Page 78 of An Inkpot and a Dowry for the Marchioness

“No!” Claire protested. “You did not. It was all my fault. I should have listened to Lady Suzanna. I was stupid and—”

Tears spilled out from her dark brown eyes. Oliver watched as his sister reached out to clasp her hand.

“Dear Claire,” she murmured. “It was not and will never be your fault. Do not ever blame yourself for the wicked actions of others.”

Oliver turned to his sister. “What happened?”

Lady Suzanna looked at him sadly. “Claire met with the Marquess in the park, as they had agreed, and she told him that she would not be able to proceed with their courtship. Hanson…” she choked. “Hanson was standing close by, ready to take action should the Marquess do anything inappropriate.”

She took a deep breath. “He seemed to take it rather well, although Claire felt anxious after, so I suggested we go to Regent Street for a moment to distract ourselves. And then, we were attacked.”

Oliver reached out for her and she clutched at his hands. “Oh, it was horrible. We heard fighting and they were throwingrocksat the carriage. Then, they locked us in and broke the wheel. Claire and I tried to get out but it was no use. We could not get the door to open.”

He shook his head as he listened to his sister. “I do not understand. What happened to our coachman and the two footmen I had sent to guard you both?”

“Dead,” Suzanna told him somberly. “They were killed just outside our carriage.”

Oliver clenched his fists in anger. Three lives wasted senselessly.

Almost five, he realized when he thought that he had very nearly lost his sister and Claire in the attack as well.

“And then, they set the carriage on fire,” Claire finished quietly, her voice flat. “We tried to break through the door but we could not. Fortunately, Corman and the others heard us and put out the fire, saving us from certain death.”

“Corman?”

“Yes, the man who brought us here,” she replied softly. “He and the others put out the fire but they had to chop through the carriage to get us out of there.”

Oliver turned to Marley and the butler confirmed that Corman was still standing outside where Oliver had left him.

“Make sure he is awarded handsomely for his efforts,” he told the butler.

Marley nodded and went out to fulfill his orders.

He looked at both of the ladies and his heart twisted that they had to endure what they had gone through. Both of them were gently bred, shielded from the horrors of the world.

A few moments later, Dr. Wallace was led into the room. He was a no-nonsense man in his late fifties.

Oliver turned to the doctor stiffly. “Please take care of the ladies, Dr. Wallace. I have to go out for a moment.”

“Where are you going, Your Grace?” Claire asked him, her voice tinged with concern.

He smiled at her. “I just need to take care of something.”

“You can rest assured that I will do my best to care for the young ladies, Your Grace,” Dr. Wallace promised him.

“Good,” Oliver said with a curt nod. He looked at Smithson briefly before heading out of the drawing room, his steward trailing behind him.

“Have the groom prepare the carriage,” he told the steward. “Make sure he uses the fastest horses in our stables.”

“Where are we headed, Your Grace?” Smithson asked him.

Oliver looked at him with a steely glint in his eyes. “We are going to pay the Marquess of Draydon a visit.”

His fists clenched at his side, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he fought the rising anger within him.

He had a score to settle with his old schoolmate.

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