Page 19 of The Duke’s Bride (The Duke’s Alliance #6)

Beau was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the food that had been served to them. He was aware that Viola wanted items from the dishes that were too far for her to reach. He would be quite happy to serve her but was waiting for her to ask for his assistance.

When she put her napkin on the table and the cutlery on top of it he understood she was prepared to forego a satisfying dinner if it meant she had to either stand up and fetch it herself or ask him to do so.

‘My lady, I am going to try the other plates. Allow me to do the same for you.’ There was no necessity for him to take her dirty plate; there was a pile of clean crockery left on the sideboard. ‘Mrs Alston, allow me to serve you from this end of the table.’

When the waiter came back with the coffee he was accompanied by one of the maids with a delectable selection of candied fruit, junkets, jellies and a freshly baked apple pie.

By the time they had all eaten their fill, the atmosphere was more relaxed.

He rather thought his companions’ consumption of the excellent claret had also helped.

‘Thank you for inviting me to dine with you, my lady. I do not have a private sitting room, so could I persuade you to join me downstairs tomorrow night so I can return the favour?’

‘I should like to do that, Viola. I am sadly starved of company and it will be most enjoyable to sit with others and be able to see what the ladies are wearing.’

Beau was aware that if her mother had not spoken first his offer would have been refused. Now she had no option but to agree.

‘We might look sadly out of place, Mama, as we do not have evening clothes with us.’

‘This is an informal hotel, my lady, and it is an evening dress that would be out of place.’

He bowed politely, bid them goodnight, and returned to his own chamber well satisfied with how the evening had gone.

He was not ready to sleep as the hour was not yet ten o’clock.

There was an unread copy of The Times on the side table and he settled down to read it.

He had not perused more than half when there was a frantic knocking on the door.

He was on his feet in a second and opened it to see the owner of this establishment. ‘Sir, it’s that dog of yours – he’s creating such a racket guests are making complaints.’

‘I shall come at once. I did not anticipate him being a nuisance as he is familiar with the horses he was put with.’ He snatched up his greatcoat and followed close behind. He could hear the dog barking as soon as he stepped into the yard at the back.

There was no need to enquire as to the whereabouts of Brutus, he just followed the noise.

As he approached he realised the dog wasn’t howling but snarling. He increased his pace and found the animal had cornered a rough-looking individual in the corner of the stall.

‘Enough, quiet, sir.’ There was instant silence and the gathered grooms and ostlers heaved a collective sigh of relief. The man was a gibbering wreck and made no attempt to move. Beau turned to the spectators. ‘Who is that person? Why is he in that stall with the horses of Lady Fenchurch?’

Brutus continued to growl and his hackles were up, but he was no longer making the din that had attracted the attention of the hotel proprietor.

Beau looked from one to the other and they shook their heads.

‘Don’t rightly know, sir,’ one of the grooms said.

‘We didn’t know that varmint was there until your dog set up that racket. ’

‘Go about your business. I shall take care of this.’ The crowd dispersed with some reluctance but they knew better than to argue.

He snapped his fingers and the dog moved a few paces back from the cowering figure. Beau had no intention of getting close as he could see crawlers in the man’s hair – his smell was rank too.

‘As you can see my dog is now under control. If I snap my fingers and point at you he will take your throat out. Therefore, it behoves you to tell me the truth.’

The man collected his wits and nodded, still unable to utter a word. His breeches were wet – the wretch’s bladder had emptied. Small wonder he smelled so appalling.

‘What are you doing with Lady Fenchurch’s horses? Who sent you?’

‘I ain’t up to nothing, mister. I was just looking for somewhere to get a bit of shut-eye. Then that dog went for me.’

Beau didn’t believe a word of it. The man had a shifty look about him, and despite his fear his eyes were cunning. ‘I shall give you one more chance to speak the truth and then what happens is entirely your own fault.’

For a second the wretch remained silent then he nodded. ‘I weren’t paid enough to have me throat torn out. Some cove spoke to me down the docks and said if I loosened the shoes of one of them horses he would pay me a guinea.’

‘Describe him to me.’

‘He were about your height, your honour, but half your width. A gentleman like what you are but dressed more like a servant.’

‘Go, collect your guinea and tell him you succeeded.’ He rested his hand lightly on the dog’s head and the man scrambled to his feet and vanished, leaving a noxious aroma behind.

‘Good dog, clever boy, I think you deliberately made a fuss to bring me here.’ The dog thumped his tail in the straw and then went to sniff the damp patch the villain had left behind.

Beau carefully checked the shoes on each horse and they were all securely nailed.

He could think of only one reason for this mystery man, and he was certainly the same person that Viola and the children saw in Romford, to want the horses interfered with.

If one cast a shoe in a deserted spot, the carriage and its occupants would be vulnerable to attack, although he was at a loss to think what benefit this could bring to the putative heir to the earldom.

His stomach sunk to his boots. There was one reason, but it was so dreadful he could scarcely credit it might be the answer.

A helpful stable boy agreed to find the dog something to eat and make sure he had fresh water to drink. Satisfied Brutus would remain on guard, Beau returned to his bedchamber unsure if he should voice his fears to Viola or keep them to himself.

If Thomas were to die, then anyone in the direct male line, however tenuous the connection, would inherit the title, and possibly the estates if they were entailed, and Viola, her daughter and her mother would be homeless.

They would not be penniless as Mr Alston had been rich as Croesus and they could live very well from the interest on his funds without touching the principal.

Bishop had gleaned this interesting information and relayed it to him.

He was being as fanciful as a girl – there had to be another more logical explanation. One thing he was quite sure of: it would be over his dead body that anyone would harm any of this family who had become inordinately dear to him over the past few weeks.

His sleep was fitful and he woke unrefreshed to discover Bishop setting up the shaving things.

His clothes were already laid out waiting.

Green, the valet he had left behind, was no comparison to this young man’s efficiency.

He would definitely take him back with him and Green could retire to a cottage with a decent pension and would no doubt be happy to do so.

Whilst he was being shaved, Bishop concentrated on his work and there was no opportunity for conversation. As soon as it was done Beau spoke.

‘Did you hear what transpired last night in the stables?’

‘I did, sir, damn good thing that dog was down there. They think he was a vagrant looking for shelter.’

‘I know he was not.’ He explained what he had learned without adding his own dreadful interpretation of the events.

‘Can’t be a coincidence, not two things so close together and both connected to that gentleman Lady Fenchurch and the children saw on the way here.’

‘An explanation has occurred to me but I am reluctant to voice it. What interpretation do you put on those events?’

He had never asked Green a question like this in the many years they had been together. But he had come to value his new man’s opinion.

‘I don’t like to say so, sir, but if Lord Thomas met with an accident…’

‘Exactly so. I need to know if there is indeed an heir to the title.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, quite ruining the careful arrangement of his valet.

‘This whole business is like something out of a novel. It is not the sort of thing one expects to be involved with.’ He tossed aside the towel and paced the room, trying to marshal his thoughts.

‘I think we had better travel back with them. Can you obtain us pistols, powder and shot?’ He tossed his man a handful of golden coins. ‘There will be sufficient there. Take the dog with you and keep your eyes and ears open.’

* * *

‘Mama, can we go now? We have eaten all our breakfast and it is already nine o’clock. Mr Sheldon will think us tardy.’

‘No, Elizabeth, you will remain here with me until he comes to collect you. You may ask Sally to put on your outdoor garments as I expect he will be here at any moment.’

Thomas led the charge into the bedchamber. He was beside himself with excitement at the thought of being able to buy his own piano. Viola rather thought that her daughter was not as eager to learn to play the harp as she pretended. Purchasing this instrument was more for herself than for Elizabeth.

Her own mother had yet to appear and this was unusual as her mother was an early riser. She knocked on the communicating door and on receiving no answer a prickle of unease ran through her. ‘Mama, it is I. I am coming in.’

She pushed open the door and stopped abruptly. The room was empty, the bed neatly made, no sign of either her mother or her maid. Her heart was thumping painfully and her hands were clammy until she saw the note placed prominently on the mantelshelf.