Page 50 of The Blind Duke's Ward

Marshall gave a heavy sigh and shot her a look from beneath lowered brows. Then his eyes flicked up beyond her, over her shoulder. He frowned. Gemma looked and saw the young man again. He was level with them on the other side of the road but was looking in their direction, staring hard at them. Marshall returned his stare, watching him as he walked, until the man turned into a side street and was lost to sight.

“You know him?” Marshall demanded.

“Never seen before in my life,” Gemma replied.

“I suppose he is gone. But, he seemed very interested in us. Too interested for my liking.”

“You have not answered my question, Marshall,” Gemma insisted, trying to put some steel into her voice.

“We are coming here,” Marshall indicated a three-story house with faded paint on its window sills and more than one window boarded up. Weeds infested a plot of land in front of its ground floor windows and the railings which separated that garden from the pavement were rusty. An emblem in stone had been carved into the lintel above the front door, its details too smoothed by time to distinguish.

It seemed to glower at the rest of the street, as though resenting its dilapidated condition. Marshall was smartly rapping on the door, then waiting for a response from within. Gemma looked around and saw the young man’s head appear around the corner of the side street into which he had vanished. He was watching them. She took a breath to tell Marshall but something stopped her. And then she heard a voice from behind her that drove all thoughts of the young man from her mind.

“It is nice to see you again at last, cousin,” Dunkeswick said.

Gemma whirled to see Eugene standing in the doorway. Marshall had stepped back and now stood just behind her. For a moment, she froze, then tried to run. But Marshall seized her by one arm and Eugene stepped out of the door and grabbed the other. Together, they forced her into the house and the door was slammed shut behind her.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

Nathan could tell by the feel of the air that dusk was drawing in. It was distinctly cooler on his face. Touching the metal frame of the carriage window, he felt that the metal was cold to the touch, whereas it had been warmed by the sun during the day. He did not take the watch from his waistcoat pocket, not needing to feel the position of the hands to tell the time. It was a normal watch but lacked the usual glass over its face, which allowed Nathan to gently touch the hands and tell the time by those means.

He had given instructions to the driver to head back to Mickelgate, having lost track of where they actually were. The driver informed him they had passed beyond the old city walls and left the city in a north-westerly direction, heading out into the villages and country beyond. There had been no sign of the young ruffian since they had left the city. Nathan instructed the driver to keep a sharp eye out for him.

It took perhaps an hour to return to Mickelgate. Nathan judged it by the continuing coolness of the air and an estimate of the carriage’s speed based on the feel of the ride. He did not think his estimate was far removed from the truth but could not settle himself to take any satisfaction in his skill.

Emily is in danger and Gemma too. She is trapped in that house. If Dunkeswick is in town, then his brother cannot be far behind no matter what he says.

He heard the carriage door open and alighted, allowing himself to be guided up the steps before the house and inside, then to the study. There was no hint of Gemma’s presence in any of the rooms he passed through. Her scent was missing, erased by the efforts of the maids to be replaced with soap and polish. He had expected that she might greet him on his return. She did not. By the time he had settled himself in the study, he was deep in thought.

Gemma is not here. It is too early for her to have retired for the evening and I expected that she would have an interest in my meeting with Walter. Unless, I have completely misjudged her. Unless, she is a superb actress and has no interest in Emily or the search for her.

Nathan dismissed the idea. He was not such a terrible judge of character. If Gemma was not present, it was for a very good reason. He reached for the bellpull and then realized that he did not know where it was. With an irritated sigh, he rose from the chair and negotiated his way to the door, using his cane and his memory of the path he had taken upon entering the room. Upon reaching the door he gritted his teeth, bolstered his pride, and then called out loudly.

“Hello. I require assistance!”

There was no answer. A chill ran through Nathan. He had insulated himself from the debilitating nature of his affliction at Hutton. By careful arrangement of rooms and training of staff, he could go about his business as though he was not blind. That illusion was shattered the moment he placed himself in a strange environment with a skeleton staff, supplemented by men and women local to York and not au fait with his particular problems.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

It was a somewhat timid, female voice coming from Nathan’s left and approximately twenty yards away. Charlotte. He turned in that direction. A waft of something akin to boot polish reached him from that direction too. Boot polish and perhaps a scented pomade.

“Yes. Come here please,” he said impatiently.

Footsteps approached and the rustle of a starched uniform, as though the person had curtsied.

“I wish to speak to Miss Gemma Standford. I…I require a guide to reach her rooms.”

He knew that his face was flushing. It was both anger and embarrassment. To acknowledge his disability was something he found shameful. To ask for help in a simple task, one which a sighted man would have accomplished without thought, was deeply unsettling and provoked an irritated reaction in him. The woman did not reply but Nathan heard the shifting of feet.

“Well? Lead me to her rooms,” Nathan snapped, losing his patience.

“She…she is not at home, Your Grace,” the woman stammered.

Nathan frowned. It was a truth that he had dreaded hearing. He did not want to think of Gemma running out on him after everything he had done for her. After the promise she had made.

“Where has she gone?” Nathan asked in a cold voice.

“That will be all, thank you Charlotte,” Marshall said.