Page 84 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

Adrian disengaged himself from Emma with regret. “Stay here just in case.”

She released her breath as he hurried through the rain with Bones a few steps ahead. The two men who walked toward her looked bedraggled but not afflicted with any mortal injuries that she could discern. The footman appeared, on closer inspection, to be supporting the coachman against his shoulder.

Odham sent her a puzzled smile. “Why didn’t you tell him what you saw?”

“He didn’t want me to see,” she murmured.

“Ah.” He nodded, his mood lifting. “I think that you two valiant ladies could do with a bracing pot of tea.”

She turned from the window, color returning to her cheeks. “Oh, to hell with tea, Odham. I think we deserve a bottle of porter each.”

Hermia laughed in approval. “Well said, my dear. In fact, I think that is the first piece of advice of yours I am tempted to take.”

Chapter Nineteen

Adrian’s brother Cedric overtook them less than a mile from the bridge. A small band of outriders from the estate accompanied him. He explained that he had been waiting at the main crossroads to escort them to Scarfield and was concerned at their delay. He whitened when Adrian explained what had happened during his detour.

“Thank God none of you were killed,” Cedric said in distress. “This is not the homecoming any of us envisioned.”

Lady Dalrymple stuck her head out the window. “Two of them escaped into the woods. I shall not sleep for weeks.”

Adrian took his brother aside. “My coachman took a pistol ball in his upper leg. It needs attention. There is also a body lying back before the bridge that requires a hasty burial.”

“You—you killed one of them?”

Adrian frowned. “I hope I wasn’t expected to shake his hand and ask him to come meet my father. I think I killed him, Cedric. That is my wife in the carriage. I would have killed every one of the curs had I caught them.”

“I see,” Cedric said faintly. He blinked several times. “But you didn’t—well, you know—”

Adrian stared at his brother. Was this cowed lordling the result of his father’s constant browbeatings? “I didn’t what, man? For God’s sake, spit it out.”

“You didn’t, um”—Cedric loosened his spotless white cravat—“behead this man, did you? The papers were full of reports—I only ask so that I may warn the servants what to expect.”

Adrian almost laughed. He realized that his family had kept abreast of his exploits. His father’s letters had revealed as much. However, he had not expected that they would believe every exaggerated account that had been written about him. “Do not worry,” he said in a wry undertone. “We can feed the head to my wolf pack at a later time.”

Cedric nodded weakly. “You’re teasing me. You always teased me, Adrian. It really isn’t fair, you know. Florence and I cried inconsolably when you left. I had no one to stand up for me when you went away.”

Adrian clasped his brother’s arm. “I’m home for now at least,” he said. “And if you allow it, I’ll stand up for you whenever necessary.”

Cedric dredged up a lukewarm grin. “I’ll more than allow it. I am glad to see you again, Adrian. And life here has not been as tragic as I have made it sound. Sad, perhaps, but let us hope that is all behind us.”

It was evening when the ducal coach reached the estate under mounted escort. Emma was grateful to seek refuge in the rooms that she and Adrian had been allotted, even if the duke had made a point of asking to see his son alone.

“I know this will be unpleasant,” she whispered to Adrian as they stood together in a vaulted entrance ornamented with stags’ heads while their luggage was unloaded. “Do your best to remember his age and the respect you owe him.”

He stayed at her side until a servant in formal livery arrived to announce that the upstairs rooms had been warmed and made comfortable for the night. Thereupon he launched into a prepared speech about how heartening it was to have the duke’s heir home.

For his part Adrian fought a devilish urge to slap the stuffy fellow on the back and beg him to leave off his long-winded welcome. Emma, on the other hand, nodded as if all this formality were her due and followed the chattering little man across the hall.

And suddenly Adrian felt empty, and on edge.

He watched his wife disappear up the dark Jacobean staircase with Hermia and Odham. He had played on those stairs as a child. He had slid down the balustrade with his wooden sword to terrify the servants and his two younger siblings.

Wild little demon, they’d whispered. Son of a whore and a soldier. No one thought he’d come to a good end.

He had returned to reclaim his past. His birthright. He was a ghost, he thought. The boy who’d frolicked in this house had died years ago.

Hermia leaned lightly on Emma’s arm as the pair of them ascended the long staircase, Odham and the loquacious footman leading the way.