Chapter 3 #3
I would not dare ask him, she thought to herself. She did not know how he would react, and she was still not sure if she could even trust him.
“You’re awake enough to speak,” Duncan said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “So answer one more thing.”
She waited for him to continue on.
“Who was the last person you spoke to before you lost consciousness?”
“Why are you asking me that?” she said. But her mind flashed back to her last day at the estate.
Her uncle had arrived at the end of the mourning period, and she had her meeting with him and his son.
She had avoided her sisters afterwards and excused herself to bed early.
So that meant that the last person she spoke to…
properly anyway, and who wasn’t a part of her immediate sibling family was… .
Robert.
“It was my cousin,” she said.
“Which cousin?” Duncan’s eyes narrowed.
“Robert Mowatt.”
Duncan’s expression shifted immediately into something hard, “That’s your kidnapper,” he said.
“No,” she snapped, surprised at her own anger. “No, he is not.”
“You spoke to him last,” he said as though he was pointing out the obvious. “You were drugged by him, I guess.”
“You don’t know anything about him, and nor can you accuse someone just because it suits your logic.
” She did not know why she was defending Robert of all people, but he had not seemed as cruel as her uncle.
Though, of course, she had no way of truly knowing.
But then, neither did the duke and he was acting very sure of himself.
“Men do worse things than you want to believe,” he said.
“Robert is not a monster,” she snapped. “He’s a coward when it comes to his father. But he is not the sort of man who would drug me and drag me across the border, surely.”
There was a flicker in the duke’s expression at her defense of Robert, though Charity did not want to read too much into it.
“Cowardice and cruelty aren’t opposites,” he said. “Sometimes they go together.”
“You are speaking as though you understand my life,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “Why is this when you do not even know me?”
“You’re defensive.”
“Yes,” Charity shot back. “Because you’re accusing someone without knowing anything.”
Duncan didn’t respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on her, and Charity realized with a sharp twist that she cared what he thought, at least enough to be angry that he was looking at her as if she were na?ve.
The realization itself irritated her.
I barely know him, and he is only a strange nuisance.
“Your Grace,” Charity said, composing herself, “I would advise you not to concoct stories without having any clue of what the reality is.”
Duncan’s eyes went colder. And Charity hated that a small part of her felt disappointed by it, as if she’d wanted to see something else there instead of that hard look.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but Duncan interrupted her.
“Enough,” he said, “You don’t like what I said, sure. It doesn’t change the fact that you were drugged and moved, and the person you spoke to last is a reasonable suspect until proven otherwise.”
“This doesn’t matter,” Duncan said, standing up. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll send you on your way back to England.”
“Tomorrow?” Yes, that is exactly what she had wanted. Though it surprised her that there was a strange and unexpected disappointment. She brushed it off as soon as it came; surely it was just a wayward thought that did not need to be acknowledged.
“You’ll have a horse, provisions, and an escort as far as the main road.”
“You’re just letting me go,” she said, suspicion creeping into her tone now, “That’s it?”
Duncan raised an eyebrow at her.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Whatever has happened to you, it isn’t my doing,” he brushed her off.
Charity stared at him, mind racing. She wanted to demand it in writing. How can I possibly trust him? But she was too tired for that.
“Fine,” she said, “Then I’ll leave tomorrow.”
Duncan nodded once, and then he turned toward the door.
“Wait,” she called again, surprising herself. This time, her words came out a lot more desperate.
Duncan paused but didn’t turn back. “What?”
“If you’re not the one who did this, then what happens when I leave? What happens if the person who drugged me tries again?”
“Then you’ll be smarter than you were the first time,” he said. “You’ll watch what you eat, what you drink, who you speak to, and where you sleep.”
“That’s your advice?” she snapped. Of course, he did not owe her anything, so she did not understand why his reaction made her so upset.
“It’s practical advice,” Duncan replied, unmoved and left without saying another word.
Charity lay there, the cover still heavy on her shoulders, staring at the place he’d been standing. Her pulse was still racing. She closed her eyes for a moment and forced herself to breathe.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would go back.
Back to Augusta and Matilda. Back to the life waiting for her in York. But one thought wouldn’t leave her alone:
Duncan had accused Robert so quickly, as if he’d seen this kind of thing before.
Charity didn’t know what to do with that.