Page 43 of Her Rogue of a Duke
Warren shook his head gravely. “All evidence points to the contrary, Your Grace. I have conducted several deeper lines of inquiries, including with allies of the Elmcroft Duchy in the Crown, and all have come up short. It appears as though he has dropped off the face of the earth. He may as well not be alive, there is such a lack of information regarding his current location.”
Though this new piece of information did little to shed light onto the mystery that was Francesca Nightingale, Joshua could admit it was all rather peculiar. Whatever was happening with Lord Nightingale, he would guess it had something to do with why Francesca had ended up on his doorstep. She wanted to keep it a secret, whatever it was, which was why she had told him he could not ask her any questions. Whatever she was keeping from him, she had to have a good reason for it.
Turning back to his butler with a somber expression, Joshua instructed, “Warren, ensure this information remains strictly confidential. We will monitor the situation closely, but itis imperative that not a word of this leaves these walls. Understood?”
Warren gave a solemn nod. “Absolutely, Your Grace. I understand.”
“Good,” Joshua acknowledged, his thoughts still preoccupied with the enigma surrounding Francesca and her father. “You have done well, Warren. You may return to your duties.”
Warren gave a deep bow before making his way out of the study.
Joshua waited until the butler had closed the doors behind him before releasing a long, pent-up breath. He sank back deeper into his armchair, part of him still wishing to seek out Francesca, but his good sense thinking better of it.
Regret gnawed at him as he reflected on his previous animosity toward her. He had been unjust, driven by a misplaced bitterness tied to a name from his past. It was a realization that sat heavily on him, casting a shadow over his former judgments. The Francesca he had come to know was nothing like the one who had shattered his heart. His misguided resentment towards her was baseless and undeserved.
HisFrancesca was compassionate, selfless, and generous. She deserved so much more from the world, and from him.
And it was about time he started treating her as such.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Francesca sat in her bedchamber, curled up in the cushioned window seat next to her bed, a book resting in her lap. She was anxiously awaiting a crucial letter from Mr. Campbell, her father’s solicitor, detailing her next steps now that Gerard appeared to be inching closer to unraveling the truth about her father’s untimely demise. Her correspondence with Mr. Campbell had been dispatched early that morning and she was now doing her best to distract her mind while she waited to hear from him.
There was not much she could do in the meantime. Francesca was also keenly conscious that any erratic behavior on her part within the manor might arouse unnecessary suspicion from Joshua or the servants. Thus, she had reasoned it would be best if she simply remained in the confines of her chamber, as she was wont to do and had already been doing for a large part of her stay at Elmcroft.
Francesca’s thoughts were irresistibly drawn back to Joshua. She could not help but wonder where he might be, and if hewas at all concerned about her. Ever since she had broken her promise and not waited for him in the garden house, he had not tried to seek her out.
Was he upset with her? More piercingly, did he now look back on their night together with regret?
These thoughts cast a shadow over her heart. She could feel the weight of regret and fear pressing heavily in her gut as she recalled his words in the library… about how men relish the chase. Now that she had given herself up to him, had he lost interest in her? She gnawed on her lip, nearly drawing blood, but then, summoning a burst of resolve, she set the troubling thoughts aside to the remote corners of her mind. There was simply too much for her to worry about at present. For the time being, she needed to focus on Gerard and the potential catastrophe he could bring upon her life if he uncovered the secret of her father’s death.
A light knock on the door interrupted her musings, causing her to jolt.
“Come in,” Francesca called, quickly shutting her book.
Oh, please be a missive from you, Mr. Campbell.
The door opened, revealing Mrs. Clark bearing a tray with two sealed letters. Francesca's eyebrows knit together in puzzlement; she had only been anticipating the arrival of one letter.
Still, she maintained her façade of nonchalance as Mrs. Clark crossed the room to her and said, “Some correspondence has arrived in your name, my lady. One arrived this morning with the post, while the second was retrieved from your home by a footman at the Duke’s behest, to ensure any mail there was brought to you.”
“Oh,” Francesca murmured. “How very thoughtful of him.”
She accepted the letters from Mrs. Clark with a slight tremble in her fingers, before thanking the older woman, who offered Francesca a reverent curtsy and promptly left the room.
Once alone again, Francesca took a deep inhale before carefully breaking the wax seal of the first letter.
My Dear Lady Francesca,
Upon the receipt of your most recent correspondence this morning, I am fully apprised of the gravity of our present circumstances. In light of this, I find myself compelled to advise a course of action that, whilst drastic, is necessary under our current predicament. It is my earnest suggestion that you remove yourself forthwith from Elmcroft.
In this regard, I extend to you the use of my country estate, a place I am certain remains familiar to you from past visits with your father. It will serve as a discreet haven away from society's eyes.
The matter of Gerard is indeed troubling, and I am attending to it as I pen this missive. The secrecy surrounding the incident concerning your father is of utmost importance, and we must handle this with great care.
In the meantime, I shall see to it that the country house is adequately prepared for your arrival. Please travel there posthaste.
Yours most sincerely,