Chapter 25
Della rode on Biscuit, a very plump, tawny colored horse, and reveled in the perfect weather as they made their way through the park.
Families spread out their blankets, enjoying picnics while children laughed and played with hoops, racing each other to the finish line. People casually walked along the intersecting paths in the park, engaging in conversations with acquaintances they bumped into.
She looked over at Maggie. It was unlike one of them to not know what was going on with the other, but since Della had married Royce, things seemed…different. Maggie had become less talkative, only speaking when spoken to, and their ride through the park had not seemed to improve her mood.
The presence of the two footmen the Duchess had requested to accompany them seemed to make Maggie even more hesitant to discuss what was bothering her; even though they remained a respectful distance behind them.
The footman sauntered along on their horses, their expression betraying a hint of boredom, yet a sense of happiness at being relieved from whatever mundane duties they had left behind.
“Your Grace.” Della heard the clopping of hooves as one footman approached. “I have been asked to inform you that His Grace will join you as soon as he speaks with his mother.”
“Thank you.”
The footman bowed his head and fell back with the other and they resumed their conversation.
“Maggie?” Della asked a few minutes later.
“Yes?”
“Royce will join us shortly.”
Maggie just nodded.
“Is everything all right? You have seemed out of sorts lately. Is there anything I could help you with?” Della asked, unable to take Maggie’s silence any longer.
“I am fine…” Maggie appeared to be holding back something as her voice trailed off, as if there was more she wanted to say. “Actually…no, I am not.” She looked as though she was about to break down in tears, with her head hanging low.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Della asked, trying to offer comfort to her best friend.
“Perhaps another time, when we have a bit more privacy.”
Della nodded her understanding before she heard the clopping of hooves once again. Squinting her eyes against the sun, Della looked at the man on the horse coming toward them as they both turned around, expecting to see Royce.
“Do you know who that is?” Della asked Maggie right before the man reached inside his coat, pulled out a pistol, and aimed directly at them.
“Della, GO!” Maggie yelled, slapping the reins, urging her horse forward as the man continued to charge at them.
Della did not hesitate another second as she nudged Biscuit in the flank, willing her to pick up the pace, and they both took off, neither daring to glance back. Della looked to her left, then to her right, trying to decide which direction they should go.
“We need to split up!” Maggie yelled even louder over the thundering of the horses’ hooves as they came upon where the paths split. “He will only follow one of us. The other needs to circle back and get help.”
Della nodded her agreement when a shot rang out, striking a tree as they passed. She hunkered as low as possible, grabbing the reins tighter, and prayed she did not lose her seat.
“On the count of three. One, two—“another shot rang out—“three!”
Maggie drifted right as Della went left. Biscuit slightly protested at the command but obeyed, sensing the danger. They jumped over a small stream and began weaving their way around the trees, hearing hoofbeats behind her. The unknown man had followed her, which meant Maggie should be able to go back and get help.
Della desperately wanted to turn around to see how close the man was, but she did not dare as they came to a broader portion of a stream surrounded by a hedge. Knowing the best way forward was to jump over it, Della pressed Biscuit forward, hoping the horse would understand the command.
With one last slap of the reins, she held on with all her might as they soared through the air and over the hedge.
Biscuit stumbled, her leg buckling as they landed on the other side, causing Della to scream as she was thrown into the water with a splash. She lay there, momentarily stunned, but quickly gathered herself and ran for cover.
Della did not know how long she hid behind the group of bushes as she stood there cold and shivering from her sodden dress. She looked around for Biscuit, hoping she was okay, but the horse was nowhere to be seen.
“Della…Della, where are you? Please answer me!”
Della heard a familiar voice and peeked out from behind the bushes.
“Royce? Royce!” Della picked up her skirt and ran toward Royce’s outstretched arms. “Who was that man?”
“That is something we both want to know. I decided shortly after you left, I would join you all for tea, only to be told by Mother that you and Maggie had gone for a ride. I arrived to find Maggie racing toward me, yelling and pointing which way you went.
“One of footmen mother sent with you, told me what happened as we gave chase. From there, it was an all-out sprint to catch up, but we caught the bastard.” Royce took a deep breath. “His horse hesitated to jump the hedge and tossed him from the saddle.”
“He pulled out a pistol, and we made a run for it. Maggie said we should split up so he would choose only one of us to follow while the other got help,” Della said, as she buried her face in Royce’s chest, shaking at the thought of how scared she had been.
“That was the right decision.” Royce cupped the sides of Della’s face and tilted it up to look at him. “Are you hurt?”
“I am wet from landing in the water, but other than that, I am unharmed.”
Royce bent down and kissed her soundly.
“I will question him, then hand him over to the constable—if I do not kill him first.” Royce’s nostrils flared in anger as he rubbed his hands up and down Della’s arms. “Let us get you home and into some dry clothes.” Royce lifted Della up onto Titan, then pulled himself up behind her.
“I can still ride, you know.”
“I know, but Biscuit threw a shoe and has a slight limp. The footmen are letting her walk back at her own pace. Besides, I enjoy riding like this.” He gently kissed her forehead and turned Titan toward their home. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke in a hushed, dark tone. “It will let everyone know if they want you, they will have to go through me first.”
Royce tightened his grip around her and pulled her in until his chest was firmly pressed against her back. Sinking into his warmth, Della felt her anxieties melt away and a sense of calm take over.
When they had made it through the front door, Della was immediately ushered upstairs by Abigail, who fussed over her ruined dress and a few scratches that had started to bleed. Jeffries informed Royce that the man they had apprehended had been tied to a chair in the study, with footmen standing guard.
Royce thanked him and asked that messengers be sent out with notes to his family, Aden and Della’s father and aunt, requesting they adjourn to his home with all due haste. He stalked toward the man now strapped to a chair and asked the two footmen who had witnessed everything to stay and relay what had happened to the constable.
He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white as he entered the room, fighting the urge to pummel the man within an inch of his life. As Royce circled like a hawk, he could feel his frustration growing with each passing moment the vial man remained silent, refusing to answer any of his questions.
“I ain’t tellin’ you nuffin’” the man sneered.
Royce’s temper got the best of him, and he backhanded the man across the face, then leaned in to stare him down. “That was for my wife,” Royce snarled between clinched teeth. “What will happen to you in gaol is far worse. If you tell me what you know, I may ask them to grant some leniency.”
A crooked smile played across the man’s face, blood dripping from his busted lip as he spit at Royce.
“Piss off.”
Royce’s vision blurred with rage as he kicked the chair backward and lunged at the man who dared to harm Della. He felt a surge of satisfaction with each punch and could see the footmen growing increasingly uneasy, wondering if they should intervene or not.
“Royce, that is enough!” Grayson yelled as he barreled into the room, quickly grabbing his arms and pulling him away.
“Let the constable handle it,” Desmond said, helping Grayson.
Royce shook himself free from their grip but stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to calm down.
“How did you get here so fast?” Royce asked.
“We were already on our way to see you and had just arrived when one of your men came rushing out and informed us of what was going on,” Grayson said.
“Imagine our surprise of finding our eldest and most loving brother pummeling a man to within an inch of his life.” Desmond’s eyes shifted to the man strapped to the chair on the floor.
“He had it coming,” Royce growled, whipping a handkerchief from his pocket to press against his bloodied knuckles.
Soon, several police and the constable were ushered into the room, only to find the assailant already roughed up. Royce relayed the entire story, accompanied by the footmen, and said the man had suffered his cuts and bruises when he was thrown from his horse.
Royce stared the constable down, daring him to question the authenticity of his words as the rest of the police hauled the man away.
When Royce answered in the affirmative to the constable’s question about pressing charges, the constable told him they would notify him of the trial date.
Royce paced in front of the fireplace, now surrounded by his mother, Maggie, Grayson, Desmond, Aden, Mr. Rowntree, and Tilly. Della had yet to come down; no doubt Abigail was still fussing over her. He had been relieved to find that Della had been mostly unharmed by her hellbent ride through the park.
It was fortunate that she was an excellent rider, or the outcome could have been much worse.
“I thought everything leading up to our marriage had been just a set of unfortunate coincidences, especially since nothing has happened since we have been married, but after today—“Royce raked his hand through his hair—“I fear that someone may be after Della.”
“But who, Royce?” the Duchess looked at him with motherly concern. “Who could possibly want to harm Della?”
“Miss Putnam?” Desmond asked.
The Duchess gasped. “She may be upset, but I cannot fathom she would go to such extremes as this!”
“Have you seen the vultures who circle the ballroom, Mother?” Desmond replied, casually draping his arm across the back of his chair. “Most members of the Ton would probably commit murder if they thought they could get away with it to claim a title.”
“No, I will not tolerate Miss Putnam’s name being bandied about as if she were some common criminal,” the Duchess huffed.
“I agree with Mother,” Grayson said.
“You do not need to worry about Miss Putnam,” Royce added. “She and Della made amends on our wedding day and are now on friendly terms.”
“She could have lied…” Desmond retorted.
“Desmond!” Grayson snapped.
“Lord Haddock, then?” Aden interjected.
“I find it hard to believe he would have enough brains to be the mastermind behind all of this.” Royce tapped his finger against his cheek. “He accosted Della twice, it is true, and attempted to force her hand in marriage to him, but to what end? Besides, he has not been heard from since the Ravensdale ball.”
“I know his family has cut him off until he marries,” Grayson said to no one in particular, as he looked out the window. “He carries enormous gambling debts, most of which I own. His father refuses to pay them for him. It is possible he would have resorted to something he would not have normally done, desperate as he is for funds.”
“That would explain why he was so insistent on me accepting his proposal,” Della said calmly as she entered the room. “But do you honestly think he would stoop to something worse than proposing? And what about the man that chased Maggie and I earlier in the park?”
“He would revel nothing.” Royce said angrily as he ushered Della to a vacant chair by the fire.
“Then I can safely assume your attempt to persuade him to give you answers was in vain,” Aden said nonchalantly.
“Royce, your hand!” Della grasped his hand in hers, gently brushing her thumb over his bruised knuckles.
“I will be fine,” Royce assured her.
“I cannot believe I forgot…” Della said, still holding onto Royce’s hand.
“Forgot what, dear?” the Duchess asked.
“Our wedding day…”
“You forgot your wedding day?” Desmond asked.
“Desmond,” Royce grumbled.
“Sorry…” Desmond said, holding his hands up. “Please, continue.”
“I went to the retiring room before Royce, and I came out to join everyone…”
Royce noticed Aden glance at Maggie as he fidgeted with his signet ring at Della’s words; Maggie, too, had gone still. He tucked that observation away to be examined later as he listened to Della.
“Do you remember me mentioning that Emma and I spoke, Royce?”
“I have already told them you two were now on friendly terms,” he acknowledged.
“Do you remember me telling you that her father has plans to send her away to Scotland to live with relatives?”
“He what?!” Grayson exclaimed.
Della nodded at Grayson’s outburst. “Emma sent me a letter informing me she is to depart the day after tomorrow. But when we spoke at the wedding, she said her father was blinded by his anger for her failure to marry you, Royce. Lord Milton also said he would send for her once he sorted things out, but Emma did not understand what he meant by that.”
“You do not think Lord Milton’s need to ‘sort things out’ involves the two of you, do you?” Mr. Rowntree asked.
“I know he is not happy with me, and we all know he is quick to anger when he feels like he has been wronged, but I cannot speak as to what he might do in certain situations.”
“Where does that leave us?” Maggie asked.
“I do not know.” Royce raked his hand through his hair, trying to remain calm. “I can only suggest that we remove ourselves from the equation until we can figure some things out. Grayson and Desmond, cancel whatever plans you have. Mother, please send your regrets for any events you might attend and inform Imogen of the change of plans. We leave for Derrington Chase tomorrow.”
“But surely whoever they are will know where we have gone,” Della said.
“Then we prepare the best we can and stay vigilant,” Royce said, smiling down at Della, hoping to allay some of her worries.
“That means your family dinner will be changing location, dear,” the Duchess said, looking at Della. “I will talk to Imogen and let her know the details. Della, will you send notice to Scrivens to let him know the entire family is about to descend upon him? You are now the mistress of Derrington Chase, after all. Jeffries and Mrs. Barlow should be able to watch over everything here. Maggie, come along. There is much to do.” The Duchess swept from the room without another word.
Royce saw Maggie stop to glance at Aden before she, too, left.
“Aden, I know it is asking a lot on such short notice, but will you join us?” Royce asked.
“If it means I can avoid my father and help you sort this out, I will happily oblige,” Aden said. “I will see you tomorrow.” He saluted and left the room.
“Royce, is this truly necessary?”
“Until this family is safe…until you are safe—”he looked at Della sincerely—“everything is necessary.”
“I love you,” Della said as she gently pulled him in for a kiss.
Royce growled as Della snaked her hands up the back of his neck, weaving her fingers into his hair. Savoring the moment, he held onto her tightly, grateful for her safety and the comfort of her embrace. He reluctantly stepped back from their kiss and, holding tightly to Della’s hand, they headed off to make the necessary preparations before leaving for Derrington Chase.