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Authors: Donna MacMeans

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BOOK: The Seduction of a Duke
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She gazed at him enthusiastically. He just stared back.
“I don’t have a family. You’re running away to keep the Duke from knowing the truth, remember? You’re taking from him all the love and joy he will ever find in life, to save him from possibly knowing his sire. You’re taking his opportunity to choose for himself the road of his life.”
She hadn’t thought in those terms, that she was robbing William of a choice concerning his own future. William was always annoyed if someone turned to another for advice instead of him. What would he think to learn of the choices she made about his future without his consent or advice?
If Thackett was correct, by returning to America, she would spare William the pain of knowing that his bloodlines were not those from a line of dukes, but she would also doom him and herself to a lifetime of misery and loneliness. Thackett would be denied the chance to meet his legacy, but he accepted that as part of the bargain struck long ago.
If she returned to the abbey, she’d have to face the effect of her disappearance on William. Would he ever trust her again? She’d be the one who would have to explain the truth of his past and witness the private pain that revelation would cause. And if she were to do all that, given the lofty standards he’d set for himself as a duke, should she tell him that his true father was a tenant farmer—one who’d been given table scraps from William’s dinners, one who had been ignored by William for decades? Should she tell him that, or let Thackett’s role remain a mystery?
“You believe I should go back, then.” Both afraid and anxious to return, she wasn’t sure how she could face William after what had occurred.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Your Grace. You need to do what your heart directs you to do.”
Twenty-Three
THE SEARCH PARTIES RETURNED WITH NOTHING TO report. Nicholas rode hard to Deerfeld to interview the train station manager. He reported back that no one had seen Franny and Randolph boarding a train.
That was good news of a sort, but it didn’t provide a definitive answer as to her whereabouts. Most of the guests had long since gone to their beds. Nicholas offered to wait with him, but William sent him off to find Emma. One of them should endeavor to get enough sleep to be clearheaded tomorrow when the search continued. William knew he would not sleep until he found her. So help him God, even it meant he had to cross that bloody ocean again, he would do it and bring her home—here with him, where she belonged.
He’d not been a great believer in religion. The abbey chapel had been maintained primarily for the use of his aunt, the servants, and tenants. Tonight, though, it was the Duke who sank to his knees on the cold, hard floor with his head bent in prayer. “Please, God, bring her back. Keep her safe. Bring her home.” It was not the most eloquent of prayers, but those were the only words streaming through his brain. “Bring her back. Keep her safe. Bring her home.”
He wasn’t above bargaining with God. He offered a number of promises if he could just see her again. He suspected God realized William would have bargained with the devil as well if it would bring his wife home safely. Franny, though, was more likely one of God’s earthbound angels and so he sent his prayers skyward.
He returned to his study so as to be near the front door if there was news. Spotted Dick waited with him. The dog had followed William all night as he roamed the empty hallways, giving into the restlessness that came with knowing something was wrong and being unable to fix it. For the most part, Dick had been a silent companion, but now he’d issued a low growl.
“Dick. Be still!” William warned, debating whether to indulge in another glass of brandy. It wasn’t dulling the pain the way he’d hoped. He doubted anything could.
“Still no word?” Lily lounged in the study’s doorway, wearing a nightgown that had no business being in an abbey.
“No. No word.”
“I hate to see you suffer this way, Bedford.” She entered the room uninvited. “Wouldn’t it make sense to accept that she’s run off and just forget about her? You know she’d been riding alone with that Randolph fellow for some time. Keep her money and divorce her, that should punish her for what she’s done.”
“This is not about money, Lily,” he snarled.
She laughed. “Bedford, dear, it’s always about money.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t you have a sick husband to attend to?”
She shrugged. “He’s sleeping. I’d much rather attend to you,” she said in low, suggestive voice.
He sighed. “Go to your bed, Lily. I’m not interested in what you’re peddling. I’m not sure I was all that interested before. You were . . . convenient. Nothing more.”
“You’ll pay for that, Bedford,” she said, straightening. “You’ll regret tossing me aside like dirty linen.”
Her threat sounded strangely familiar. Like those words uttered by Randolph about good things coming to an end. He was about to explore the possibility of a connection between those two, when Dick perked his ears and started to wag his tail.
The dog heard something. It was probably deer wandering too close to the abbey, but what if it was something else . . . like horse hooves? William left his study with Spotted Dick in tow and strode to the front door. Even Carruthers, who had the uncanny ability to know when a carriage had arrived, had not appeared as yet. William opened the massive oak door, then peered down the long drive. A delivery wagon approached, but one trailing two horses. Why would a delivery come at this hour, it was barely breaking dawn, and why to the front entrance?
Dick became more animated. He trotted toward the wagon.
William stood rooted to the spot, his heart pounding in his eardrums, his throat so full of hope that he wasn’t sure he could swallow.
The wagon pulled closer. Two people sat on the front bench. Judging from the whiskers, Thackett held the reins. The other was wrapped in a horse blanket to fend off the morning chill. It was a she, definitely a she, could it be . . . ? He ran toward the wagon. “Franny!” he yelled.
Thackett hadn’t reached the circle before William pulled Franny into his arms. He couldn’t hold her tight enough, kiss her face, her neck her forehead enough. “Franny, you’re alive. I was so afraid . . .”
And then he’d have to kiss her again just to make sure she wasn’t an illusion. Spotted Dick pranced around them, barking in celebration. William pressed his chin to the side of Franny’s head and offered a silent prayer of gratitude. Then he glanced to Thackett. “I’m greatly indebted to you, sir. I’m not sure I can find a sufficient reward but I’ll try. Come back near noon, and I’ll be able to express my gratitude more coherently.”
Franny pushed back from his embrace. “William, wait.”
That’s when he noticed the rope around her wrist; he grabbed her arm, holding it at length. Frustration that had simmered so near the surface burst into fury. “Who did this? Who did this? I will kill them.”
It may have been the dog barking, or his yelling, but soon others became witness to his reunion with his wife. Carruthers arrived without his jacket, a sight William had never seen before. Nicholas appeared as if he’d pulled on a pair of trousers for decency’s sake but was otherwise bare. Lily Mandrake hovered near the abbey door.
“William, please wait.” Fran separated herself from him, then walked to the far side of the rig.
“Thackett!” William yelled.
“In the back,” the farmer replied with a jerk of his head. “He’s trussed up with his own rope.”
Franny reached Thackett’s side then and spoke with him in tones William couldn’t hear. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, afraid she’d disappear if he blinked. He saw her point in his direction. Thackett straightened and followed the direction of her finger. What was going on?
“If I recall correctly,” Nicholas said, drawing to his side. “There’s a hanging tree out front. That poor abbey ghost could use some company, I would think. Do you want the honors, or shall I?”
Franny started to return to him, and Thackett heaved himself down off the buckboard.
“What the devil is going on here?” Bertie, dressed in a long nightshirt and cap, stomped toward William. “I just went to sleep a few hours ago and now—oh, Francesca, you’re back . . . with a rope.” He looked at William with a raised brow.
“The criminal that was at the other end of that rope is in the back of the wagon,” William said. He turned to Nicholas after pulling Franny tight to his side, “Get him out and lock him in one of the monk’s cells. The magistrate can deal with him later.”
Carruthers had arranged for a groomsman to take the two trailing horses back to their stalls. But it appeared the wagon would be staying in the curve of the driveway for a while. Thackett stood off from the crowd.
William hugged Franny again. “I’m never letting you out of my sight, ever. I knew you wouldn’t leave me, especially for the likes of him,” he said as Nicholas marched Randolph past the bystanders. “I knew that letter was a fraud. I knew you wouldn’t run away.”
“William,” she said. “We need to talk.”
Her voice was even, reminiscent of her Frosty Franny days. He’d have expected her to be overjoyed to be reunited, but then he realized she hadn’t said all that much—at least to him. He glanced up at Thackett still standing off to the side, waiting. For what? An ominous feeling gripped his throat. He pulled back and captured her gaze.
“Did he hurt you, Franny? Did he . . .” He didn’t want to say the word “rape.” It was too vile and ugly to consider.
Franny shook her head. “He didn’t touch me. I was drugged and unconscious most of the time, but I know . . . he didn’t do that.”
“Thank God.” He hugged her again, but she pushed back.
“William, we need to speak privately, but first . . .” She turned to Bertie. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time. I have a question and I’d like your answer before I speak with the Duke.”
“This sounds intriguing.” He glanced up at William. “May I borrow your wife for a moment?” William scowled but nodded. Franny led Bertie away from the crowd at the door, but remained in sight of William. He couldn’t hear the question asked or the answer given.
“Why is Franny consulting Bertie?” Nicholas asked, returning to William’s side. “I put Stockwell in that first cell, the one with the rat.” He smiled maliciously.
William didn’t feel like smiling. “Why is Thackett still here?”
Something was definitely wrong. William stood with his arms crossed, his legs braced, ready for the next threat to surface. Whatever it was she asked, Bertie stroked his chin in a sobering fashion, before answering. Not a crinkle of humor appeared on his face as he and Franny returned.
“Before I tell you about the circumstances that lead to our separation,” Franny said, “I have to tell you that Mr. Stockwell did not operate alone. There is someone in the abbey who intends to do harm to you, William. That would be Lady Mandrake.”
“Lily?” He almost laughed. Could this just be more of that feminine rivalry he’d witnessed at the dinner table? He glanced toward the front door, but she was no longer in sight. “I know she’s upset because I won’t participate in the tryst she envisions, but I don’t think she’d do serious harm.”
Franny did not smile. Bertie did not smile. William felt his own faltering. He turned to Nicholas. “Find her.”
“No,” Franny said. “Send someone else. This concerns Nicholas as well.”
He and Nicholas exchanged confused glances, but Bertie intervened. “I’ll take care of it. I suspect the three of you need some privacy.”
The sky was well lit with the pinkish light of dawn. The three walked toward the front door. William clasped Franny’s hand. He wasn’t about to let go. He had some questions of his own that he wouldn’t ask in his brother’s company, and he didn’t want her to disappear before he had answers. As they neared the top of the curve, Franny signaled for Thackett to follow them inside.
“We can talk in William’s study,” she said. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
Nicholas started down the hall, but William would not let go of her hand. When Thackett entered the foyer, he gave William a curt nod. “Your Grace.”
The old man’s face softened considerably when his glance settled on Franny. Something seemed different about the man, yet oddly familiar. Franny asked Thackett if he’d mind waiting in the library until they were through. Thackett smiled as if she had invited him to dance with her at tonight’s ball. She accompanied him, with William and Spotted Dick in tow, to the library, then returned to the study where Nicholas waited.
Thankfully, Nicholas had lit a fire in the fireplace. The sun hadn’t had sufficient time to burn away the chill of dawn, so the softly crackling fire was welcomed.
She closed the door, then set the horse blanket aside. William recognized her cold exterior, which meant she was struggling to hide her fear. Fear of what? Certainly not of him!
“I have some news that you are likely to disbelieve, but I assure you I’ve seen evidence that it is true. I was threatened that if I did not willingly go away with Randolph Stockwell and write that horrid letter, the news would be made public and embroil William in a public scandal.”
BOOK: The Seduction of a Duke
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