Page 22 of Never Beguile a Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #30)
“You’re perfect.” Winifred noticed that Misses Wilmington and Braddock adopted similar positions.
When the Duke of Lennox yelled to start, Winifred dug her hands into the snow, pushed them off the top of the hill, and leaned forward, covering Miss Juliette with her body.
The reduction of the wind resistance gave them an extra burst of speed, ripping a squeal from Miss Juliette, whose hand grabbed hold of Winifred’s.
Despite the internal instruction not to, Winifred lifted her head and glanced to the left to check the location of the other sleds.
Miss Wilmington’s idea regarding the benefit of the Duke of Mansfield’s added weight proved correct as they’d passed Miss Braddock’s sled and were rapidly bearing down on Winifred and Miss Juliette.
Had the finish line been further out, they would have lost the race. However, the nose of their sled sailed past the fence post seconds before Miss Braddock and the Duke of Mansfield, who declared Miss Juliette the sole winner as she was the only one to cross the finish line first.
Cold and hungry, they returned to the house. After depositing the sleds in the stable, the group split, with Miss Juliette and Winifred heading upstairs for an update on Mrs. Webb, and the remaining four retreating to the dining room in search of sustenance.
“Has my father returned?” Miss Juliette asked, stopping Mrs. Aylett on the staircase.
“He has not.” Mrs. Aylett’s gaze shifted to the front door as though she expected him to enter at the very moment. “However, I’ve been given instructions to proceed with tonight’s meal even if he doesn’t appear this evening.”
“Why wouldn’t he reappear?” Frowning, Winifred climbed the steps. “Have you heard news of a difficulty?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Mrs. Aylett’s mouth. “I’ve not received any communication from His Grace. However, when Doctor Barnes arrived, he warned of an approaching storm. If they don’t return soon, they’ll need to wait it out in town.”
“The doctor arrived?” Winifred’s head whipped toward the top of the staircase. “What was his diagnosis?”
“He’s currently seeing to your mother,” Mrs. Aylett replied, flattening herself against the wall as Winifred raced up the remaining steps.
She burst into the bedchamber, shoving the door open with enough force that the metal handle slipped from her fingers. The door swung wide, completing a half-arc and crashing into the adjoining wall.
“Winifred!” her mother chastised, flicking her eyes—the only mobile portion of her head—toward the entrance, then returning them to the man examining her scalp. “Please forgive my daughter’s excitable nature, Doctor Barnes.”
“The loss of a parent is quite unsettling,” he replied, straightening and removing his gloves. “However, in your case, neither of your daughters will experience that sorrow yet.”
His dark eyes slid to Miss Venning. “The credit for this patient’s recovery should fall to you. Without your assistance, I doubt Mrs. Webb would have survived the night.”
“Thank you,” Miss Venning said, a blush crawling across her cheeks. “My skills are merely an extension of my teacher’s abilities.”
Doctor Barnes tucked the gloves into his bag and, fastening the top, shifted his attention to Winifred. “Has His Grace returned from town? I wish to request a chamber near Mrs. Webb’s so I may continue to observe her recovery.”
“Father hasn’t returned.” Miss Juliette popped out from behind Winifred, her fingers wound together into a tight knot. “Since I am acting in his stead, I will have Mrs. Aylett make the arrangements. Would you wait here a moment?”
She disappeared without waiting for a response and returned less than five minutes later with a red-faced Mrs. Aylett, who paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she drew in a labored breath.
“Doctor. Barnes,” she huffed, mopping her face with the edge of her apron. “We have quite a full house this week. However, we do have one spare chamber available. If you would follow me, you can rest before dinner.”
Winifred placed a hand on Miss Juliette’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “We cannot attend a meal in these wet clothes. Do you need assistance dressing for tonight?”
“I only have this frock.” Lip trembling, Miss Juliette lowered her gaze and tugged at the saturated material. “Father promised to send a modiste. Perhaps he forgot?”
“He will remember,” Winifred replied, glancing around the room for support.
Nora rose and, offering the kindest smile, glided over. “Is your father not in town at this very moment?”
Nodding, Miss Juliette dug her toe into the carpet. “What am I to do about dinner?”
“We have time.” Winifred hooked her finger under Miss Juliette’s chin and lifted the little girl’s head. “We can dry your dress by the fireplace. I’ll weave ribbons into your hair while we wait.”
Eyes sparkling, Miss Juliette clapped her hands together. “Can we use the ribbons I received from Misses Braddock and Wilmington?”
“Certainly,” Winifred replied, leading Miss Juliette into the hallway. “What colors did you select?”
“Blue and green.” Sighing, Miss Juliette opened the door to her chamber. “Mother loved those colors. She said they reminded her of the ocean.”
Winifred seized her opportunity. “Were there any colors she disliked?”
“Black.”
The word sent a shiver rolling down Winifred’s spine.
“It’s not my favorite color either,” she replied, directing Miss Juliette to stand near the fireplace. “I don’t even like people by that name.”
A tiny squeak fell from Miss Juliette’s lips. She spun around, pulling the dress’ fastenings from Winifred’s grip, and took a large step backward, the heel of her shoe knocking against a gilded fireplace screen.
“Do you know any?” she whispered.
“I do not,” Winifred replied, her tone firm.
As she pulled the shabby dress over Miss Juliette’s head, the young girl said, “I met a man by that name… He murdered my mother.”
Winifred froze, the saturated garment dangling from her hand. “Have you told your father?”
Miss Juliette shook her head so hard that her face blurred. “The Hills didn’t believe me when I told them Mr. Black attacked Mother; they punished me for telling falsehoods. I fear Father will react in kind.”
“I’ve only spent a little time in your father’s company,” Winifred replied, turning away as tears formed in her eyes. “However, I know he would never dismiss a complaint as serious as what you’ve just admitted.”
A silver-handled hairbrush floated into Winifred’s vision. “I dream about him.”
“Your father?” Winifred accepted the brush and dragged the bristles through Miss Juliette’s damp, long hair.
“Mr. Black,” she replied with a shudder. “Although I didn’t last night.”
“What do you dream?” Winifred set down the brush as she struggled to keep her worry from bleeding into the question.
“That he returns to choke the life from me for not keeping his secret.” Miss Juliette stood stock-still, her gaze locked on the bed. “As I lay dying, my mother and sister appear to bring me to heaven with them.”
“Your sister?” Winifred separated Miss Juliette’s hair into sections. “I didn’t know you had siblings.”
“I don’t. When Mr. Black discovered a child was the result of one of his attacks on my mother, he broke into the residence, and—” Miss Juliette’s voice cracked.
This poor child!
“Did you hide?” asked Winifred, plaiting Miss Juliette’s hair into two braids.
Miss Juliette nodded as Winifred fastened a blue hair ribbon on the end of the left braid.
“As soon as Mr. Black departed from the residence, I woke the household. Mr. Hill examined Mother and claimed she’d taken her own life.
Two days ago, when he discovered the missive that my mother wrote regarding the truth of the identity of my father, Mr. Hill demanded I be sent away immediately. ”
“I’m confused about a detail in your story,” Winifred said, tying on the green ribbon. “If Mr. Black had previously been a guest of the Hills, why wouldn’t they question him?”
Miss Juliette spun around, her teeth digging deep into her lower lip. “Black isn’t the man’s true name. I didn’t know what to call him. I’d never met anyone with black eyes before…”
Heart hammering, Winifred attempted to keep her tone light. “Have you seen him since your arrival?”
“No.” Miss Juliette clasped her hands in front of her waist. “However, there are many people in attendance, and I haven’t been introduced to them all yet.”
Dear Lord! If Mr. Black wasn’t the man’s actual name, he could still be inside the Duke of Beaufort’s residence.