Chapter Thirty
The inn in which her parents were supposedly staying was not a long ride from the main house, but the journey there seemed to take forever.
Freddie and Tobias were grim-faced, the other men who had accompanied them equally so.
It had been decided that Edward and Christopher would stay at Glanmore Park in case Grace’s parents sent people to take Charlotte from them there.
Neither man had been happy to be left behind, but Tobias had been in a mood that left no room for arguing.
The man next to her wasn’t the same man who had brushed his fingers through the long strands of her hair and described it as golden.
But he also wasn’t the same man who had glowered at the edge of the ballroom, not engaging in social niceties.
He was fire and brimstone and retribution.
They rode together in his phaeton, the wind whipping at her bonnet with such force, she pressed a hand to the top of her head to stop it from flying off.
Neither of them spoke. Tobias’ hard-edged jaw did not invite comment.
Fragments of thought were whispering through her brain: the potential reaction of her parents to seeing her, what the brothers would do to the people who had caused Sebastian’s death and, after this, whether things would ever be the same between her and Tobias.
She could not keep her focus on any of them, not when they were moving so quickly.
The nearest village was a warren of narrow streets, flanked by grey stone houses.
The inn sat next to a river, which ran through the heart of the place.
Grace had never been in it, but it looked clean and neat, with a garden full of flowers and herbs to the right of it.
A stable for the inn was to the left, but Tobias did not bother with it, handing control of the horses to two of the men he had brought along for that express purpose.
The taproom was warm and smoky, dimly lit even though it was still daylight outside.
Once Tobias stepped inside, it did not take long for conversation to die.
Grace, who was standing directly behind him, saw all eyes turn to take him in.
While some men stood when they realised who had entered their space, others were too shocked by his arrival to move.
The innkeeper gathered his wits first and hurried towards them, wringing his hands. ‘How may I be of service, Your Grace?’
Tobias’ slight pause, the quick intake of breath before he spoke, was only noticeable to Grace.
Knowing how hard it was for him to speak in a stressful situation, she stepped a little closer to him, offering her silent support.
‘I understand you have two Americans staying with you,’ said Tobias.
‘Be a good man and direct me to where they are right now.’
The innkeeper licked his top lip. ‘I have two guests who fit that description. They are taking dinner in the parlour, Your Grace,’ he replied, not making the slightest attempt to protect the privacy of his patrons. ‘It is the second door on the left.’
Tobias nodded his thanks to the man and swept through the inn like an avenging angel, entering the narrow passageway with no thought to his own safety.
Grace hurried after him, flanked by Freddie and two of Tobias’ men.
The others, she knew, were surrounding the inn, cutting off exit points and hunting for the men her parents had brought with them.
Without knocking, Tobias strode into the parlour, Grace just behind him, before coming to a dead stop.
Her parents were sitting at a small table, her mother sipping a glass of wine, her father cutting into the thick crust of a pie.
The scene was so ordinary and domestic, it was hard to imagine these two older people, who were enjoying a meal together, were responsible for chaos and gut-wrenching pain.
Seeing them shouldn’t have been a shock, but somehow it kicked the breath out of her lungs, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Her father had gained weight since she had seen him last, his stomach protruding over his neatly cut pantaloons, giving him an avuncular look. Her mother, with her grey hair neatly pinned back, could have been anyone’s grandmother.
It was her mother who recovered first from the unexpected intrusion. Ignoring Tobias’ towering presence, she stood, holding out her arms and saying, ‘Grace, how wonderful to see you.’
If Grace hadn’t been subjected to a childhood where her mother frequently put on displays of maternal affection in front of others, she might have believed this gesture was genuine.
‘Mother,’ was all she said in response.
Undaunted by Grace’s lack of warmth, her mother proceeded towards her. Grace may have let her near, but before her mother could reach her, Tobias blocked her path.
‘That is far enough, Mrs Ashby.’
Her mother’s tinkling, false laugh echoed around the room. ‘She is my daughter.’
‘You lost the right to call her that when you had your other daughter killed.’
Grace wasn’t the only one who gasped. She had expected Tobias to tiptoe around the subject, to get them to confess or at least hint at what they had done, but he had gone straight to the point.
Once again, her mother pulled herself together quickest. ‘Oh, Grace. Have you become overset again? The death of our dear Clare did upset us all terribly, but it seems to have…’ Her mother trailed off, not explicitly saying that the death had addled Grace’s mind, but certainly alluding to it; a trick her mother had used effectively before.
Indeed, when Grace was a small child, she had believed her mother when she told her she was imagining things.
Well, not any more. There was too much evidence of her parents’ guilt.
Before Grace had the chance to speak, to counter the lie she was insinuating, her mother continued.
‘Do I have the pleasure of speaking with the Duke of Glanmore?’
‘It is His Grace, the Duke of Glanmore,’ said Tobias, correcting her in his most condescending tone. ‘And there is nothing pleasurable about this meeting.’
‘How like your brother Sebastian you are.’
‘Never,’ said Tobias, taking a step forward, ‘speak his name again.’
Her mother finally seemed to grasp that this conversation was not going how she had hoped. She took several steps backwards.
‘Now, see here,’ said her father, standing and putting his arms on his wife’s shoulders.
‘There is no need to speak to us like that. We lost a daughter and it was your brother who was driving the carriage at the time. Her death devastated us, but we do not blame him. We have travelled here in good faith to meet with you and yet you barged in here in a very threatening manner. I had expected better from the English aristocracy, I must say.’
It was an exceptionally convincing show. Her mother’s eyes were round, wounded, her father puffed up in indignation.
‘What brings you to this part of the world?’ said Tobias icily. ‘A friendly visit? Or did you come to find Charlotte?’
‘Is our beloved granddaughter here?’ said her mother, one thin hand fluttering to her neck. Grace’s stomach turned over at the display. ‘Oh, I should love to see her. It has been too long and she is our only connection to…’
‘I shall take that as confirmation you have come to see her,’ said Tobias, breaking into her speech.
‘Where are the rest of the men you brought with you? And your answer had better not be that they are heading towards Glanmore Park. I have left my groundsmen with the instructions to shoot intruders on sight.’
What colour remained in her parents’ faces drained entirely. ‘Is this how you welcome guests?’
‘No. But it is how I address people who have orphaned my niece.’
Her father dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘If this is what Grace has told you, then you should know that she has a tendency to…’
Tobias took two steps towards them. He towered over her father, who was now turning a splotchy red.
‘Since I learned of my brother’s death, I have wanted to find the people responsible.
You cannot imagine the scenarios that have run through my head.
Sometimes, I have shocked myself by the level of violence of which I thought myself capable.
But you stand here before me and I feel sorry for you.
To have thrown two daughters and one granddaughter away in the pursuit of wealth is extraordinarily foolish.
To try and lie, to dismiss Grace, to try and pretend she is somehow lacking…
’ Tobias shook his head. ‘You are not worthy of my time and effort. You are pathetic.’
Her father lunged, his meaty hands reaching for Tobias. Grace glimpsed a flash of something metallic, before realising her father still held his knife. She had no time to shout a warning, no time to get between them, no time to stop her father from attacking the man she loved.
It wasn’t necessary anyway. Tobias moved, faster than she had ever seen him. There was a crash and a grunt, and Grace’s father was lying on the ground, his large stomach heaving.
‘Tie him up,’ said Tobias to his men, who rushed to do his bidding.
‘Freddie, go and see whether there is any news on the constable. Then get the men outside to do a thorough search for the people who have accompanied the Ashbys. We want to know what they have been told about the purpose of their trip and what their intentions are with regards to visiting Glanmore Park. Offer violence or money, whatever it takes to get them to talk.’
As her father was trussed up like a chicken, Tobias crouched down.
‘I have been worried about how to get justice for my brother, Mr Ashby. It will be very difficult to prove you had anything to do with the death of my brother and his wife, but fortunately for me, you just tried to attack a duke with a knife. Do you know what the punishment for attempted murder is in England, Mr Ashby?’
Her father squirmed in the men’s tight grip on him.
‘Grace,’ said her mother, real fear in her voice, ‘you cannot let this happen. We are your parents. We raised you. You know your father did not attempt to hurt the duke.’
‘He went at him with a knife,’ said Grace, unable to believe that, even now, her mother was trying to imply that they were innocent. ‘It was not just Tobias and me who saw it.’
‘Grace, do not be difficult. If you continue with this lie, your dear father will die and it will be your fault.’
For so long, Grace had lived under the rule of her parents.
She had been in equal parts afraid and cowed by them.
It was hard to believe that now. They were just people.
People who lied even when the truth was staring everyone else in the face.
Even when cornered, they were trying to make her doubt herself, but she was stronger now.
She had lived through much over the last two years, but it had been the support and acceptance she had received from the Dashworth family, and the man standing next to her, that had made her realise she was worthy of real love, just as Clare had been.
Tobias was right; her parents were pathetic. They had no hold over her.
‘If it is acceptable to you, Your Grace,’ she said to Tobias, not sparing another glance at the two people who were no longer part of her life, ‘I shall retire to another parlour until this is over. I do not wish to be in their presence any longer.’
‘Of course,’ said Tobias, straightening. ‘Allow me to come with you to speak with the innkeeper. I am sure it can be arranged.’
Without a backward glance at the woman who had birthed her, but never loved her, Grace left the room. Her old life was finally over. It was time to begin again.