Chapter 28

28

When Nathaniel could seethe roofs of Kelford village, his chest squeezed with the pain of memories. This was where he’d spent most of his childhood; every tree and every bush was familiar. He’d come here with his mama to visit the tenants, bringing treats from the kitchen and inquiring about everyone’s health and well-being. Mama liked to organize village fairs and games, and he’d enjoyed playing with the village children.

The Tuesday afternoon sun was slowly sinking, coloring the sky in oranges, reds, and violets. Calliope’s face was cold and distant, her fury with him understandable and yet as painful as a knife in his heart.

He knew he was hurting her. He knew he was making her hate him. He knew he was going against everything that she was.

But he couldn’t help himself.

What had happened to Poppy and Violet was bad enough.

Last night was the last straw. It was as though every single thread of strength that he had to control himself, to try to overcome his terror at the thought of losing her, snapped and was gone. And he could no longer force himself to go against his instincts.

The reason was one word.

Pregnant.

He couldn’t have known that he would fall in love with his wife. He couldn’t have known he’d want this baby like he wanted nothing else in his whole life. That the thought of a small human being that was part her and part him would bring this feeling that was close to benediction. As though he had touched something divine with his big, unworthy fingers.

But he knew one thing.

A wife who would despise him her whole life was better than a dead one.

Sleuth agency…he scoffed inwardly as he watched the new footman open the carriage door.

Why was he surprised? It was so like Calliope. Admirable. Honorable. Courageous. Smart.

And absolutely mad.

He descended to the dirt road. Streets meandered through rows of quaint stone houses with thatched roofs, their chimneys releasing tendrils of smoke that melded with the evening mist. Crimson and pink geraniums spilled from window boxes and sills. The distant hum of village life—the laughter of children playing, the clinking of glasses from the local tavern, the soft conversations of neighbors—created a tranquil backdrop.

Nathaniel turned to his wife. Auburn curls spilled down, framing her face under her bonnet as her eyes blazed with fury. Her cheeks were red and her lips tight and thin.

He hated himself for doing this to her. But sixty miles away from London would be the safest place for her.

At one point, a gig had started following them from London, but he and his footmen had stopped and descended, telling Calliope to stay in the carriage. As they’d walked towards the gig, the driver had jumped down and run away, after which Nathaniel and the lads had broken the wheels of the carriage with axes.

No one had followed them since.

“Come on, Calliope,” he said as he stretched out his hand to her. “We’re here.”

She sneered. “In my prison, you mean?”

“No. It’s not a prison. I’ll put you in the home of the housekeeper of Kelford Manor. It’s a safe place no one will look for you.”

She laid her hand in his and descended, looking around. “What about the manor itself?”

“It’s locked in the will,” he said as they walked towards a small redbrick cottage. “I can’t touch it until the heir or the heiress is born before my next birthday, but I know the housekeeper will take you in as a favor to me.”

“Nathaniel—” she started as they stopped before a low door.

“Don’t,” he said. “There will be no more discussion.”

Sleuth agency…he thought again. He couldn’t imagine living in terror every day while his wife went out and put herself in danger. He’d lock her in here for the rest of her life if he had to. The very thought that he could now lose both her and the baby was like death to him.

He couldn’t lose them like he’d lost his mother. He just couldn’t.

“How long are we going to be here for, then?” asked Calliope.

The coldness in her words drained the color from the picturesque world around him, making the charming village appear bleak and desolate.

He knocked and the door opened. Mr. Howitt, the housekeeper’s husband, opened the door. He was of medium height but with a stout, solid build. Sparse strands of silver hair lay combed back, revealing a receding hairline. And deep-set gray eyes under bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows assessed Nathaniel with caution that shifted to recognition.

“Your Grace?” Mr. Howitt asked, frowning. “Goodness, I haven’t seen you for so long! Please, come in.”

He led them through a short hallway into the small sitting room. Mrs. Howitt hurried from their dining room, still chewing. Mrs. Howitt was of slender build, slightly shorter than her spouse, with a graceful posture cultivated from years of managing a household. Her face was framed by waves of soft gray hair tied back in a neat bun, and her bright blue eyes bore the gentle weariness of age. She wore a simple yet tidy blue dress, its faded fabric showing signs of frequent washings and impeccable mending.

“Your Grace!” she said with a warm smile. “Forgive me, we were just having dinner. What can we do for you? Are you back?”

“I’m afraid not yet,” he said. “But this is my wife, Calliope, the Duchess of Kelford. I was wondering if she could stay with you here.”

“Whatever do you mean, she can stay?” asked Calliope, staring at him. “Are you leaving me?”

He didn’t reply, couldn’t face the hurt in her voice. Of course he wanted to stay with her, knowing it may be months before he’d see her again. He wanted nothing more than to see her grow round with the life inside her, see her glow, feel that first kick, hear her talk about the baby and what she felt, and wait for it to arrive together.

And keep her safe.

But he couldn’t stay. His sisters needed him. Besides, the sooner he found Spencer, the sooner she’d be safe.

“Please, will you take care of the duchess while I’m away?” he asked.

He couldn’t look her in the eye knowing how much she must hate him for taking her freedom and independence away from her. If he saw that hatred in her eyes, it would shatter his heart.

“Of course we will,” said Mrs. Howitt. “But wouldn’t it be quite…modest here for a duchess? Your Grace, would you be comfortable?”

“I don’t mind the discomfort,” said Calliope. “I’m sure this will be perfectly pleasant. Especially since His Grace won’t keep me here for long…will he?” she asked him icily.

“I don’t know how long the investigation will take,” he replied, staring at the small watercolor of Kelford Manor hanging on the wall. “I will go and see that man at Portside tomorrow. I will return to you once I find your brother.”

“Nathaniel!” she cried, her voice ringing with indignation and hurt.

“Keep her here, Mrs. Howitt,” he said. “Do not let her out of your sight. Abigail, Her Grace’s maid, will stay with her. If you could find them both a room, I’d be most appreciative. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Then he finally had the courage to face her. He looked into her beautiful eyes for a long time, aching to take the woman he loved into his arms and kiss her. The thought of leaving her tore at his heart. He hadn’t spent a day apart from her for three weeks now, and had thought he’d spend the rest of his life with her like that.

But he knew if he did take her into his arms, he wouldn’t be able to leave her.

And he must leave.

Feeling like he had to physically tear himself away from her, he turned around and left the house. Her footsteps sounded after him, and he accelerated, running to the carriage like a madman. As though chased by death, he climbed into the carriage and shut the door, yelling for the coachman to drive.

In the descending twilight, he didn’t even look at her from the window. His heart was shattered. He hated to leave Calliope there like that, trapped, against her will, but he had no other ideas of how to keep her safe…her and the baby.

She was right. She was too fearless and independent, and had she stayed in London, she would still go investigating and putting herself in danger the second his back was turned.

The most important things in life for him now were her, the baby, and his sisters.

His family.

And he would destroy his own happiness to protect them.