Chapter 9
His ride to Newfincy Castle had been frantic and heart-pounding. Part of him had known Matthew had been taken, and the rest of him had been trying to drown out that certainty with the hope that his son had merely run away to be with his closest friend.
Now it appeared as if neither of those scenarios was true, and while he still didn’t have answers, at least he was feeling calmer.
And that was completely due to the woman who currently had her arms wrapped around him.
His gelding had been waiting patiently for him beside Newfincy Castle’s front steps, and as he’d hurried out with Athena at his side, she’d surprised him by heading for the animal instead of for the stables, or ordering a carriage to be brought around.
When Cash had hesitated, she’d cocked her head at him.
“This laddie looks strong enough to carry us both swiftly, aye? Unless ye want to waste the time waiting for another to be saddled for me?”
It was the hint of challenge in her voice which convinced him. If she was going to doubt him—or his horse—then, by God, he’d show her!
But when he offered her his hand, and she swung up behind him and settled against him, her breasts pressed against his back and her arms looping around him, he wondered who the loser was in this scenario.
Certainly not him.
So, yes. This strange calmness which had settled over his shoulders, despite not knowing where Matthew was, was all thanks to Athena and the way her cheek was pressed against his back as the gelding galloped for Dumpkins.
He was a duke, for God’s sake, not some stable lad! He wasn’t supposed to run pell-mell across the land, especially with a lady—an earl’s daughter specifically—perched behind him wearing naught but a walking gown!
But on the other hand, he wasn’t supposed to take time each day to go swimming with his heir and the woman who made him feel happy.
And he damn well wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.
But Cash was smart enough—and brave enough—to admit that’s exactly what had happened.
He’d gone and fallen in love with Lady Athena Oliphant, and her adorable, invigorating, frustrating son.
Instead of alarm, the acceptance—because it was a conclusion he’d been working toward over the last few days, ever since she’d left him alone in the garden last Friday eve—settled around him like a warm cloak, as comforting as her arms.
He loved Athena.
He loved her freedom, her informality, her joy. He loved the way she lived her life unapologetically, and he wanted to do that too, not just with her, but he wanted to be part of the life she lived. He wanted her in his bed, aye, but more than that.
He wanted to sit across from her at breakfast and argue about the latest edition of the Times.
He wanted her on his arm, shocking all of Society with her outspoken support of worthy causes.
He wanted her in his arms as they took their lads swimming and fishing and riding, and all the things normal, non-ducal fathers did with their children.
He wanted her to remind him how to be Cash, the man, instead of Cashard, the duke.
But not Adolphus.
The thought had him smiling as he pulled the gelding to a stop in front of the portico at Dumpkins Manor, and when he swung her down, she noticed.
Her brow twitched upward. “Ye are looking pleased?”
He didn’t release her hand. “I’ve come to a rather important realization.”
Her expression softened, and she squeezed his hand. “That we will find the lads? We will, ye ken. They are safe.”
Her certainty made him accept this, even without knowing where Matthew and Callan were.
“You’re right,” he murmured as he tugged her up the front steps. “They’re in here somewhere. I’m just sorry…”
“What?” she prompted when he trailed off.
He pulled her to a stop before the grand entrance and exhaled as he tilted his head back to stare up at the grand edifice, built to be imposing.
“This isn’t how I’d imagined showing you my suite of rooms at Dumpkins,” he said softly, his lips quirking ruefully.
“Och, aye? So ye had plans?”
“Athena,” he sighed, finally meeting her eyes, “I had all sorts of plans.”
“I remember.”
I was going to ask you to be my mistress.
I would have agreed.
The words hammered in his memory, as they had so often over the last days.
At first, he’d been certain her response had been the reason why he couldn’t form any further connection with her.
But now he was beginning to realize the challenge in those words—I would have agreed—were what made him love her.
Society would consider her the wrong kind of duchess.
But he didn’t give a fig.
He loved her because she was the wrong kind of duchess.
No. She’s exactly the right kind of duchess. For me.
Before he could say more, the front door swung open, the Dumpkins butler looking more than a little relieved. The older man stepped out of the way as Cash pulled Athena inside.
“Your Grace, I believe Mrs. McLaughlin has found a new clue.”
Cash nodded, the reminder of his son’s current predicament dragging his attention away from future possibilities. He hoped the butler’s announcement meant Athena’s theory was correct, and the lads really were at Dumpkins. “Upstairs?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Your Grace. He was surrounded by people who knew him as the Duke of Cashard, but Athena had called him, “Yer Grease.” The thought had him smiling as the pair of them hurried—her hand still in his—up the stairs.
“Your Grace!” The plump housekeeper waved as she hurried toward him. “Oh, Your Grace. Thank goodness—” She skidded to a stop and cocked her head at him. “Are you feeling well? Did you find the poor lad?”
He realized she was referring to his smile. Was he really that somber of a man?
He squeezed Athena’s hand, knowing anyone who could call him DisGrace during an argument was someone who would always make him smile.
“We haven’t found him, but we have some new clues. As do you, so I’ve been told?”
Mrs. McLaughlin nodded hurriedly and thrust a hand into her apron pocket. When she pulled out what appeared to be an ancient scroll, Athena let out a relieved gasp and reached for it.
The woman took an alarmed step back, but Athena managed to grab the scroll after all.
“This is from my father’s collection, I am certain of it!
The two of us have been building a library of Oliphant history from the dark ages, and this was one that Da said had turned up missing after Callan’s filching. ”
Cash’s fingers hovered over the scroll, not wanting to damage it. “Why would a young lad care about medieval history?”
“It is his history.” Athena looked up at him with something like pleading in her hazel gaze.
“Da and I have been buying up what we can, because Oliphant history is the only family history Callan will have. And we have told him that—told him that one day he will read it all and understand his family’s past! ”
The only family Callan will have. Because the lad was a bastard, and the Oliphant name was the only one he would bear?
But Cash personally thought Callan Merritt had a nice ring to it.
“If you’re certain this is from the Oliphant collection, then it’s a valuable clue,” he told Athena.
She gave a relieved sigh before jerking her attention back to Mrs. McLaughlin. “Where did ye find this?”
The housekeeper was glancing between the pair of them, as if startled to be addressed by a lady she hadn’t been introduced to. But when Cash made no attempt to correct the situation, she blinked and pointed. “On—on the way up to the third floor.”
The servants’ quarters!
“Come,” Cash barked.
Athena barely had time to thrust the scroll toward Mrs. McLaughlin and plead, “Please return it to my father’s estate—gently!” before Cash took her hand and pulled her toward the small staircase at the end of the corridor.
Together, they thundered up the stairs, but at the top, Cash pulled to a stop. Here, the hallway was smaller and the doors closer together. Faces—maids and footmen, dragooned into the search—stopped to peer at him.
“Have you found anything else?” he almost shouted; sure they’d understand what he was referring to.
Heads were shaking in denial when one young maid spoke up from the other end of the corridor.
“Here, Your Grace.” She lifted a small pillow. “I found this—”
Athena pulled him down the corridor. “Nae one recognizes it?”
The young maid tried to curtsey and hand Athena the pillow all at once, and ended up tipping sideways before Cash righted her. It was obvious she was flustered over how odd it was for a strange lady like Athena to be wandering around the servants’ quarters at Dumpkins.
With a duke, for that matter.
Athena was peering at the pillow, and the maid shook her head, attempting another curtsey. “No, milady, Your Grace. I asked, and no one recognizes it. It’s not from any of the parlors, either.”
Athena nodded firmly. “Show us where ye found these, and call off the hunt.”
Cash’s brows rose. “Explain,” he demanded.
“Do ye no’ see?” Athena rounded on him, waving the pillow as if it would help make her point. “Callan stole the scroll from my father’s collection, the pillows from our parlor, and the spectacles from Olive!”
He reached for her, turning her to face him with his hands on her upper arms. “What does that have to do with the hunt for the lads?”
“If the pair of them are together, up to something…”
She blew out a breath and shook her head, and for the first time, he noticed her hair had come out of its simple coiffure sometime on the ride from her estate.
No wonder the butler and housekeeper had stared at her in such surprise!
But Cash didn’t mind. He much preferred her looking like this to that ghastly, wonderful picture of a lady she’d presented at Friday’s ball.
“Yes?” he prompted.
“If they are up to something, something to do with these things Callan’s been stealing, then these things were left for us to find. Matthew is a bright lad, Cash. He would ken I could recognize the things Callan has stolen.”