Page 24 of Love, the Duke (Say I Do #3)
C HAPTER 24
MAN’S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO APPREHENDING A THIEF
SIR BENTLY ASHTON ULLINGSWICK
Make the suspect think you know the truth.
Leaving the chalice and its silk covering in Hurst’s capable hands, Ophelia pushed past him with a speed she didn’t know she was capable of, bounded from the carriage the moment it stopped, and sprinted up the steps of their home, thinking only of one thing: getting the registry book she had “borrowed” from the church. Once she had it, she could mentally prepare herself to make the long, but fast as possible, ride to the church in Wickenhamden.
The thought was exhilarating. As she hurried into the drawing room calling to her mother, Ophelia’s quick stride slowed, then stopped. Three stodgy men dressed somberly in black, except for the bright-white bands falling down like short, wide ribbons from the high necklines, stood in the room. Their demeanor left no leeway for anything other than sober displeasure. If not accusatory censure. Especially the big man with a trimmed beard who towered over her mother. There was no doubt he was the new vicar because she recognized the elders who stood on either side of him. All were giving Maman’s good character an unnecessary dressing-down with their expressions, if not words that were said before Ophelia entered.
Fearful, Maman removed her handkerchief from under her cuff and dabbed her forehead. “Thank goodness you have returned, my dear. I wasn’t doing a very good job answering the vicar’s questions.”
Understanding dawned within Ophelia, and her hopes for quick rectification of all that was amiss at the church plummeted. She was too late to put things back without anyone being wiser. The new vicar had arrived, inventoried the livings, and was looking for answers. Which, to be fair, was owed. But not with the malign treatment of her mother, who had done nothing wrong. That raised Ophelia’s anger.
She walked over and held out her hand to aid her mother to her feet. “Maman, you look tired; please take your leave and I’ll attend to this matter in short order, and there is nothing for you to concern yourself.”
Maman rose to stand beside Ophelia. She linked her arm through her daughter’s as if to give and receive support. “Anything more you have to say about my son must be with words of honor only. As I told you, he did not take anything from the church.” Her posture inched taller, and she presented herself as a matron to be dealt with.
Ophelia couldn’t have been more pleased with Roberta’s demeanor and was about to speak up when Hurst blew in from the front door as if a storm brewed about him. His gaze quickly assessed the situation of his wife and her mother across from three stern-faced men.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Hurst took control of the room with his commanding presence. “No doubt you know I am Hurstbourne as you are in my home and standing in front of my wife, the duchess, and her mother. Step back, all of you.”
Bows and properly murmured apologies and greetings followed as they traded glances with one another and then moved several feet away. Clearly, they were not used to being reprimanded, but that they had been made Ophelia feel very good.
Glaring at the men who he obviously suspected had come with ill will toward Ophelia and her mother, Hurst’s eyes narrowed firmly on the man in the middle of the trio. “A married man can be a stubborn one, but a married duke with a wife who loves him in spite of his headstrong opinions is a rare one. I will declare as much in front of you as men of the cloth. I will swear no harm has been done to the church by this family.”
The drop in his tone to one of sincerity and warmth brought a shiver to Ophelia. Her heart swelled with love for him as she stared in silent wonder at his admission. Looking into his eyes, she easily forgave all the earlier discord between them and gave him a loving smile. His deep voice continued to comfort her as he spoke in their defense.
“You were right, Duchess,” Hurst said. “You believed the vicar would immediately blame anything he perceived might be wrong, out of place, or perhaps missing from the church on the former vicar and his good family.”
While the men whispered among themselves, Hurst gently coaxed Ophelia with his eyes and a nod of understanding between them. She and her mother walked over to stand on either side of him. Ophelia slipped her hands behind her back and Hurst discreetly handed off the chalice to her and the silk sack that had protected it.
Ophelia felt such relief to hold it in her hands one last time. She remembered Hurst saying that Winston had blessed their marriage before it had happened. Now she was never surer that was true, and a warmth of peace settled over her as she looked at him with all the love she was feeling.
The objects were revealed to the vicar and elders while Hurst explained, “My wife and her mother realized this relic was missing and went to great lengths to find it so that it could be returned to the church.” The cup gleamed in the glowing lamplight. “Here it is. Safe and in perfect condition.
“Where was it?” one of the elders asked.
The vicar’s bushy brows rose with interest. “Who took it and who had it?” the vicar questioned.
“A man who is now with the authorities. We called in the magistrate, and he is currently talking to him. I’ll have my footman take you to where they are. I’m sure you will want to have your say as to what you think needs to be done to the man and see that proper punishment is carried out.”
“That was most gracious of you—” He looked at Ophelia. “And the duchess. The parish is pleased to accept your kindness in seeing the sacrament has been returned. We accept your offer for the footman to take us to wherever the authorities are.”
Ophelia nodded her appreciation for his comments and was thinking it was all finally over when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the registry book on the table near where her mother had occupied the settee. There was one more thing to do.
Crossing the room, she collected it and presented it and the pearl-decorated bag with spun silver and gold strings to one of the elders. She then gave the chalice to the robust bearded man who had the good grace to etch a semblance of an apology on his features as he accepted Chatham’s chalice. Each man took his turn to hold the vessel, no doubt wanting to make sure they held the real one.
After clearing his throat, he conceded, “I do believe we may have been too hasty with our assumptions when we arrived at the church and found the sacrament wasn’t among the livings.”
Hurst’s brow rose skeptically. “ May have? Sir, you owe the two ladies in my life an apology.”
“Indeed, we do.” The vicar bowed and the other two men followed him in acknowledgment and respect. “Our sincerest apologies are offered to you, Duchess, and to Mrs. Stowe.”
While once again murmurs came from the two other men as well, their faces momentarily downcast, and just long enough for Maman to smile contentedly at Ophelia and for Ophelia to smile lovingly at Hurst.