To Marry a Marquess (31 page)

Drake questioned one of the gentlemen who was at the hotel. The man told him the earl's signet ring was found on his burnt body. Drake hated to admit it, but a part of him reveled at the man's death. Now that Wendover was gone, Drake would travel back to the Boxing Boar Inn and find out exactly what had transpired between Nightham and Victoria.

Had they truly been married? No vows had been recorded at the church. Something was definitely askew. There had been no witnesses, and the local vicar had denied servicing any such ceremony.

Drake wanted to marry Victoria as soon as possible, but he wanted to clear her name first, and if that meant going back to the Boxing Boar Inn, he would do so without Victoria the wiser.

He felt a grin stretching across his face. Heaven help him. He loved her.

Chapter Twenty

"
V
icki! Do you want to go with Mrs. Dorling and me?"

Victoria felt every bounce of William's feet as he jumped on her bed. It was early morning and she was barely awake.

It had been three days since she had seen the marquess, and he was still avoiding her, even though she had received a dozen roses and a written apology about his behavior with the ring.

But the misery of that last meeting still plagued her mind. By apologizing, she knew he was dissolving any ties to their relationship in a gentlemanly manner. Yet in the letter, he begged her to trust him.

Her heart ached, but it mattered not, because this morning she was going to take a ride to see her solicitor. Whatever information he had gathered, she would take the news back to Aunt Phoebe and tell her the whole of it, from the flight with Nightham to Wendover's threats. Wendover was dead and a scandal seemed far less dangerous now than the thought of Wendover killing William.

"So, my little pirate, where are you going?" she finally asked her cousin when he stopped jumping.

"A drive in Hyde Park. Old Georgie's going to let us use his fancy phaeton when he comes for breakfast. We can all take turns."

With a roar of triumph, William leapt off her bed, his sword whipping excitedly about his head. "One of his drivers will be at the reins, and I might be able to have a go at the horses. Four white horses, Vicki!"

His voice was so ecstatic that Victoria could not hold back her chuckle of delight. "William, you should not call His Grace, Old Georgie. He will be your stepfather in a few weeks, you know."

William looked away, then put one hand on his hip and let out a weary sigh. "Listen, we are leaving in a few minutes. There will not be anyone at the park this early. We can have it all to ourselves. Do you want to go with us? It will be a tight squeeze, but I am rather small, and you can ride beside us and then Mrs. Dorling can switch places with you."

Victoria felt a grin tug at her lips at the thought of Mrs. Dorling riding her horse. "Not today, William."

"Awwww, Vicki."

Victoria sighed as he jumped on her bed again and continued his bouncing. She quickly moved to her sitting table, pulling a brush through her hair. Her mind ran over the past few days, including the facts about Wendover's death. She felt sinful, but she was glad that he was dead. It was only Lord Drakefield and Nightham who haunted her dreams now.

William jumped off the bed. "Vicki! Look at how your hair flies in the air and crackles like those bugs I step on every summer." He took the brush from her hands and pulled it through her mane of mahogany curls and squealed in delight. "It makes snapping noises like guts squishing on the rocks in the hot sun."

Victoria grinned at her reflection in the looking glass. William had her hair standing on end like some madwoman. She frowned suddenly. Was she mad for loving someone who would never love her back?

"You best get going, William. Save a ride for me another day.

"Oh, very well, me princess. But I will not always have four white horses to take along." He slapped her brush on the table and made a sinister face in the looking glass. "I will look for tiny, tiny creatures. An entire hat full." He ran to the door and laughed. "So beware!"

"William!"

He glanced over his shoulders and quirked a blond brow. "Don't worry. This time they are for Sarah."

She heard him giggle as he closed the door, and she thought she heard the word
guts. She would have to warn Sarah about checking her bed before she turned in for the night.

A half-hour later, the duke and James showed for breakfast. Stanby personally delivered another bouquet of roses for Victoria from the marquess. Of course, the giant was deflated when he heard that Mrs. Dorling was out riding with William.

The duke glanced up from the breakfast table and chuckled at Stanby's frown. "Mrs. Dorling went along to watch over the boy. By now William is gallivanting about Hyde Park with my new phaeton. Hopefully, they will have the place all to themselves. If you wish, Stanby, stay here and wait for them."

Stanby gave a stiff upper lip and nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace. I believe I will."

Phoebe smiled at the giant. "Mrs. Dorling would enjoy seeing you when she returns. Why do you not wait for her in the blue salon?"

"Thank you, my lady." Stanby hovered by the door.

Phoebe noted his tight expression and frowned. "What is it, Stanby?"

"If you will forgive my rudeness, my lady. I feel quite ill at ease about Mrs. Dorling and William going out by themselves."

"Ah," Phoebe sighed. "McGraw is driving. So you see they are not alone."

James let out an amused snort and turned toward his father. "Are you saying it is only McGraw and Mrs. Dorling with that boy? You truly believe they can handle the situation?"

The duke cast his son a stem glare. James adjusted his neckcloth. Sarah giggled and Victoria pretended not to hear.

"My dear," Phoebe grinned at the duke. "William is a handful. I can see James was only concerned about the boy." She inclined her head toward James. "But depend upon it, Mrs. Dorling can handle him."

Stanby cleared his throat, and all heads turned in his direction.

The duke looked on, his brow furrowed. "What is it, Stanby?"

Stanby looked over the table. "I do beg your pardon, but Mrs. Dorling can usually handle the boy, however, I cannot put it out of my mind that Lord Wendover is still in the area. The man seemed quite unstable."

Phoebe's face paled.

"The man is dead," Victoria said with a frown. "The paper said so."

"If you pardon my bluntness, Lady Victoria," Stanby said, "the earl's body was not recognizable. They only assumed it was him because of his ring."

Victoria’s stomach sank.

"What Stanby says is quite true," James said as he cut into his kippers. "The thing is, the body was assumed to be Wendover's, but it could be someone else. However, the investigators were almost positive it was the earl's remains. Since the man has not shown his face at all the last few days, and his death has been in all the papers, I fail to see how it could be otherwise."

"Nevertheless," Stanby said with a grimace. "Something don't seem right."

Victoria felt herself grow warm as Stanby excused himself and moved to the hall toward the blue salon, his face showing every wary emotion he felt.

After a stunned silence, the duke tried to change the subject. Nothing from the weather to Prinny's latest escapade seemed to help the icy feeling that flowed through Victoria's veins.

After breakfast, Phoebe, the duke, James, Sarah, and Victoria gathered in the drawing room.

Sick about the possibility of Wendover being alive, Victoria put on a calm face as she prepared to leave for her solicitor's. She glanced out the window when a stylish phaeton whipped into view. She almost laughed when she saw the harried driver conduct the four magnificent white horses to a halt in front of the townhouse. William must have driven the poor man daft. The amusement died on her lips the second she realized that the crazy driver was not McGraw, but her very own Mrs. Dorling with the driver slouched over the lady's lap.

Panic burned a path straight to her heart. "William!"

All heads snapped in her direction when she shouted the boy's name. She picked up her skirts and hurried toward the door.

"William?" Phoebe sent an alarmed look the duke's way. "Is he hurt? Oh, my baby!"

The duke shot from his chair. James followed him toward the hall.

"McGraw's hurt!" Victoria cried to the two men behind her.

A sobbing Mrs. Dorling helped lower the man to James and the duke. The lady slipped Victoria a sealed letter, her entire body shaking. "Oh, my lady! It was someone with a mask. I was to give this only to you. That ogre took William. McGraw tried to defend us, but—" The housekeeper let out a deep sob. "The blood. Oh, the blood."

"He'll make it," the duke said grimly, looking over McGraw's wounds.

"Alice!" Stanby came bounding out the door and ran toward Mrs. Dorling, his face almost as white as hers. The large man cursed as he gently brought the older woman up the stairs and into the townhouse.

Victoria felt ill as she clutched the letter to her pounding chest. Wendover was alive! The man had taken William. Her throat tightened with dread. Dear, precious William. All that mattered was William. She had to concentrate on William.

The doctor was called to attend to the driver, and by that time Phoebe had taken ill on the sofa in the drawing room. Sarah hovered over her aunt, tapping her face with a cool cloth. The duke sat at his
fiancée's
side.

"Everything will be quite all right Phoebe, dearest. William will be returned." The duke's voice was calm, but Victoria knew he was anything but tranquil. His face was hard. His gaze the same. She recognized the lethal glint harboring in those dark eyes. They were a different color from Drake's, but they gave off the same surge of power and determination.

However, it seemed in all the confusion, no one had seen Mrs. Dorling hand Victoria the letter. Victoria moved to the hearth and broke open the seal, her heart beating madly.

James quickly moved beside her. "It would be best if I read that first, Victoria.  I saw Mrs. Dorling slip it to you. The others may not have seen, but I did."

"The letter is for me, not you."

"That does not mean a thing. Give it to me." He shoved out his hand. "This is William's life that hangs in the balance. Do not keep your secrets from us any longer."

The fire flickered beside her and her mouth went dry.
William. Think of William.

"After I have read it, you may have it." She said the lie as smooth as silk. At this point she did not care. No one else would be hurt because of that horrid man. No one.

"Very well." James waited impatiently, his gaze hardening with every passing second.

Victoria turned her back to him. Her shoulders slumped forward as she read the letter. Wendover wanted her to meet him one block from the townhouse at noon. He had William and would kill the boy if she were but a minute late. No one was to come in her place and she was not to share the contents of the letter with anyone. He would be watching closely.

Dear merciful heaven! What was she to do? She glanced at James. She could not let him read it. Her stomach turned with indecision. He would hate her for what she was about to do, but she had to do it and do it quick.

He took a threatening step toward her. "Victoria, I will have that letter now."

"Goodness, has Sarah fainted, too?" As James abruptly turned his head toward the doors, Victoria took the moment to crumple the letter into a ball and send it flying into the fire.