Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Jane traced the frost on the schoolroom window. The view from this room was extraordinary. She was not sure why she had come here. She looked to the other window.
Yes, she did. There at that window they had shared their first kiss.
A kiss that opened her to thoughts and dreams of a happy marriage.
Until he lied or had not lied. Her mind and heart still warred over his words and the impossibility Richard insisted to be reality.
Only two days ago he had explained himself.
The trip to Shrewsbury had been so much different than she expected.
The kiss on her hand had almost been as intimate as the kiss he gave her in this very room.
The swirling feeling had not been as intense, true, however, the warmth inside had filled her with a contentment she couldn’t name.
Jane rubbed the band on her finger, no longer loose enough to turn easily.
Wednesday night after their return, her life returned to the before birthday normal.
She dined with her husband. They played a game after dinner and talked.
He explained the presence of extra “footmen” citing that his brother had pretended to leave England.
He had not tried to kiss her other than the nightly kiss on her cheek or forehead.
Yesterday was much the same. She noticed the extra guards when she walked Duke.
A footman was always near in the house. Even now one lurked in the corridor outside.
No doubt the footman thought it odd that she had wandered to the unused room.
Duke curled up in the square patch of sunlight coming in through the window and closed his eyes.
Jane returned her thoughts to the reason she had come to the room.
Richard…
He was waiting.
Waiting for her. Her turn. Only she was not sure what the game board looked like. No, this was not a game. No winner would be declared. They either both won or both lost.
She wanted the feelings back that his touch brought. She wanted the closeness they shared back.
Last night she had almost risen on her toes and given him the kiss she longed for.
Almost.
She looked down at the doodles she had drawn in the frost to see a heart.
If George were here, she would tell Jane to stop hiding and be brave.
Apologize.
Richard had not lied.
Take down those bricks in the wall she had built to protect herself from her father’s words.
She had read enough novels to know that a man who acted as her husband had been bore forbearance as an admirable trait. His every action had been of kindness and consideration.
There could not be a kinder man in all of England. He was in every way the perfect man. The man her father did not think existed.
She retraced the heart. More than he being in love with her, was she with him? How could she not be? Richard was more than a fictional hero, he was hers. Never had his ill-nature been meant for her. She only saw the sullenness when he spoke of Ethel, Duncan, or her father.
Tonight she would apologize.
In the parlor where they had been sitting before. If she was very brave, she would whisper back the words he had said to her after she kissed him. If she was very, very brave tonight she would open the door that separated their rooms.
She would be brave.
Duke stood from where he lay at her feet and gave a low growl.
Francis burst into the room. “There you are, Your Grace. I came to ask if now would be a convenient time to try on the gowns I have repaired. Also, your ridding habit has arrived from Shrewsbury.”
Jane set her hand against the window to melt the heart away before her abigail saw the private drawing. “Yes. Now works quite well.”
A footman Jane did not recognize stood guard in the corridor, a different one than had followed her upstairs. There were so many of them.
Francis turned the opposite way of the main staircase. “The servants’ stairs are faster. You do not mind, since you are wearing one of your older gowns today?”
Jane had put on a brown gown of a fine wool this morning as well as the heavy flannel petticoat she purchased in Bath as last night’s frost left a chill in the air, even indoors.
Jane followed Francis into the servants’ hallway with Duke and the footman trailing behind.
Not exactly to her surprise, there was not only a staircase but a number of narrow corridors branching off before they reached the staircase.
Jane had known the servants slipped from room to room through their own doors, but she had not expected the route to be so circuitous.
When they emerged, Jane found they were not in the family wing at all but in the guest wing.
Francis opened the door to the King’s chambers. “I put the dresses in here since the room was empty. This room has the best light this time of day.”
Jane and Duke followed Francis into the room. The footman shut the door behind them to stand guard outside. Jane thought she heard the soft click of the well-oiled lock.
There were no dresses.
“I put them in the dressing room.”
Jane continued through the empty sitting room into the bedroom.
Only instead of the room being empty, a single chair, one that had obviously come from the green room, sat where the bed should be.
More surprising still was the man sitting in the chair, the same smirk from the painting Richard showed her, Duncan Kenworth.
Duke growled low and backed up to Jane’s legs as if to act as a shield.
Duncan rose to his feet. He was an inch or so taller than Richard and just as broad through the shoulders. He scoffed. “This is the new duchess? Are you sure you did not bring me a maid, Frannie?”
“I told you she was not like the last one. Particularly today. I had a lovely gown—”
“Enough.” Duncan silenced the abigail. “You were not seen coming here?”
“No. Only your man followed us.” Francis moved to Duncan’s side looking up at him with besotted eyes.
Duke growled again. Jane wished to join him. How had she not seen that Francis’s ineptitude was born of deceit? Deliberate sabotage.
“Did you have to bring the dog?”
“If I did not, he would have raised a ruckus.” Francis placed a hand on Duncan’s chest in a manner that appeared both lewd and seductive. “Look at her blush. I told you she could not yet be with child.”
“Is that true, Your Grace?” Duncan’s mocking tone echoed her father’s. “Has my brother failed to properly bed you?”
Jane lifted her chin. She would not dignify him with an answer. She needed to think. At this far end of the house, even her loudest screams were unlikely to be heard by anyone but the dog at her side.
Duncan chuckled. “How delicious to know he has failed again. Now it only remains to decide what to do with you.”
Duke growled again.
“Shut up dog. You will not live long enough to protect her.” Duncan stepped away from Francis. He pulled two long scarves from his pocket and bowed mockingly. “Your Grace.”
He was going to tie her up. Jane whirled, intent on reaching the door. Duncan was on her in two strides. Yanking her left arm back with a force she had never known. Pain radiated from her shoulder, accented with a loud pop. She screamed out in pain only to have him clamp his hand over her mouth.
He yanked her left arm harder. The pain enough to cause her to see stars.
“I have no intent of killing you as I have no wish to face the noose or worse. It is best that you come peaceably.” With Francis’s help, Duncan tied her arms behind her back and used the other cloth to gag her.
Duke barked and Duncan kicked him. The dog slid across the polished marble. “Get the dog.”
“He does not like me.” Francis’s whine matched that of Duke’s when Martha was not available to take Duke down to a footman.
“We cannot leave him here. We must make haste before someone misses the duchess.”
None to gently, Francis scooped up the dog.
Duncan stepped around Jane and opened a panel in the wall.
So much for Richard believing there were no secret passages.
“Frannie my pet, if you will lead the way. You next duchess. I hope you do not fear spiders.” His vile laugh echoed back from the darkness beyond the door.
Duncan hurried them into the passage which was lit by a lantern on a hook.
Francis descended the steps only as far as the light reached.
With both hands tied behind her, Jane had no way to steady herself on the stone treads.
She leaned her good shoulder against the wall and took the first two steps.
Behind her, Duncan shut the door with a click and lifted the lantern.
“Proceed Frannie. We must hurry.”
Even with Duncan prodding her from behind. Jane struggled to keep up with her soon to be former maid, afraid she would trip over her skirt or slippery step.
“This will not do.” Duncan tugged on her wrist binding, freeing her hands. “Hold up your dress and hurry. I will not have you die here.”
The weight of the skirt made her left shoulder throb more. Jane used her right hand to gather her gown and balanced the best she could with her left hand lightly brushing the cold stone wall.
She counted the stairs. Twenty, they must be below the main level. At the forty-second step the stairs ended at the mouth of a narrow tunnel Duncan’s head only just cleared the ceiling of. The increased dampness of the wall could only mean they were underground.
Jane pressed forward, glad to hear Duke whimper. If she could speak, she would command him to play dead. A trick she had only recently learned he knew. She willed the dog to be good in Francis’s arms.
The floor began to slope, not upward as she hoped but downward. They walked on. She should have been counting her steps. How long could this tunnel be?
A curve to the right opened the tunnel up to a wider portion, though still too narrow to walk two abreast.
Francis broke the silence. “How much further? This dog is heavy.”
“You did not complain last night nor the night before that.” Duncan’s voice held a laugh that sent shivers crawling up Jane’s spine.
“I was not carrying a dog,” whined Francis
“Only a bit further. See there is the ladder.”
“I can’t climb that with the dog.” Francis stopped at the base of stone steps so vertical that the word ladder was a more accurate description.
“Let his mistress hold him. Then I will hand the mongrel up.”
Francis turned and deposited Duke in Jane’s arms. Pain shot through Jane’s shoulder, but she did not drop her beloved dog.
The abigail climbed the ladder and pushed on the wooden trapdoor in the stone ceiling.
Duncan handed the lantern up to Francis, then the dog. “After you, Your Grace.”
Jane struggled up the ladder. If Phil could climb down a trellis covered with spider-infested ivy to save the man she loved, Jane could get up this ladder and find a way to be reunited with the man she loved.
Yates threw open the study door. “We cannot find Her Grace or her abigail.”
“What?” Richard could not possibly have heard correctly.
“She is gone.”
Richard stood. “How? Weren’t you watching her?”
“I was, Your Grace. I received a message that Birch needed to speak to me in the parlor where they hold our meetings. I had Stone take my place. He followed her to the third floor. I waited for Birch, and when he did not show, I went in search of him only to find Birch with the steward. We raced to the third floor where we found Stone bound and gagged, his coat missing. He is with Birch now. I searched the area and could not find her. She was in the schoolroom last.”
“Why would she go there?” A ridiculous reason flashed through Richard’s mind, but it did not matter if that was the room where they shared their first kiss. She was gone.
“I do not know. Stone said that is the room she went in. I searched the area and went to her chambers. The maid, Martha, was there and said that the abigail, Francis, left some time earlier, upset that a package had not arrived yet. After a search of the chambers, I sent Martha to speak with Birch as well.”
“What else is being done?” Richard struggled to keep his voice calm.
“I have sent the men to their posts to search.”
“Could she have left?” Jane was fond of taking the dog out, but she knew better than to go alone.
“I have a man on every door.”
“Where are Stone and Martha? I wish to speak to them myself!”
“In the meeting parlor, Your Grace.” Yates bowed slightly as Richard passed.
For the first time since he was a schoolboy, Richard ran through the house.