Page 13 of Never Beguile a Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #30)

WINIFRED

“Y ou’re lying!” Nora’s sharp rebuke stopped Winifred’s heart.

Yanking her skirt away from her feet, she sprinted up the servants’ staircase, ran down the corridor, and burst into her chamber. Her sudden appearance drew a scream from Miss Venning, who dropped her cards as she spun around.

“Winifred?” Nora rose from a chair near the foot of the bed, revealing Miss Juliette in a second chair beside her, and hurried across the room. “Is anything wrong? You’ve been gone nearly twenty minutes.”

“I heard you yell,” Winifred panted, leaning against the doorway and placing a hand against her chest.

She drew in a slow breath, attempting to slow her racing heart.

“Miss Juliette claimed she knew how to play Brag.” Nora tilted her head toward the young girl.

After collecting her cards, Miss Venning stood as well. “Since she provided invaluable assistance in relieving the pressure around your mother’s eye, we asked her what other talents she possessed.”

“Gambling?” Winifred’s mouth crooked. “That skill seems a bit inappropriate… However, I suppose her father would approve of the activity.”

“He would not,” a low growl crawled over her shoulders, followed by the unique blend of cinnamon and carnation, announcing the Duke of Beaufort’s formidable presence.

Shuddering, Winifred turned, a chill sliding down her spine, and curtsied, forcing a smile. “Your Grace, Miss Juliette has been located.”

“I see.” The Duke of Beaufort’s narrowed eyes swept over the room. “Juliette, go to your bedchamber. Immediately.”

“Yes, Father.” Miss Juliette set down her cards, rose, and—head down—shuffled to the doorway.

As she passed the Duke of Beaufort, he folded his arms and glowered at her. “We will discuss your behavior this evening in a few minutes.”

“Your Grace,” Nora said, moving beside Winifred, “please don’t react too harshly?—”

The Duke of Beaufort raised his eyebrows at Nora’s request as though pointing out the absurdity of commanding a duke to do anything, and the remainder of her sentence died on her tongue.

His gaze flicked to the bed, sliding over Mrs. Webb’s bandaged face, then he offered Miss Venning a curt nod, spun on his heel, and strode from the room.

Nora’s face paled, her attention shifting between Miss Venning and Winifred. “Do you think we’ve angered him?”

“I don’t believe either of you was the cause,” Winifred said, glancing at the empty doorway.

“Were you?” The corner of Nora’s mouth pulled into a grimace.

“Possibly,” Winifred replied, widening her eyes in an attempt to stave off Nora’s current line of questioning. “However, he may have interacted with others prior to his appearance. One of those conversations could have spoiled his mood.”

Miss Venning gathered the cards into a stack. “I cannot recall one instance where His Grace’s temperament was under discussion.”

“Perhaps,”—Winifred closed the chamber door—“the addition of a daughter altered his untroubled attitude.”

Or he was irritated that the woman he’d just kissed called him a coward with her next breath.

Yawning, Miss Venning stretched her arms, then placed the card deck on her chair. “As nothing more can be done to assist your mother this evening, I’m going to retire to my chamber. I don’t anticipate any complications. However, promise you’ll wake me if her situation worsens.”

After both ladies agreed, Miss Venning took her leave, opening and closing the door with a soft click.

Nora waited for a count of ten. “What exactly did you say to the Duke of Beaufort?”

Winifred winced. “Merely that Mr. Hollingsworth was in prison for a crime he didn’t commit and that, unlike the Duke of Beaufort, he wasn’t allowing that difficulty to prevent him from pursuing the life he desired.”

Eyes narrowing, Nora closed the distance between them. “Why were you speaking about Mr. Hollingsworth?”

“The Duke of Beaufort,”— kissed me, then —“encouraged me to accept Mr. Hollingsworth’s proposal.”

“I don’t understand why you would discuss another man’s offer of marriage with the Duke of Beaufort.” Nora frowned. “I thought you intended to help him locate his daughter.”

“I did!” Winifred flung her hands up. “He brought up the subject of suitable matches.”

Nora tapped a finger to her lips, a strange light glowing in her eyes, then she shrugged and gestured toward the empty bed. “I’m certain a night of rest will add the distance needed for him to forgive the unintended slight.”

Winifred didn’t agree.

* * *

“I’m blind!” Her mother screamed, ripping Winifred from deep slumber.

Rolling over, Winifred fell out of the bed, hit the floor with a grunt, and popped up, her head colliding with Nora’s.

“Stop yelling,” Nora groaned, rubbing her forehead as she crawled off the mattress. “Miss Venning wrapped your face after she relieved the pressure on your eye from the swelling.”

“Will I lose my sight?” Winifred’s mother asked, her frantic fingers tracing the edge of the bandage across her nose.

“Miss Venning didn’t believe so,” Winifred said, taking her mother’s hand and moving the appendage away from her face. “However, you shouldn’t touch the wrap until she inspects the injury.”

“Did not my condition merit a physician’s opinion?” Her mother sniffed.

“There was a snowstorm,” Nora replied through gritted teeth, “and, after learning of Miss Venning’s capabilities, the Duke of Beaufort chose not to risk someone else’s life by sending them out in the darkness.”

Mrs. Webb struggled into a sitting position and twisted her bandaged face toward her stepdaughter. “You think me foolish?”

“Incredibly.”

Winifred gasped. Had Mrs. Webb possessed her sight, she would have slapped Nora for her impudence—despite Nora’s engagement to the Duke of Roxburghe.

However, their mother’s current position prevented her from exacting punishment, and therefore, she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled in Nora’s direction.

Soft tapping sounded on the door. A moment later, Miss Venning peeked into the room, her pale face regaining color when she spied Winifred’s mother.

“How are you faring?” Miss Venning asked as she entered the chamber.

“Who is that?” Winifred’s mother asked, her head whipping to the right.

“Miss Venning.” She edged toward the bed. “I’m not certain if a doctor can be summoned today. However, I’d like to remove the bandages around your eye to ensure there’s no additional condition that may need immediate attention.”

“Such as?” Mrs. Webb’s voice cracked as she struggled into a sitting position.

“A virus.” Miss Venning leaned over and untucked the edge of the bandage. “Once I remove the wrap, it will take a few moments for your sight to return.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Digging her teeth into her lower lip, Miss Venning glanced at Winifred, then Nora. “There’s no need to discuss potential issues unless they occur.”

Miss Venning unwound the bandage, revealing Mrs. Webb’s discolored face, and leaned forward, her eyes probing the injuries. “What do you see?”

“Violet,” Winifred’s mother replied, a slight crinkle sliding across her forehead. “Have your eyes always been that unusual shade?”

“They have.” Miss Venning smiled and twisted around. “It would appear that your mother hasn’t lost her sight.”

“Girls.” Gesturing, Mrs. Webb encouraged Nora and Winifred onto the bed, wrapped an arm around each of their waists, then shifted her attention back to Miss Venning. “I’m so grateful for your assistance. Had you not been here… I can’t imagine the horror I would have suffered through.”

Miss Venning flushed deep red. “Thank you for those kind sentiments. Is there anything I can bring you?”

“Some tea and toast?” Winifred’s mother offered a toothy smile. “Enough for the four of us.”

“I would be delighted.” Her voice trailing off, Miss Venning glanced at the closed chamber door. “I’ll just need to inform my father that I won’t be joining him for breakfast.”

The moment Miss Venning exited the chamber, Winifred’s mother tightened her hold on Winifred, pinning her in place.

“Did you make a decision regarding Mr. Hollingsworth?” her mother asked, ignoring Nora’s shocked gasp.

Winifred’s eyes shifted between her mother and Nora, hoping that Nora would intervene. However, Nora said nothing, and Winifred suspected her sister wished to learn the truth as well.

“I-I haven’t decided,” Winifred said, glowering at Nora.

Her mother sighed, slumping back against the headboard. “I suppose the fact that you haven’t completely discounted him is the best answer I can hope to receive, considering you’ve just learned of his continued interest.”

Nora grunted. “I fail to understand why you want Winifred to accept the proposal of an imprisoned man with no income.”

“He has an income,” Winifred said, cutting off her mother. “He possesses a small plot of land outside of Wiltshire. Mother thought I should aim for a better match.”

Frowning, Nora shifted her attention back to her stepmother. “If Mr. Hollingsworth has money, why would Mr. Curtis demand payment from you?”

“Mr. Hollingsworth can’t access his funds in prison.” Mrs. Webb’s sharp rebuke caused Nora to draw away. “However, I have a scheme that will aid both myself and Winifred.”

“Which is?” Hesitancy bled through Nora’s question.

“With your assistance, Mr. Hollingsworth will be released, then he can pay his debt to Mr. Curtis and marry Winifred.”

“My assistance?” Nora’s eyebrows floated near her hairline. “You possess the ability to set Mr. Hollingsworth free!”

“After retracting the accusation against Winifred, my word doesn’t hold much weight.

” Her mother glanced down and fiddled with the edge of the coverlet.

“Mr. Hollingsworth admitted to the theft to ensure none of the scandal remained attached to your sister’s name; we can’t allow him to die in prison. ”

Winifred snorted. “You seemed fine with that outcome before your life was threatened by Mr. Curtis.”

“Our lives.” Her mother twisted her head around. “He believes you responsible as well.”

A sharp rap echoed through the chamber.