The Black Duke's Prize (19 page)

The look in her eyes sharpened. "I believe it
was at the Hillary ball, Your Grace," she replied in a tired voice.

She understood. Just in time Nicholas stopped
himself from smiling at her. Ralston pushed her toward the nearest chair, and
she reached out to hold onto the back to steady herself. As she did so,
Nicholas got a glimpse of her wrist, and couldn't restrain his angry hiss at
the sight of the bruised flesh.

Ralston looked at him sharply, and Nick reached up
to rub his shoulder and rudely seated himself before Katherine. "You may
have heard," he drawled. "Had something of a firearms accident
recently."

With a quick glance at him Katherine seated
herself, and her uncle and Gladstone followed suit. At Nicholas's nod Gladstone
pulled several heavy pieces of paper out of his case and laid them on the
table. "You have the deed, Mr; Smith . . . ah . . . Ralston?"
Gladstone questioned.

Nicholas had had a difficult time not sneering as
Ralston explained his reason for using a false name. As he told it, he was
worried that his family's monetary situation would reflect badly on his niece,
and so he had taken this extra precaution to keep the Ralston name from being
bandied about London. His concern for his family name hadn't kept him from
kidnapping Kate, but Nicholas refrained for the moment from pointing that out.

"I have the deed," Ralston said, patting
a thick envelope in front of him. "Do you have the money?"

"Such vulgarity, Mr. Ralston," Nicholas
said reprovingly, examining his fingernails,

"I am only concerned for my niece's future,
Your Grace," Ralston replied.

"Of course. We all are," Nicholas agreed,
glancing over at Katherine and trying not to put any additional meaning into
the words.

''We have the agreed-on amount, in currency, as you
requested," Gladstone said, looking through his case againand glancing up
briefly.

"Splendid. Let's get on with it, then, shall
we?" Simon Ralston pulled his chair forward and craned his neck at the
papers Gladstone had produced, looking to Nicholas like some sort of vulture.

"With Your Grace's permission?" his
secretary requested.

Nicholas nodded regally, and Gladstone slid the
papers over to Ralston. "You have there four copies of the agreement
signing over the deed. His Grace has already signed them as recipient of the
deed. First you must sign them as guardian, and then Miss Ralston shall sign
them as heir."

Ralston nodded impatiently, grabbed the pen from
the desk, and he dipped it in ink. He scrawled his signature on all four pieces
of paper, then slid them over to Katherine. "Sign them, Kate," he
said.

Nicholas heard the threat in his unctuous tone and
had to restrain a growl as Katherine shook her head. She had balked at the idea
all along, and she was stubborn as the tide, but Nicholas had to make her
understand that she needed to sign the papers so he could proceed with the plan
he and Gladstone had hastily concocted on the way north.

"Please, Miss Ralston," he drawled,
leaning forward and flicking his long fingers carelessly at the papers,
"sign these things so we may conclude this odious business."

She glanced up at him, and he held her gaze for a
long moment. Then, her hand shaking, she picked up the pen and dipped it in the
well. After a long hesitation she signed each one of the papers and then
dropped the pen back onto the table.

"Now the money," Ralston snarled as
Gladstone took the papers back and examined them.

"First things first, Mr. Ralston," the
secretary demurred.

"The deed, if you please. You understand, I
must be absolutely certain that it is the original," he continued,
looking at it closely, "with nothing added or removed that could possibly
call the legality of the document into question." Finally he nodded and
handed it over to his employer. "Everything seems in order, Your
Grace."

"Very well," Nicholas said, and Gladstone
lifted the heavy case he had been guarding with his life since their departure
from London. Carrying a hundred thousand pounds about was enough to make even
Nicholas edgy.

Gladstone set the valise on the table in front of
Katherine, evading Ralston's grab. "Here you are, Miss Ralston," he
said. "Payment in full for Crestley Hall."

Ralston again reached for it, but Nicholas
negligently raised a hand. "You know, Ralston," he drawled, "you
really should take care to dress your niece in clothing more befitting her
station."

"Beg pardon?" Ralston muttered, glancing
up at him. "I said I seem to recall your niece dressed more fashionably
in London."

Ralston, still eyeing the money case, cleared his
throat. "Well, we live more simply in the country, Your Grace," he
explained absently.

"Ah," Nicholas said noncommittally,
privately seething. "I see. Now that I think of it, though, I was
particularly fond of the riding habit she wore several mornings ago in the
garden at Hampton House. Do you recall the one I mean, Katherine?"

Ralston's face went white, and he started to rise.
Nicholas reached into his coat pocket and produced a pistol, which he laid on
the table in front of him.

"Yes, Nicholas, I remember the one you refer
to," Katherine answered. Her eyes glinted when she raised her head to
look at him.

"Nicho―" Her uncle stopped short;
staring at his niece.

"What is going on here?"

"Do you know that you could be sent up to
Newgate for life for kidnapping and theft of property?" Nicholas asked
casually, leaning forward and dropping the affected drawl from his voice.
"Actually, though, with my influence I am certain I could arrange to have
you hanged for it."

Ralston blanched. "I don't know what you're
talking about," he stammered.

"Oh, I think you do," Nicholas murmured.
He looked over at Kate. "Do you have anything in mind for your uncle, my
love, or may I see to this for you?"

She glared at Simon Ralston for a moment. "As
long as you don't kill him and I never have to see him again, I don't care what
you do," she said flatly.

Nicholas nodded. He reached into his coat again and
produced a large roll of currency. He tossed it at Ralston, who caught it as it
slapped against his chest. "That is one thousand pounds. I suggest you use
it wisely, for you will receive nothing more. I also suggest that you use it to
leave the country, perhaps for the colonies. The Americas are rumored to be a land
of great opportunity."

"You can't make me leave," Ralston spat
out. "I am Kate's guardian."

"And now you will be her guardian from across
the Atlantic," Nicholas snapped. "Don't try me further, Ralston. As
you may have heard, I have very little patience. If it were not for Katherine's
request, I would kill you for what you've done to her." He shoved the
pistol over to his secretary, who picked it up and aimed it at Ralston.
"See that he gathers his things together. He will be leaving in one quarter
hour. Make certain he takes with him nothing belonging to this estate."

"With pleasure, Your Grace," Gladstone
muttered, smiling grimly as he motioned Ralston to his feet.

The two men left the room, and Nicholas rose and
made his way around the desk. "Katherine?" he said softly, taking
the seat beside her.

She hurled herself against his chest, and he
enfolded her in his arms. She sobbed brokenly against his neck, clinging to
him tightly. "I knew you would come," she whispered, "I knew
you would come."

"How could I not?" he replied, burying
his face in her long black hair.

Finally she calmed a little and raised her
tear-stained face to look at him. "So now Crestley is yours, after
all."

He shook his head and handed her the deed.
"Crestley may be in my name, but it is yours, and always shall be.
Consider me its . . . guardian angel."

She reached out and touched the valise. "If
Crestley is still mine, then this money is still yours."

He shook his head, raising a finger to her lips
when she began to protest. "We shall discuss that later."

He pulled her closer and stood, lifting her in his
arms. Abruptly he deposited her back on the other chair, grimacing at her
surprised look at such cavalier treatment. "Just a moment," he said,
and walked to the window. "Jack, get in here!" he bellowed, and then
returned to her. "I am truly sorry, and I intend to make up for my lack of
chivalry at a later date, but I'm certain that if I attempt to carry you up to
your bedchamber, I shall likely dump both of us on the stairs."

''Your wound!" she said with a gasp, reaching
out to touch his sleeve.

"Damnably inconvenient," he acknowledged
ruefully. "I can walk, then," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"I know," he teased softly, "but I
am attempting to rescue you, so please indulge me."

"Your Grace?"

"Jack, will you be so kind as to carry Miss
Ralston up to her bedchamber for me?" he asked, rising again.

"With pleasure, Your Grace."

Jack stepped into the room and lifted Katherine's
petite form in his arms. Nicholas followed them up the stairs and into the
bedchamber she indicated. At the sight of the chain locked to the bedpost he
swore long and loudly. "I should have killed him," he snarled,
flinging the chain against the wall. Noticing that Jack was still holding Katherine
and that both were watching him somewhat nervously, he motioned at the bed.
"Set her down, if you please."

The groom did as he asked and stepped away from the
bed. "Thank you, Jack," Katherine murmured.

"Find me some bandages and liniment, and be quick
about it." Nicholas instructed. "And see if there's another female in
the house." The groom nodded and headed out of the room. Nicholas
hesitated, then went to the door and shut it.

"Now, my sweet, you must continue to think of
me as your guardian angel, for that is all I shall be for the next few
moments."

She looked at him, squinting one eye, then nodded.
"Yes, Angel."

He helped her out of her gown, dumping the ugly
thing into the comer. Her dirty, ripped shift came next, and he growled at the
sight of her bruised thigh and shoulder, though his emotions at the sight of
the rest of her were far from angry. She was breathtaking. He swiftly helped
her under the covers and pulled them up to her neck.

Jack knocked, then opened the door when Nicholas acknowledged
him. The groom carried a tray loaded with several strips of cloth, some
liniment, and a bowl of clean water. At Nicholas's gesture he set them on the
chair by the bed. "Your Grace, the only other person here 'sides us is the
cook, and she's snoring downstairs with an empty bottle of port for
company." He scowled. "I wouldn't want the likes of her up
here."

"Thank you, Jack," Nicholas said.
"I'll take care of it, then. Please go see how Gladstone is doing. I want
the two of you to see Ralston on the stage to Bristol." He dug more money
out of his pocket and handed it to his groom. "And make certain he doesn't
get off until he reaches the coast."

"Yes, Your Grace." He started for the
door, then hesitated and turned around. "And milady, Your Grace?" he
asked hesitantly.

Nicholas frowned. "I shall be a perfect
gentleman, Jack. And having two men in here seeing to her injuries would not do
her much good."

This time Jack shut the door himself. Nicholas
gingerly removed his jacket, dumped it over the back of the chair, and sat on
the edge of the bed. Katherine watched as he rolled up his sleeves.

''This will likely hurt like the devil," he
said apologetically, putting a small measure of laudanum in a glass and
holding her up to drink it.

He pulled her left hand out from under the covers
and, gently as he could, cleaned the rope burns and cuts. He then smeared
liniment over the bruises and bound her wrist firmly with the clean cloth. He
repeated the process with her right wrist, and then, after a hesitation, pulled
the covers down below her shoulders.

"Are you certain you're a guardian
angel?" she asked, trying to smile and failing miserably, her eyes on his
face.

He cleared his throat. "You have no idea what
a challenge this is for me, but yes, I remain faithfully so."

He rubbed more liniment into the bruise on her
shoulder, and covered it loosely with a cloth. He pulled the covers up again,
then stood and raised the sheets up on her left side to expose her thigh. Again
he rubbed liniment into the angry purple bruise and lightly wrapped a cloth
around her leg, so the oily stuff wouldn't come off onto the bed sheets.

That done, he covered her again and removed the
 
medicines to her dressing table before he
returned to her side to gaze down at her face. The lines of worry had eased,
and she was nearly asleep. He supposed he shouldn't have found it terribly
flattering that a woman could doze off while he touched her so intimately, but
the obvious trust she showed him affected him deeply. Unable to resist, he
leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead.