get Maria away from the estate—
"

"You would have done something very noble I'm sure to get her back. Maria has a way of doing that to people, I think.
Bolstering their strength and courage.
Perhaps because she's so brimming with both
herself
."

He swallowed.

"It took a great deal of courage for her to leave you, I'm sure. It took a great deal of courage to remain here as well. Her devotion to you was powerful and moving. Her strength of conviction inspired me. She made me realize that to love is to sacrifice. She sacrificed her heart and soul by remaining with you, knowing you were to marry me. What more can anyone sacrifice, Your Grace, than the very core of their being?"

"What are you trying to tell me, Laura?"

"What is all of this without love, Your Grace?" She looked around her, at the vast treasure-lined walls. "All the gold and silver cannot keep us warm when we're old or content when we're ill."

"You're in love with someone," he said softly and smiled at her gently.

"I would marry you, of course, as you would marry me.
Because of obligation.
I only know, that when
Edgcumbe
was killing those people, and the possibility crossed my mind that he might well kill me too, my thoughts were not of regret for never getting to experience being a duchess . . . but of never holding—-"

"Mine and Maria's child in my arms," he said.

Laura smiled. "I knew Your Grace would understand." Laura turned and moved a short distance down the corridor before pausing and looking back. "She said you were special. I believe her."

He remained where he stood, his hands in his pockets while below him music began to filter up the stairs. Obviously, the help had managed to mop the blood off the floor and walls. God forbid that the deaths of two people (albeit servants) would stop the aristocracy from enjoying their own company.

Turning back for the door, he shoved it open and
walked inside. Basingstoke lifted his head from the pillow and raised one eyebrow.

The duchess looked up, her eyes briefly widening, her lips curling in smug satisfaction. "I knew you would be back."

Gracefully, Salterdon crossed the room, his gaze fixed on his grandmother's features.

He stopped before her and glanced at Basingstoke. His brother's eyes were twinkling. They
said.,
Go on, I dare you. Stand up to hen Make me proud for one time in your miserable life.

Bastard.

The duchess lifted her hand to him. He bent over it, kissed it, and said, "My
darling
Grandmother . . . go
to hell."

Noblesse shifted beneath him, pawed the ground and trotted in place, vitalized by the cold, midnight air and the anticipation of the ride ahead. Having reached the summit of the hill highest above Thorn Rose, Trey looked back on the manse. Sprawled across the lea, its every window ablaze with light, it glittered like crystal amid fire. He could hear music—only it wasn't the thin tones of the orchestrated violins, but the music in his head which kept singing.
Maria. Maria. Maria's Song
softly as angels' sighs.

Turning Noblesse into the dark, he rode the stallion down the road . . . toward
Huddersfield
.