Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Good God, Ashcroft,” Hugo’s voice came cheerfully from the doorway. “Why are you sitting in darkness? Your eyes have healed. You can actually see now.”
Laurence sat in his darkened study, the curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. Archimedes purred contentedly in his lap as Laurence stroked the cat’s soft fur with mechanical repetition, his mind miles away.
The door had opened without warning, spilling light into the room.
Laurence didn’t look up. “I asked not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, well, I’m disturbing you anyway.” Hugo stepped inside, and Laurence heard lighter footsteps behind him. Octavia, then.
Perfect. Just what I need.
For the past four days, Laurence had done everything he could think of to reach Joan.
He’d sent messages to Fairfax Manor, all unanswered.
He’d gone to the hall during lesson times, only to find Victoria teaching in her sister’s place, offering vague excuses about Joan being unwell or occupied with estate matters.
He’d even considered going directly to Fairfax Manor again, but something had held him back.
The memory of Joan’s cold dismissal, her insistence that further communication go through their servants.
He didn’t want to damage her reputation further by showing up at her door again.
Not when she’d made it clear she wanted distance.
But her words haunted him. I’m getting married.
Was she serious? Or had it been said in anger, meant to push him away? And if she was serious, to whom? Why?
The questions circled endlessly in his mind, driving him to seek solitude and darkness where he could think without interruption.
“Give her more time,” Hugo said, settling into a chair uninvited. “Whatever happened between you two, she’ll come around.”
“I don’t think so,” Octavia said softly.
Both men turned to look at her. She stood near the door, her expression troubled.
“I think something might be wrong,” Octavia continued. “Truly wrong.”
Laurence sat up straighter, disturbing Archimedes, who meowed in protest. “What do you mean?”
Octavia twisted her hands together. “I wanted to apologize to Miss Sinclair and her sister. For the ball, for trying to match Miss Sinclair with Hugo when she clearly… when there was clearly something between you two.” She flushed slightly but pressed on.
“I swear I had no ulterior motive except to apologize properly. So I asked for directions to the hall, I’d heard about their school for the village children. ”
She paused, her expression growing more concerned. “When I arrived three days ago, I saw Miss Victoria at the back of the building. She was… she was wiping away tears. And not just a few tears, she looked as though she’d been sobbing for hours. Her eyes were so swollen I barely recognized her.”
Octavia’s voice dropped. “I felt it wasn’t the right time to intrude. So I left without speaking to her. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Something is very wrong with that family.”
Hugo and Laurence exchanged glances. Before either could respond, Jenkins appeared in the doorway.
“Your Grace, forgive the interruption, but there are three small children outside demanding to see you. They’re quite insistent.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Children? Ashcroft, have you extended your tyranny to terrorizing small children now? Is that what you’ve been doing in here?”
“I would never hurt children,” Laurence said coldly.
“They might be students from Miss Sinclair’s school,” Octavia suggested.
The three of them rose and made their way to the entrance hall, where indeed three children waited nervously. Two boys and a girl, all dressed in simple but clean clothes, all looking absolutely terrified.
They bowed in unison as Laurence approached, their eyes fixed on his scarred face with a mixture of fear and fascination.
Archimedes had followed Laurence from the study and now wound around his ankles, purring. The sight of the Duke with his intimidating scars holding a large orange cat seemed to confuse the children even more.
“Don’t be frightened,” Octavia said gently, kneeling to their level. “Tell us what you need.”
The girl, the one Laurence recognized from the night Joan had injured her wrist, took a trembling breath. “Thank you, Miss. I’m Imogen, and these are Percival and Edmund. We’re students at Miss Sinclair’s school.”
“We haven’t heard from Miss Sinclair in four days,” one of the boys, Edmund, added quickly. “Even our parents haven’t heard from her, which is strange.”
“And her sister won’t tell us anything,” Imogen continued, her voice wobbling. “We’re worried something’s happened to her.”
The other boy, Percival, was shaking so badly his teeth chattered. But he forced himself to speak, his words coming out in a rush. “Did… did you kill Miss Sinclair, Your Grace?”
Hugo burst out laughing. Laurence shot him a withering glare that immediately silenced him. Even Octavia was trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin.
The children trembled even more under Laurence’s stare.
“You’re scaring them,” Octavia whispered urgently.
Laurence inhaled slowly, forcing his expression to soften, a difficult task given the severity of his features. “I have not killed Miss Sinclair. I also have been trying to reach her for the past several days without success. I have no reason to harm her.”
I want to marry her, he thought. I want to keep her safe and happy and by my side for the rest of my life.
“Because you love her,” Edmund supplied helpfully.
Hugo snorted with barely suppressed laughter. Laurence glared at him until he composed himself.
“You shouldn’t say such things,” Laurence told the children sternly. “It’s not good for Miss Sinclair’s reputation when she’s trying to… when she needs to find a suitable husband.”
“But Miss Sinclair doesn’t care about marriage!” Imogen said brightly. “Even at her debut in London, she didn’t care about finding a husband. She told us so herself.”
Both boys nodded vigorously in agreement.
Laurence felt something click into place in his mind. Joan had no interest in marriage, she’d made that abundantly clear in every conversation they’d had. She’d turned down countless suitors during her debut. She’d devoted herself entirely to her family and her work.
So why would she suddenly announce she was getting married? Why would she push him away with such cold finality?
He looked at Octavia, who met his gaze with understanding in her eyes. She’d been right. Something was very wrong.
“Is Miss Victoria at the hall now?” Laurence asked the children.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Percival answered. “She’s been teaching the other students. We… we skipped school to come find you.”
Laurence turned to Jenkins. “Prepare the carriage. These children are coming with us.”
“At once, Your Grace.”
Octavia gathered the children and led them outside. Laurence set Archimedes down gently, the cat meowed in protest but padded off toward the kitchen, and followed Hugo to the waiting carriage.
“We need to speak with Victoria,” Laurence said grimly. “Joan is avoiding me, but her sister might tell us the truth.”
“Agreed,” Hugo said. “Though you should probably try to look less like you’re planning to murder someone. You’ll terrify the poor girl.”
Laurence didn’t respond. His mind was already racing ahead, planning what to say, how to get Victoria to trust him enough to reveal what was happening.
They arrived at the hall to find Victoria gathering books and slates, her movements lifeless. The moment the three children burst through the door, she looked up in alarm.
“Imogen? Percival? Edmund? What are you doing here? You were absent from lessons, I was about to visit your parents to ensure nothing was amiss.”
The children exchanged guilty glances.
Octavia stepped forward smoothly. “Miss Sinclair, the children were worried about your sister. They came to the Duke’s estate to… well, to ensure he hadn’t harmed her.”
Victoria’s head snapped around, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Laurence and Hugo in the doorway. She immediately dropped into a curtsy, her face going pale.
“Your Grace. I apologize for the children’s behavior. They meant no disrespect, ”
“It’s quite all right,” Octavia assured her. “Actually, I think I’ll see the children at home. The Duke wishes to speak with you privately.”
She herded the three students outside despite their protests, leaving Victoria alone with the two men.
Laurence approached slowly, noting how Victoria’s hands knotted in her skirts, how her entire body trembled like a leaf in a storm.
Hugo hung back, his usual jovial expression replaced by something more serious.
“Where is your sister?” Laurence asked directly.
“She’s resting,” Victoria said quickly. Too quickly. “Taking a break after a bout of illness. She’ll return to teaching soon, I’m sure.”
Laurence watched her hands twist tighter in her skirts, watched the tremor that ran through her. “Since she’s unwell, we should all go visit her. Ensure she’s being properly cared for.”
“No!” Victoria’s voice rose sharply. “That won’t be necessary. She’s fine, truly. She just needs rest.”
“Miss Victoria.” Laurence gentled his voice, forced his features into the softest expression he could manage. “I care about your sister. The children are worried. That’s why they came to me, because they sensed something was wrong.”
He took another step closer. “I mean no harm to you or to Joan. On the contrary, I want to help. But I can only help if you tell me the truth.”
A tear slipped down Victoria’s cheek. Then another. Then she was sobbing, great, heaving sobs that shook her entire frame.
“She’s getting married to that monster,” Victoria choked out between sobs. “That monster. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s me, it should have been me!”
Hugo moved forward immediately, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it into Victoria’s hands. “Easy now. Whatever it is, it can be fixed.”
“It can’t!” Victoria wiped at her face frantically. “You don’t understand!”