Duke of a Gilded Age (41 page)

“If you finish all of your dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow, and lunch thereafter, I welcome your company.”

Belle gasped. “That’s not fair!”

“Nevertheless, those are my terms.”

With a rebellious and unladylike snort, Belle picked up her fork again and dove into her chicken pie. Mr. Oakhurst beamed.

“That’s more like it,” he said.

“Your Grace, I urge you to spend the night at Brimstone Manor. We’ll take a train to Mansbury first thing tomorrow morning,” Mr. Heathcliff said.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Wesley managed.

Mr. Heathcliff rang the bell for his butler, who arrived promptly. “Trask, have Anders bring in our guests’ luggage and dismiss the cab,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “His Grace will be staying with us tonight.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And find suitable quarters for the duke’s valet, Mr. Cavendish,” Mr. Heathcliff said.

“Yes, sir.”

Wesley sensed Mr. Heathcliff wished to speak to him in private. “Cavendish, could you check on my luggage?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Cavendish said, with a bow.

After Trask and Cavendish left the drawing room, Mr. Heathcliff offered to pour drinks. Wesley was beginning to feel the strain of anticipation.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Mr. Heathcliff.”

“I won’t keep you in suspense a moment longer,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “Sir Errol Richard Blankenship, Annabelle’s fiancé, is my stepson, Dickie. He has the face of an angel, but a bigger devil was never born.”

Wesley gasped in shock and his jaw fell open. “You’re joking!”

“Amongst his other crimes, which include despoiling several young maids in my employ, he stole the ring you see portrayed in my first wife’s painting. I couldn’t prove it, but all circumstances pointed to him as the culprit.”

“Annabelle is wearing that ring, this very moment,” Wesley said. “I’ve seen it for myself.”

“That’s my proof, I’m afraid.” Mr. Heathcliff shook his head, sadly. “I’m sorry she fell in love with Dickie, but the marriage can’t take place.”

“She’s not in love with him any more,” Wesley said. “Perhaps she was a little, at first, but she since changed her mind.”

“Her change of heart coincided with her acquaintance with you, I imagine. Why didn’t she throw him over?”

Heat suffused Wesley’s face at Mr. Heathcliff’s inference, but he had no wish to refute it. “Although Annabelle wouldn’t be specific, she indicated a sense of obligation. In addition, Errol has threatened her father in some fashion.”

“Dickie is despicable enough for that,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “The man is a predator and he had Annabelle in his sights.”

“Are you suggesting Sir Errol came to Mansbury to prey upon her?” Wesley asked. “I can’t understand why, Mr. Heathcliff, unless it was to revenge himself upon you.”

“It was for money, of course,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “Upon my death, my wife will receive a modest stipend. The bulk of my estate, however, goes to Annabelle. Dickie knew of my estrangement from Lionel and so thought himself safe from discovery.”

“I said from the beginning he had the eyes of a snake,” Wesley spat. “When I get my hands on Errol, I’m going to thrash him.”

“Mind that you don’t kill the man,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “I mean to have him arrested so he can rot in jail.”

“If Sir Errol has any warning of his impending arrest, he’ll flee,” Wesley said.

“Agreed,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “We must go about it carefully.”

“Excuse me for asking, but how did you know Mr. Cavendish was my valet?”

“From the newspaper articles, Your Grace.”

“The newspapers have it slightly wrong, Mr. Heathcliff. In addition to being my valet, Cavendish is a very good friend.”

Since her father didn’t have the use of both arms, Belle drove the gig to Caisteal Park. As she urged the horse onto the estate’s long driveway, a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of oaks overhead, painting dappled shadows on the ground below. The ivy and ferns snaking up the tree trunks resembled ruffles and lace. Unbidden, the image of Errol’s shirts flashed into Belle’s mind, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

“I do love this place,” she said. “It’s so very beautiful.”

“You didn’t think so when Septimus Parker lived here,” Mr. Oakhurst said. “Your improved opinion must have something to do with Caisteal Park’s new owner.”

“There’s truth in that,” she admitted. “My admiration can now be freely bestowed.”

“Annabelle…I don’t wish to see you married to a man you don’t love.”

“Papa, let’s not discuss anything disagreeable today. I’m determined to be of good cheer.”

“Be of good cheer, then, child. I forbid you to marry Sir Errol, and that’s final.”

Belle blanched. “You can’t do that!”

“I should have done it sooner, but I’ve not been thinking properly. I believe the gunshot wound addled my brain.”

“I
must
marry Errol, Papa.” She gulped. “I must marry him or he has promised to sue.”

“Let him sue.” Mr. Oakhurst chuckled. “I’m an attorney, after all.”

“But we can’t pay the damages!”

“The damages, if any, would be minor. I can easily pay, and it would be worth it to see you happy.”

“You can’t pay damages and also the mortgage, Papa! You’ll be ruined, and it will be all my fault.”

“How do you know about the mortgage?” Mr. Oakhurst regarded his daughter in astonishment. “That debt has been repaid already, Annabelle.”

“What?”

“The loan was temporary, to make sure we had emergency funds for our trip. Is
that
what Errol has been holding over your head? How dastardly of him!”

Speechless, Belle stared first at her father, and then straight ahead.
Can this be true? It must be, since my father wouldn’t lie.
Her hands trembled on the reins.
I don’t have to marry Errol after all?
As the gig emerged from underneath the trees, the sunlight hit her full force. Tears of relief gathered at the corners of her eyes and streamed down toward her chin. Her father gently took the reins from her and brought the horse to a halt in front of the house.

“Set the break, child,” he said.

Barely able to see what she was doing, Belle complied. Mr. Oakhurst embraced his daughter as best he could, and patted her back soothingly.

“Thank you for trying to take care of me, Annabelle. You’re a wonderful daughter.” He kissed her on the cheek. “And if I had two good arms, I would show Errol exactly what I think of him. As it is, I think I’ll leave that to Wesley.”

Belle laughed through her tears. “Oh, Papa!”

A footman appeared to assist Belle and her father down from the gig. Before they entered the house, Belle peeled off her glove and removed Errol’s ring from her finger.

“Will you keep this in your pocket for me, Papa? I can’t bear to touch it a moment longer.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Best Laid Plans

A F
OOTMAN
M
ET
T
HE
C
AB
as it arrived at Caisteal Park from the Mansbury train station. Glistening in the late afternoon sun, the house and its immediate grounds had never looked better, and Wesley’s heart swelled with pride. Mr. Heathcliff nodded his approval.

“You’ve an exquisite property here, Your Grace,” he said. “I’m duly impressed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Heathcliff,” Wesley said. “I can still scarcely believe my good fortune.” He spied an unfamiliar horse and gig tied to a hitching post nearby. “I do believe I have a visitor.”

“Why don’t I have a look around the grounds and stretch my legs for a few moments before coming inside?” Mr. Heathcliff suggested. “That way, you may greet your visitor properly.”

“Take your time, sir. Cavendish, will you show Mr. Heathcliff to the garden?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Cavendish said. “It’s a fine day for a walk, I must say.”

As Cavendish and Mr. Heathcliff moved off toward the flower garden, Wesley bounded toward the house. Mrs. Blount greeted him at the door.

“I hope you had a good trip, Your Grace,” she said.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Blount. Yes, it was quite successful, and I’ve brought someone home with me. Could you please prepare a room for my guest, Mr. Heathcliff?”

“Right away, sir.”

“Who has come to call?”

“Mr. Oakhurst and Miss Oakhurst, sir. They are in the drawing room with Lady Frederic.”

To Mrs. Blount’s bewildered surprise, Wesley gave her an exuberant smile.

“
Thank
you, Mrs. Blount! You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

“Why…you’re welcome, sir,” she managed.

Wesley bounded down the hall and burst into the drawing room. When Belle caught sight of him, she rose and took a half-step forward. The soft, sweet expression on her face made him want to turn a handspring. Instead, he removed his hat, tossed it onto the nearest table with a flick of his wrist, and strode toward Belle like a man possessed.

“Oh, hello, Wesley,” Lady Frederic said. “I didn’t expect your return so soon.”

Wesley opened his arms to Belle. With a cry, she threw herself into his embrace. As his arms encircled her, Wesley closed his eyes for a few precious moments and surrendered to the indescribable sensations her body invoked within him.

“My beautiful Belle,” he whispered. “I’m never going to let you go.”

“You don’t have to. My father has forbidden me to marry Errol.”

So overwhelmed with emotion was he that Wesley didn’t hear Belle at first. “You don’t have to marry Errol, and I’ve brought someone with me to prove it.”

As their words finally sank in, Wesley and Belle pulled back slightly and stared at one another in confusion.

“Wait…your father has forbidden the marriage?” he asked.

Her words overlapped his. “Someone to prove what?”

“Would somebody like to explain what’s happening?” Lady Frederic interjected.

Over his mother’s shoulder, the window view to the garden afforded Wesley a glimpse of Cavendish and Mr. Heathcliff. He caught Mr. Oakhurst’s eye and gave him a nod.

“I didn’t go to London, as I led you to believe, Mother,” Wesley said. “Instead, I went to Gloucester on a matter of personal business.” He grasped Belle by the hand and pulled her toward the door. “I’ll let Mr. Oakhurst explain, while I introduce Annabelle to her grandfather.”