Chapter Seventeen
James masked his disappointment as he walked down to the beach with Jordan and Robert. The boys were confused about Gwendolyn’s not joining them, but he did not want to let on what had happened to throw their plans into disarray.
“But Papa,” Robert said, “she wanted to join us. She was eager for her first swimming lesson.”
“Yes, I know. However, she is still tired. Waiting up for Clement took a lot out of her.”
“Will she join us tomorrow?” Jordan prodded.
“I don’t know. That is entirely up to Gwendolyn.” This was the only honest answer James could provide his sons without giving more away. He was in no frame of mind to deal with questions that required detailed explanations.
Jordan nipped at his heels like an eager pup as they marched down the beach stairs all in a row. “Papa, you didn’t say something to anger or offend her, did you?”
“No, Jordan. I did not.” James set out their blanket, sank onto it to pull off his boots, and then shrugged out of his shirt while his sons did the same.
He could see they were still eager to press him for answers, so he wasted no time in diving into the water to avoid talking. He began to swim parallel to the beach, his strokes long and powerful so that his sons could not keep up.
There was nothing he could say to them about Gwendolyn that would allay their concerns.
After one turn across the cove, he looked over to his boys, who had not gone in yet and were at the water’s edge watching him. Robert looked about to cry.
James held out his arms to his sons. “Who’s going to swim with me?”
Of course, both boys dove in to join him.
They had only been in the water about half an hour playing their usual games when Fiona rowed over from her side of the beach. “I’ve just heard the news!”
Blast. How in blazes had she learned of Clement’s letter so fast?
Perhaps Agatha or one of his own servants had shot through the woods to advise her. Likely Agatha, but Harting must have heard Gwen going on about the letter while they stood at the study door.
Not that it mattered who had told Fiona. He was concerned she was now going to interfere and make things worse.
“What news?” Jordan asked, his ears immediately perking.
“Nothing,” James growled. “Go home, Fiona. Stop meddling.”
“I will not. We need to prepare a battle plan.”
“Why must we prepare a battle plan, Papa?” Robert asked, his eyes rounding in alarm.
James gave his son a comforting pat on the shoulder. “We needn’t. Fiona is merely worrying over nothing.”
“It is not nothing. Is he here yet? Have you left her alone with him?” She frowned as she stared at him. “You mustn’t let him anywhere near her.”
“Who, Papa?” Robert was becoming overset. “Is Gwendolyn in any danger? We must protect her.”
James took his son into his arms. “She’s in no danger. Do you think I would ever allow anything bad to happen to her? She’s expecting the visit of a friend this evening, that’s all.”
Fiona snorted in disgust. “He isn’t a friend, he’s a louse. The man is underhanded, self-absorbed, thinks he can just stroll in here and resume their betrothal after ten years of neglect. What if Gwendolyn falls for his lies?”
“She won’t,” James shot back, and then sighed. “I hope she won’t. But it is her decision to make, isn’t it?”
“You mean her mistake to make, which she might do if you leave her to face him on her own.” Fiona rowed her boat to the shore and motioned for the boys to help pull it up onto the sand. “I’ll retrieve it tomorrow. Jordan, haul it securely onto the beach and away from the water.”
“I’ll help,” Rob said, and both boys eagerly did as she asked.
“Thank you, lads. Well done.” She cast James an impatient look. “You can keep out of this if you want, but I am going to talk sense into Gwendolyn.”
He growled in frustration.
Fiona was giving him no choice but to follow her.
His sons were obviously on her side and already drawing on their shirts and boots. Realizing he could not toss Durham’s wife back in her rowboat and order her to row home, he stopped resisting. “Wait, Fiona. I’ll come with you.”
“Me too.” Robert scampered beside him and took his hand. “Papa, what is happening? Why is Duchess Fiona so angry about Gwendolyn’s friend visiting her?”
“He isn’t just a friend,” Jordan replied. “He’s the man Gwendolyn was supposed to marry. We mustn’t let her do it or we’ll lose her.”
Robert’s face turned ashen and he began to cry. “No! Why would she leave us? We love her.”
James handed Jordan their blanket and took his youngest into his arms. “She does love us, but that doesn’t mean she cannot love someone else too.”
“Yes, it does,” Rob declared, his voice muffled, since his face was buried against James’s chest. “She is ours.”
“No, son. We cannot force her to go against the wishes of her heart or she’ll be unhappy. We don’t want to see Gwen unhappy, do we?”
Tears fell upon the lad’s cheeks. “Doesn’t her heart wish for us?”
James was known for keeping calm under all circumstances, but he felt his composure slipping and shot a glower at Fiona for forcing this situation on them. He had intended to gently ease his sons into this possibility should the need arise.
“Let’s hope it does,” Jordan muttered. “Papa, you should have kissed her. Why did you never kiss her or tell her how much we loved her?”
Fiona arched an eyebrow, tossing him a questioning look.
He frowned back at her. “Gwen knows how we feel about her, Jordan. Trust me, she is well aware.”
Both of Fiona’s eyebrows shot up and a slow smile crossed her face. No doubt she realized what his words meant.
Yes, he had kissed her.
Yes, he had laid his soul bare to Gwendolyn.
And yes, he might have even seen her naked and pleasured her multiple times.
Gad. His eyeballs were in spasms just thinking of it.
Fiona was now beaming. “I knew you would not fail me, Milbury.”
“Stop it,” he said with a soft growl.
Agatha was on the terrace, wringing her hands as she waited for them to approach the house. “Oh, m’lord. I was just coming to find you. I did not know what to do. He’s here. That horrible man marched in as though he owned the place, and they went off in his rig!”
“What? When?” James and Fiona responded in unison.
“About ten minutes ago.”
Robert resumed crying. “She’s left us! Oh, Papa! What are we to do?”
“Did she take anything with her?” James asked, his mind racing as he tried to make a logical plan.
“Do you mean pack her clothes? Why, no,” Agatha replied. “She merely said they were going for a short ride so that they might speak privately.”
James let out a breath. “That sounds like something Gwendolyn would say.”
Fiona wasn’t in the least relieved. “He purposely showed up early, no doubt to throw us all off. What if that cur abducts her? I know the workings of his devious mind.”
James grunted. “I’ll say you do.”
“I am not devious,” she insisted, “but I do understand how that sort of manipulative mind works. Do you think for a moment he accidentally showed up just when you were on the beach with your sons?”
“How could he know our routine or that Gwen would not come down with us?” James countered.
She regarded him with exasperation. “He’s obviously been asking about you, possibly following you.
He also knows Gwen very well. They grew up as children together.
He knows she holds everything inside, hates to show her feelings, and does not like anyone knowing her business.
Which is why he knew that he could draw her away from your home on the pretext of just talking. ”
“I’ll saddle my horse,” James said, cursing himself for leaving Gwendolyn alone even for a moment. But he’d been so worried about being overbearing and scaring her off that he had allowed this to happen.
“I’ll come with you, Papa,” Jordan volunteered.
“No, son. She won’t appreciate an army riding down on her.” Nor appreciate that James followed her as though he did not trust her to make the right decision. But his sons were not going to allow him to wait here with them.
Well, to bloody blazes about showing Gwendolyn he trusted her. She had to know he had complete faith in her. It was Clement that he did not trust as far as he could spit.
“Agatha, do you know where they were headed?”
“No, m’lord,” the maid said, her chin wobbling. “I only saw that they were riding down the long drive. After that, I could not tell whether they turned right or left.”
“I’ll catch up to them. They couldn’t have gone far.”
He was about to turn to his sons, wanting to assure his youngest especially that Gwendolyn was not going to leave them. But how could he give any such assurances?
He turned to Fiona instead. “Take care of them while I’m gone.”
It seemed like forever before his horse was brought around, but could not have been more than a few minutes.
Precious minutes.
He mounted his bay stallion, a monster of a horse that was built for strength and endurance, named Romeo. He had purchased him as a colt and never bothered to change the name his prior owner had given him.
In truth, Romeo looked fierce, but he was gentle and obedient, more of a lover than a fighter.
James came upon one of his gardeners trimming the hedges near the Milbury Hill gate. “Hawes, have you seen Lady Gwendolyn and her companion pass by here in a rig?”
Hawes tipped his hat. “Aye, yer lordship. Not five minutes ago.”
“Which way did they turn?”
His gardener pointed in the direction of Brighton.
James thanked him and raced off, knowing Romeo would soon catch up to them.
To his surprise, it took longer than expected to come upon the rig. Clement must have worked his horse to a lather to get as far away from Milbury Hill as possible.
James was fuming by the time he reached them.
The rig was off to the side of the road, the horse grazing in the shade of a copse of trees beside a stream that was not very wide but flowed toward the English Channel on a steady current.
Gwen was standing on its grassy bank, her expression unreadable while Clement, a big, blond-haired man, was speaking intently to her. In fact, so intently that neither of them noticed James’s approach.