Duke of a Gilded Age (43 page)

“I’ll have the man’s guts for garters!” Errol snarled.

Terrified, Belle said nothing, but kept a firm grip on the overhead strap. On the one hand, she was relieved to be free of Errol’s lasciviousness but on the other hand she was frightened the carriage would tip over. If the carriage managed to stay upright, she was petrified at what awaited her at the end of the journey.
I may have to employ a poker to defend my honor!
The brilliant and reasonable plan hatched the afternoon before had been thwarted by the libertine urges of her erstwhile bridegroom.
Why,
oh why has everything suddenly gone so horribly wrong?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Intrepid Explorer

W
HEN
T
HE
L
ANDAU
F
INALLY
C
AME
to a thundering stop, a furious Errol practically kicked the door open and leaped to the ground. An expression of shocked displeasure crossed his face when he found himself in the Caisteal Park courtyard.

“Johnson, how
dare
you behave in such a fashion, and what do you mean by bringing us here!” Errol exclaimed.

With a gracious smile, the driver turned and lifted his hat. “Forgive me, sir, but the name’s Cavendish, and I work for the Duke of Mansbury.”

Errol’s jaw dropped. “Where’s Johnson?”

“Indisposed.”

Belle let herself down from the carriage and edged toward the house just as Wesley rode Kelpie up the drive at a dead run. He reined in his horse and dismounted.

“Are you all right, Belle? I’ve been behind you the entire time.”

Her lips felt numb from fear, but she managed to nod.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind summoning our guests?” he asked.

Without a word, Belle picked up her skirts and hastened inside the house.

Hostility between Wesley and Errol swirled like a cyclone as the two men circled one another.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Errol spat.

“I could ask you the same, Errol. Or perhaps I should call you
Dickie.
”

Errol’s eyes narrowed. “Well, well, well. The American savage isn’t so stupid after all.”

His jaw clenched in anger, Errol took a menacing half step forward. Wesley grinned and raised his fists. “I’m so looking forward to this.”

“As I was looking forward to bedding Annabelle Oakhurst tonight. She has so much passion for such a young naïve girl, but then perhaps you’ve already discovered that for yourself?”

“You’re not fit to speak her name.”

“And you’re going to be sorry you interfered.”

Without warning, Errol darted toward Kelpie, mounted the horse, and spurred him forward—directly at Wesley. Out of pure instinct, Wesley dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the horse’s hooves. Errol brought Kelpie around for another attempt, but Bartleby drove up with Mr. Oakhurst just then, blocking Errol’s way with the carriage. Kelpie reared up on his hind legs in terror, but Errol managed to stay seated. He calmed the horse long enough to deliver one final threat:

“You’d better watch your back, Yankee.”

Errol jerked Kelpie’s reins to the side, urging the gelding across the lawn and into the darkness. Undeterred, Wesley set off in pursuit. Although the sky was clear, insufficient light was cast from the crescent moon to illuminate his way. Nevertheless, he followed the sound of Kelpie’s hooves, muffled as they were by the grass.

Mr. Oakhurst alit from the carriage as Belle, Lady Frederic, Mr. Heathcliff, Constable Dremond, and his assistant poured from the house. The constable glanced around, bewildered. “What’s happened? Where is Sir Errol?”

“Sir Errol stole Wesley’s horse and he rode off across the lawn,” Cavendish said. “Wesley went after him on foot.”

“Oh, no! Wesley can’t outrun a horse. Errol’s sure to escape,” Belle said.

Cavendish held a kerosene lantern in one hand, and a coiled horsewhip in the other.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “His Grace knows that Kelpie will balk at clearing the hedge lining the drive. When Errol is thrown, the duke will have him.”

“Even so, Dickie’s treachery is without measure,” Mr. Heathcliff said. “His Grace needs help.”

Cavendish raised his lantern. “If the constables will accompany me, I’ll light the way.”

Wesley’s breath came in ragged gusts but he forced himself to keep moving. He’d covered a half mile at least, but there was no sign of Errol. Worse, he could no longer hear Kelpie’s hooves. A surge of triumph shot through him when a horse whinnied in the distance. Wesley turned toward the sound, and was rewarded by the sight of Kelpie trotting toward him, riderless. He stroked the horse’s neck.

“Good boy.” He gave the horse a sharp tap on his hindquarters. “Go home.”

Kelpie cantered off as Wesley crept toward a moaning noise. A few steps later, a man’s hat became visible in the moonlight. Wesley hastened over, scanning the immediate area for signs of Errol’s body. From behind a nearby bush, Errol sprang out and tackled him to the ground. Wesley felt fists raining down blows…but it wasn’t the first time in his life he’d been waylaid by a thug. He twisted around and used the tip of his elbow to dislodge Errol with a brutal strike to his ribs. Then, the two men went at each other in a savage ground fight fueled by raw animal hatred.

Belle bit her lip anxiously as she stood at the edge of the grass, watching Cavendish and the constables strike out across the lawn. The glow from the kerosene lantern in Cavendish’s hand bobbed up and down in the dark until even that was swallowed up by darkness. Mr. Heathcliff came to stand beside her.

“I’m devastated by the trouble Dickie has caused. If it’s any consolation, his arrest and conviction may provide his mother the motivation to finally grant me a divorce.”

“How did you come to marry her in the first place?”

“Maude’s a beautiful woman and it was an idle fancy.” He shook his head. “I’ve discovered the truth in the axiom ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure.’ At any rate, I apologize for his misdeeds.”

“The fault is mine. If I hadn’t been so silly, I would never have accepted his proposal.” Belle paused. “I must confess something to you, Grandpapa. When I was on the voyage from America, I led my friends to believe you were a baronet.”

“A baronet?” Mr. Heathcliff echoed, taken aback. “Well, I’ve been called worse.”

“But when your neighbor, Mrs. Stilton, came aboard the
City of New York
from the
Apollo
, she cheerfully laid bare my lie.”

“Ah. I’ve never met Mrs. Stilton, but she knows my wife. I’ve been told by my staff what a dreadful woman she is. Her dog ruined one of my carpets.”

“Although my dear friends forgave me, I find it difficult to forgive myself. I just thought I should tell you before you heard it from somebody else.”

“I know just what to do; I’ll apply to Her Royal Majesty for a baronetcy. I happen to be acquainted with John Ponsonby, Her Majesty’s Private Secretary. When I’m in London next, I’ll speak to him directly. If the baronetcy is granted, you won’t have been a liar, you will have been prescient.”

Belle turned to him, wide-eyed. “You’d do that for me?”

“Why not? I rather fancy the idea of a baronetcy myself.”

Sweat streamed down Wesley’s face as he sat astride Errol and pummeled his face. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the glow of a lantern coming ever closer.
Cavendish!

“Do you yield, sir?” Wesley’s words sounded muffled due to his swollen lip.

Errol lay limp. “I yield.”

Exhausted from the battle, Wesley struggled to stand. He staggered off a few paces and drew his sleeve across his face. Already the numerous cuts and bruises he’d sustained were beginning to make their presence known. He managed to grin as Cavendish and the two constables appeared.

“He’s all yours,” Wesley managed.

Cavendish suddenly gasped. “Look out!”

Wesley turned just as the blade of a knife swooped down in a deadly arc. He tried to dodge it, but his reaction was too slow. He cried out as he felt the steel slice into the skin across his chest. Errol’s arm drew back once more, but before he could strike, a horse whip curled around his wrist. He screamed with pain as the whip yanked him sideways. The bloody blade went flying from his hand and disappeared into the darkness.