Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Later that evening
Benedict reluctantly had taken his friend’s advice and waited to confront Hartley after the ball, but he was not willing to take the chance of the bastard leaving Brighton before he handled matters between them. It had not taken him long to discover where Hartley was staying while in Brighton and as he waited across the street from the young lord’s Brighton residence, his anger grew.
“Lurking about in the shadows is definitely something more suited for Davenport,” Avanley said as he approached from behind surprising Benedict. “After the incident yesterday, you would think you would be more careful. It would not take much for someone to take another shot at you now. With the way you are in the open, they wouldn’t even have to be an expert marksman.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Just because I discouraged you from attacking Hartley at the ball, doesn’t mean that I don’t support your retribution. Besides, I felt as if you may need my assistance if Hartley proves more than you can handle.”
Benedict’s grin was not one of mirth. “You are an arse, Avanley.”
Charles crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you given any thought to the idea of Hartley being the one behind the attacks on you?”
Benedict shook his head in denial. “No, do you not think that if he was the one behind the attack yesterday that he would have avoided the confrontation with Sophie? Besides, what does he have to gain? Sophie would never entertain any suit from him even if she were widowed.” He sighed heavily.
“Hopefully, Henry will be able to delve further into your family tree and give you the names of your closest relatives, at least the ones that would benefit from your early death. The sooner you have the names, the sooner we can decide if that is the path you should take when looking for your would-be assassin.”
They turned toward the sound of horses approaching and both remained still as a carriage came to a stop outside the residence.
“It seems as if your quarry has arrived. Do let me know if he is too much for you to handle.”
A deep savage growl rumbled up from Benedict’s throat as he made his way across the street alone.
Hartley exited the conveyance and stopped when he noticed Benedict walking toward him.
Benedict knew he had to keep control of his anger, but it was difficult when he saw the arrogant smirk on Hartley’s face. He wanted to kill the man, but the scandal and problems that would create would be more bothersome than he cared to deal with.
“Benedict Kingston, and to what do I owe this honor?” Hartley’s eyebrows shot up in mock deference. “Oh, I apologize, I was only recently informed of your recent rise in prominence, your grace.”
His words were slightly slurred, and it was apparent that he was deep into his cups, otherwise, he would have recognized the danger he was in. “The Duke of Kenworth, what a blemish to be forced onto the nobility. A gambler and a libertine taking his place among the bluest blood in the country. It is a shame that the ton will be thus polluted, but your wife…”
Benedict struck out and knocked the man down with one punch. “You are not to ever speak of my wife.”
Hartley rose slowly to his feet, obviously taken aback by Kingston’s violent outburst. He wiped the blood from his lip. “Ah, you know then. When I first met her, she was so sweet, so innocent. Something I am sure you have taken from her by now. I remember the frightened look in her eyes when I first met her, like a young fawn caught in the hunter’s snare. I looked forward to furthering our association. Her innocence coupled with her fear would have been quite the aphrodisiac in the bedroom. I was most disappointed to hear that you had stolen her away, but I am a patient man. How long do you suppose it will take before you tire of all this domestication?”
Benedict clenched his hands into fists. “You are as big a fool as her brother. You have no idea how much I would like to kill you and rid England of your stench. I will, however, settle on your total ruination.”
Hartley had the nerve to laugh. “You think you can ruin me? The likes of you will never be able to touch me. Why don’t you return to the Lair, we all know you don’t belong anywhere else.”
Benedict grabbed him by the cravat and shoved him against the brick wall surrounding the house. “Not that I give a damn about what you and the degenerates you associate with think of me, but if I ever hear of you speaking of my wife again, I will not hesitate to take your life.”
Hartley’s lips turned up in a malevolent grin before he chuckled. “Speak of her? Have you not been listening, Kingston? I don’t want to speak of her, I want to tup her, and I will do just that the minute your back is turned.”
This time Benedict didn’t hold back. He took Hartley by surprise, hitting him so hard that he heard the crack of his teeth. All the fury Benedict had been feeling at Hartley, at Sophie’s brother, at Warrick for his obvious infatuation with her, and his uncle for dying and thrusting the massive responsibility of the dukedom on his head, came to the surface. He hit Hartley again and again losing count of the number of times his fist met with Hartley’s flesh. The man slumped to the ground barely conscious. Kingston grabbed him by the collar of his coat to haul him back to his feet when Avanley moved to restrain him.
“Enough! That’s enough, Kingston! While I did enjoy watching the spectacle, I do not wish to see you embroiled in the scandal it would cause if you killed him.”
Benedict heard his friend’s words through the red haze of fury and dropped Hartley back to the ground. “Keep away from my wife, and if I ever hear of you speaking of her or to her again, I will not hesitate to repeat this night.”
He jerked out of Avanley’s restraint and stepped away. His breath coming in short furious gasps. He flexed his fingers glad to know he had not broken any on the bastard’s face.
Hartley lay on the street heaving and spitting blood from his mouth. Charles knelt beside him and smiled as he picked up a tooth from the sidewalk. “Hartley, I am not certain I have ever met a bigger fool. How has your mouth not gotten you killed before now?” He took out a handkerchief and thrust it at the young lord’s face. “While my friend has made his thoughts on the matter painfully clear, let me also say that Kingston has the full support of several influential members of the ton, including the prince. From this point on you will show him the respect due him as the Duke of Kenworth. I hope I make myself clear. If it is a personal war you seek, I would look for an easier target.” He rose to his feet. “As for the duchess, you would be wise to steer clear of her and mind your words.”
Before walking away, Charles ground his boot onto the man’s hand enjoying the way the bones crunched underneath and the screams it elicited from Hartley. “I hope there will be no further need to revisit this matter.”
With that being said, Avanley turned to catch up with his friend. “Come, we can take my carriage.”
Benedict shook his head. “I can take a hack.”
“Nonsense, we can stop by my house and my valet can tend to the wounds on your hand. He is an expert at removing swelling and putting in stitches if necessary.”
Benedict shook his head as his lips formed into a small sarcastic grin. “I imagine with the amount of time and the number of sparring matches you have at Jackson’s; he would be an expert.”
Avanley rolled his eyes. “I may have had need of him a time or two, but it is mainly my opponents that require his ministrations. You should join me at Jackson’s when we return to London, I was impressed with your skill, it is an excellent way to exercise and work off your frustrations.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I only fight out of necessity, not enjoyment. Although I must admit, I did enjoy beating the shite out of Hartley.”
Avanley laughed heartily. “Yes, it was entertaining to watch until I thought you were intent on killing him.”
“I wanted to kill him, and I might have if you had not been there.”
Avanley opened the door of the carriage. “Then it is most fortunate that I decided to follow you tonight. Go on, get in. We both could use a drink, and I have some of the best brandy in Brighton.”
Kingston leaned his head back against the carriage cushions and looked down at his hands. They were swollen and bloody and he could use a bloody drink. When Hartley had mentioned that he would take Sophie to his bed, he had lost all control. Killing the man for even thinking that he had the right to touch Sophie was the only thing he could think of. He closed his eyes against the increasing ache in his head and thought of her, his wife, the woman he had married as a business deal. But if someone truly was intent on seeing him meet an untimely end, would she be safer if he sent her away until the danger had passed? And if he sent her away would men like Warrick see that as an opportunity to have her?
Sophie waited in the duke’s chambers for Benedict to return. He had been so angry when he sent her home from the ball. She found herself pacing the floor as time dragged on and wondered if he would even return tonight. She walked to the window to peer outside. The sky was dark, even the moon was hidden behind the clouds. She thought about getting dressed, but she would have no idea where to search for him, and going out alone at night would be foolish.
The fire in the grate was burning low so she walked over to tend it before sitting in the large chair before the hearth. She pulled her feet underneath her and leaned her head to the side to rest against the chair. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, staring into the flames when she heard the quiet click of the lock as the door to the bedchamber closed.
“You should be in bed,” Benedict said as he crossed the room, removing his cravat and coat as he stepped closer to her.
Sophie stood from the chair and turned around to face him. “I was worried, you were angry, and I was afraid you would do something unwise.”
Benedict whipped his shirt over his head and grinned at her comment. “Unwise?”
Sophie watched as he moved toward the decanter of brandy sitting on the table beside his bed and as he poured himself another drink, she noticed his bandaged hand. She rushed forward and carefully took his injured hand in her own.
“What happened to your hand?”
Benedict took a sip of his brandy. “I had a conversation with Hartley.” He saw her eyes widen. “It is fine. Avanley’s valet tended it.”
She ran her fingers lightly across the bandaged knuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hartley. I was ashamed and afraid.”
Benedict put a finger beneath her chin to lift her face. “You have done nothing to be ashamed of, Sophie, but why were you afraid? I already knew of what your brother had tried to do.”
Sophie closed her eyes briefly. “Things are different now. You are the Duke of Kenworth, a fine family name with an esteemed heritage. As your duchess, I should do nothing to bring shame to you, and if it became widely known about my brother’s desire to set me up as a courtesan, your family name would suffer. No matter how much you would like to believe that it doesn’t matter, it does, and the ton will be cruel.”
Benedict leaned forward and softly kissed her lips. “Darling, I don’t give two figs about the ton or what they think about me or the duchy of Kenworth. But no one will ever be cruel to you. That was the message I delivered to Lord Hartley firsthand this evening. You are mine to protect, and protect you I will, no matter the cost.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The need to have her tonight was stronger than anything he had ever felt before. He walked her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed, then he gently pushed her back and followed her covering her body with his. Tonight, he would not think of the future, at what tomorrow might bring. Tonight, he just wanted to love her.
The next morning, he sat alone in his study waiting for Avanley to arrive. Sophie had already left for the day. She was to meet Bella and the two of them were to join the prince and his entourage as they journeyed outside of town for a picnic. While Sophie had offered to stay with him when he told her he would not be accompanying them, he had insisted that she go enjoy herself with the others. In truth, he didn’t want her to find out about the attempt on his life, and her being out of the house gave him and Avanley the freedom to discuss the incident.
He had walked her outside to the carriage. She looked lovely in another new dress with a matching bonnet and parasol. As he assisted her inside the barouche, he found himself reluctant to release her. There was a decision to be made, and if he told her how he truly felt, it would make the decision more difficult, and she would be reluctant to leave. He hoped it would not come to that, but if it did, he wanted it to be easier for her. His biggest fear, other than her safety, was that if he let her go, he would not be able to win her back once the danger had passed.
“Henry said you were in your study. He did not, however, say that you were in a state of melancholy. I swear if you start behaving as Prinny does whenever he is faced with any sort of tribulation, I will have to renounce our friendship,” Charles said as he walked into the study. “Instead of sitting here being pensive and mournful, why don’t we go take a walk? It is a glorious day, and the fresh air might clear your head.”
Benedict didn’t even look up at his friend’s entrance. He solemnly stared ahead, unmoving. “I’m going to send her away.”
Charles narrowed his eyes just a fraction. “Are you quite certain? We haven’t sorted all of this out just yet. The shot could have been just an unlucky coincidence. I wouldn’t make a hasty decision based on the information you hold in your hands now.”
“What would you do, Charles, if Isobel’s life was in jeopardy just because she was with you? Would you continue to hold onto her simply out of selfishness? I would rather see her happy living without me than to live with the guilt I would face if I kept her with me and something happened to her, something that was meant for me.”
Charles sighed heavily as he regarded his friend. “All I am saying is that I don’t want you to do anything you will later come to regret. Now, as to what I would do in this situation, I would go find the bastard causing this problem and end his miserable life. So, let’s be off then.”
Benedict laughed wryly as he stood from where he had been moping since Sophie had left this morning. And as they left his house in search of whatever or whoever they were seeking, he had a small glimmer of hope. Hope that he would be able to end this without losing Sophie because even though he was loath to admit it, he believed he had fallen deeply in love with her.
Sophie sat on one of the blankets that had been provided for the prince’s guests and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The party consisted of about twenty of his majesty’s closest friends. The prince himself was not in a jovial mood, and Lord Worcester had commented that his majesty was melancholy because of a cartoon depiction of him that he had seen that morning. The prince was most sensitive about the way he was depicted in the papers and while he wanted to be a loved and respected monarch, there were many who thrived on criticizing him on everything from his spending habits, his romantic conquests, his political decisions, to his appearance. Sophie felt a twinge of sympathy for their future monarch and was glad that she was not living under such a constant strain.
“Are you not enjoying the picnic, your grace?”
Sophie shielded her eyes with her hand and looked up at the man speaking. “I am quite content, my lord. I find the weather lovely, and the prince certainly picked out a beautiful place to stop for luncheon.”
Lord Warrick held his hand out to her. “There are several others by the lake. I believe Avanley’s duchess is there. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to be your escort?”
Sophie smiled and allowed him to help her to her feet. “I have heard that you have decided to extend your time in Brighton, is there truth to those rumors?”
He shrugged before giving her a devastating smile. “Normally, I would advise against believing rumors, but in this case, they are true.”
“With you being away from your family for so long while you were in India, I imagined that you would be anxious to see them.”
“I went to Warrick Hall before going to London. My brother and sisters are all busy with their own interests and don’t begrudge me a little bit of freedom before I settle down into my role as head of the family.”
Sophie noticed that when he spoke of his brother and sisters there was a brighter smile on his face. “Are you very close with your siblings?”
There was a hint of a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke, and his smile widened. “We were very close before I left for India, and they grew up quite a bit while I was away. My sisters especially. Elizabeth will have her first season next year and Phoebe two years after. My brother Aldric, however, is a devout bachelor. He speaks of nothing but living the life of a man about town in London. He is two years younger than me.”
Sophie listened as he talked about his family and felt a pang of envy that he had such a close relationship with his siblings. She and her brother had never been close. Even as young children her brother was abusive and self-centered, and after his recent actions she knew they would never be close. She lamented the fact that she had no family, other than her husband.
“I’m sorry, your grace. Have I said something that has upset you?”
Sophie quickly shook off her melancholy mood and pasted a smile on her face. “Certainly not, I was just deep in thought.” She looked toward the lake and waved at Bella. “Thank you again for your assistance with Lord Hartley.”
“There is no need to speak of it again, your grace.”
Sophie was touched by his generosity and understanding.
They made their way to where Bella was standing speaking with Lord and Lady Motley. Bella as always had a smile on her face. “Lord Warrick, what a delight it is to see you again.”
“And you as well, your grace.”
“It is a lovely day for a picnic. I was so disappointed that Charles could not join us. He and Benedict had already made plans.”
“I am sorry they were unable to attend.” He looked back to Sophie. “I believe the prince is ready for us to depart.”
The others appeared to be readying the carriages for their departure. “I do hate for the afternoon to end. I so love the warm sunshine,” Sophie said as she linked arms with Bella.
Bella laughed softly. “Yes, I suppose we should return to see what mischief our husbands have been into today. Lord Warrick, will you ride back with us?”
“It would be my pleasure, your grace.”
“Now that I finally convinced you to leave the dark and gloom of your study, let’s talk about your predicament. My first question would be, where is her damn worthless brother? I think it would be wise to locate him, if for nothing more than to keep an eye on his activities. He is your brother-in-law; you might want to take a firmer hand with the lad.”
Benedict frowned as he considered Charles’ thoughts on Sophie’s wastrel of a brother. “I have no intention of becoming involved with the man at all, and I certainly don’t want him anywhere near Sophie. I have, however, hired Bow Street Runners to locate him. I would like to know his location to help determine if he has a hand in what occurred the other day.”
“Well, until we know more from your list of suspects, I might ask what your plans are for the Lair. I have not heard you mention the expansion into Brighton as enthusiastically as I expected.”
Benedict nodded at one of the ladies they passed along the street before turning back to his friend. “I have been thinking more about going from here to Kenworth Park before returning to London. As the new duke, I feel it pertinent that I gain knowledge of my interests and holdings there. After I have evaluated the healthiness of the duchy coffers, I will make a more informed decision concerning the expansion.”
Charles let out a heavy sigh. “Since you seem to have everything well in hand and this conversation is more than a little depressing. Might I suggest that we seek out some entertainment? Lord Fitzgerald and young Lord Netherfield were deep into their cups last night and began disparaging each other’s driving abilities. It was decided that they would race their phaetons today on the outskirts of town. Several gentlemen are already placing their bets. As you know Lord Netherfield’s father was a member of the Four in Hand club, and many are speculating on if he can handle a team of horses as well as his father. It should be quite a spectacle especially if the two young men are still foxed. We can ride out there and watch. I have a mind to place a bet on Fitzgerald. Netherfield is much too arrogant and has a lot to learn before he can be taken seriously. It will give you the opportunity to possibly make a few extra pounds and take your mind from your dire situation.”
“I seldom wager on horses, and even less when the gentlemen handling them are incompetent, not to mention drunk, but I certainly don’t mind watching you lose money.”
Charles laughed loudly. “I’m afraid you will be disappointed because I seldom lose…at anything.”