Chapter Twenty

T he carriage and pair hired at the Blackhaven Hotel, carrying Alice, Cornelius, Aubrey, and Morgan, would not have halted so early in the pursuit had Alice not suddenly glimpsed a familiar figure striding furiously along the road in the same direction.

"It's Darcy Daubin," she exclaimed, turning to peer out of the back window. "He's waving at us. Quick, get the jarvey to halt…"

"For that creature?" Cornelius said contemptuously.

"Yes! Cornelius, what is he doing there ?"

Cornelius rapped on the ceiling, and Morgan, angry at the delay, glared from him to Alice.

Alice ignored him, watching Daubin run along the road toward him. His once-shiny boots and beautiful, light pantaloons were splashed with mud, and he was sweating with exertion by the time he stood gasping at the door, which Cornelius pushed open.

Daubin almost stopped breathing. His gaze flew from Cornelius to Alice and the other occupants of the carriage. When he saw Morgan, he let out a moan.

Cornelius reached down, grasped Daubin by the front of his coat, and hauled him into the carriage, depositing him on the floor among their legs and slamming the door.

"I never touched her!" Daubin screamed.

In rage, Morgan drew back his fist, but Aubrey caught his arm.

"Don't be an idiot," he advised. "We need to know what he does."

"It was a mistake! A genuine mistake," Daubin gabbled. "I mistook her identity and took the wrong lady!"

"From where?" Cornelius asked so softly that Alice barely heard him.

"From just outside the castle gates," Daubin muttered.

Cornelius's lip curled, his face so filled with icy contempt that, for the first time ever, Alice was afraid of him. "You were doing Atherstone's dirty work."

"I was not!" Daubin cried. "It is my greatest, fondest wish to call Lady Alice my wife. His Grace was helping me…" He let out a wail. "Or I thought he was! But he stopped the carriage and took her from me! He thought Lady Morgan was Lady Alice! She was veiled, which was how I mistook her in the first place."

Sir John rapped furiously on the ceiling, and the carriage set off again.

" Then ," Daubin cried in outrage, "my dashed coachman refused to follow the duke. He said it was more than his life was worth to disobey His Grace, and he was going back to Blackhaven. He left me standing in the road like a fool! And I have been a fool," he added hastily, under the glare of both Cornelius and Sir John. "I was so angry, I was determined to confront His Grace about betraying me—"

"His Grace betraying you ?" Cornelius said. "Not of your own behavior in trying to abduct one lady and instead endangering another? You really are a vile little worm, aren't you? I should throw you out the damned carriage!"

Alice caught his arm. "No, no, not yet. Sir, where will the duke take her? To Scotland?"

"He has no need to go to Scotland. He has a tame clergyman in tow. And a special license which he pretended was for me, but it is bound to have his name on it…" He cringed before the cold fury in Cornelius's face and the sudden start of Sir John. "He instructed his coachman to drive to the nearest inn. You might catch up with him there! After all, there is no point in his trying to marry Lady Morgan."

"There was no point in his trying to marry me, either," Alice said testily. "I am only nineteen, and he does not have my brother's permission."

"But he would get it," Cornelius said. "After the event, Braithwaite would not challenge the marriage because you were alone with him—or would have been. Look how he forced Helen to marry—"

"He doesn't have the earl's sister," Sir John interrupted. "He has my wife, and he is not going to be happy."

"No, he isn't," Cornelius agreed grimly. "We'd better look for them at the first posting inn…"

"Wait," Alice said. "He wouldn't have taken me anywhere I could be helped until I had spent enough time in his company to be truly compromised. Gervaise could have found out somehow and come after me. He would have hidden us away somewhere."

At the back of her mind, she was amazed at herself for thinking so logically. She might shudder at the thought of being in Atherstone's power—and she did shudder on poor Cecily's account—but she was not afraid. Because she was with Cornelius.

"He definitely said the inn ," Daubin said sulkily. "I heard him."

"Misleading us all?" Aubrey suggested.

"Or…" Cornelius frowned as though in remembrance. "The Goat and Shoe Inn !"

"I've never heard of it," Alice said, but Cornelius had already leaned out the window, yelling instructions to the coachman.

"You wouldn't," he said to her. "It's hardly the sort of house frequented by gentlemen, let alone ladies. But I surveyed as much of the country around Blackhaven as I could when I first came here. I found the Goat by accident, and I'm sure it subsists more on smugglers' bribes than hospitality."

"Would Atherstone really stop at such a place?" Aubrey asked.

"He might well if he wished no one to find him. Atherstone plays to win."

The carriage lurched off the road and along a track that was barely wide enough for it. Alice could easily imagine loaded horses and donkeys carrying barrels of wine and brandy along here on a dark night.

Ten minutes later, they only just saw the sign of the Goat, half hidden among overhanging trees. Barging past the furious slattern who tried to halt them at the door, Morgan went roaring up the stairs.

"Don't let him commit murder," Cornelius called over his shoulder to Aubrey. Alice had already seen the door off the empty common room and marched resolutely toward it.

Cornelius caught her hand and squeezed it before brushing past her and throwing open the door.

*

Without any further warning, Atherstone was yanked off Cecily and thrown across the room.

Cecily whispered, "Cornelius," between numb lips as she stared at the large, imposing man who suddenly filled the room with his presence. She did not remember him like that. He had changed and grown over the last two years, and even in her present circumstances, the sight of him thrilled her most oddly. Yet it also clarified that she had made the right choice, because she could never have controlled Cornelius Vale.

Oh, Cornelius … Tears started in her eyes. "Have you killed Jack?"

"Of course he has not killed Jack," Lady Alice— Lady Alice? —said scornfully as she brushed past Cornelius into the room. "He is searching upstairs and will be here directly."

By then Atherstone had risen to his feet, apparently unperturbed, and was brushing down his coat.

"Lady Alice," he drawled. "What a pleasure. Did you bring her to make a swap, Vale? Or am I to be left with both queens on the board?"

Cornelius did not deign to answer. Instead, he spoke to Cecily. "Come."

"Remain where you are," Atherstone warned her. "You know what a dangerous pastime it has become for you to rush to any man who calls. She has already been with Daubin and me. And the landlord, for all I know." He reached out casually to stop her, but Cornelius took one step forward, and the duke paused—perhaps from sheer surprise, perhaps because, like Cecily, he had suddenly realized that something in the man merited respect, or at least careful handling.

"All that good breeding," Cornelius marveled. "The ancient name and great title, and yet there you stand, not even a gentleman but an odious little commoner."

Cecily doubted anyone had ever spoken to His Grace like that in his life. Dull redness suffused his cheeks. His eyes lit with a strangely stunned fury.

From upstairs came a shriek and the sound of a young man's laughter. Cornelius's lips twitched with amusement, but his gaze did not leave the duke.

A clatter of footsteps sounded, and then Cecily's husband all but fell into the room.

Jack stood before her, glaring at the duke, breathing like a bull, all but pawing the ground. "You black-hearted, treacherous scoundrel!"

The duke recovered his urbanity. "My dear Morgan," he said, "if you cannot control your own wife's fancies…"

Jack's fists clenched even tighter. In an effort to head off trouble—Atherstone was still a powerful nobleman—Cecily cast herself into her husband's arms. "Oh, thank God, thank God! I didn't even know if you were alive or dead!"

"And yet," purred Atherstone, "here you are with me. Shall we tell your dear husband how willingly you walked into my carriage? Or will we let my chaplain break the news?"

It was sheer malice on Atherstone's part, lashing out to make someone suffer because he had failed to catch his prize Lady Alice, who stood now at the side of the unexpectedly splendid Cornelius Vale. She looked proud and astonishingly beautiful, her eyes sparkling with indignation.

"I came to warn you," Cecily blurted.

Alice flashed her a smile. "I know. But His Grace used Mr. Daubin to do his dirty work—I imagine so that no one could ever point an accusing finger at him, and also so that he could play the hero and rescue me. He had already paved the way by trying to pretend to me he was not nearly as black-hearted as he is. It was very kind and brave of you."

"It was," Cornelius agreed, and Cecily almost preened, only Jack was holding her too tightly, and that was loveliest of all.

Until, over Jack's shoulder, a slight movement in the gloomy doorway caught her eye.

"Cornelius!" she screamed, but it was too late.

The arm of Atherstone's villainous coachman had snaked around Alice's neck, yanking her away from Cornelius. A gleaming knife was held to her throat.

*

It happened so suddenly that Alice had no idea who held her, or what the cold, sharp thing prickling at her skin was. Uncomprehending, she gazed at Cornelius, who was suddenly white, his eyes desperate.

The duke laughed. "Well done, Johnson. Take Lady Alice and Jones to the carriage. I will join you directly." He smiled mockingly around the stunned company. "I believe no one will disagree."

Alice, furious that victory had been so abruptly snatched away, forgot to be afraid. She wanted to scream. Instead, she elbowed her captor so sharply in the ribs that he grunted. Of course he would not kill her! His master intended to marry her!

She stamped on his foot and kicked her heel back into his shin, and then there was a mighty crash, an instant of stillness, and then Johnson's arm loosened as he slid to the floor.

Cornelius snatched her out of the way of his falling body, unable to speak as he hugged her to him.

Aubrey, left holding only the handle of the heavy earthenware water jug he had broken over the coachman's head, looked pleased with himself.

"Always there at the right moment," he said. "I should be promoted to head of the family. Do we want to go now? Or bury His Grace first?"

To his credit—maybe—the duke did not look remotely afraid. In fact, his voice was almost bored as he strolled toward the window. "Quite the turning wheel of fortune," he sneered, gazing through the grubby glass. "Though it appears more of a farce. You weary me, and may…" He paused and then began to laugh softly. "How priceless. I believe I have won after all."

"Why?" Morgan growled. "Have you brought in another coach-load of thugs?"

"Far from it, my dear fellow. Merely an earl, and I didn't bring him."

"Vale sent for Braithwaite," Morgan told his wife.

Alice knew she should leave Cornelius's arms, but it felt so sweet to be held like this. Perhaps just one more moment…

"How very thoughtful of you, Vale," Atherstone continued. "You have just won me the game… Braithwaite, most timely. My lady, I am so sorry to greet you in such squalid surroundings."

Gervaise and Eleanor had indeed swept into the room. At the sight of so many people, they both stopped dead.

"Unhand my sister, sir!" Gervaise snapped, glaring at Cornelius, whose arms had already loosened. Alice's tightened for a moment, then she took his hand instead, and his fingers closed around hers, reassuring and wonderful.

At his haughtiest, Gervaise was all but looking down his nose. "I would not have believed this from a member of your family."

"What, that we have just rescued Lady Morgan from a wicked abductor?" Aubrey said innocently. "I have to say, Lady Alice is brave as a lion."

Gervaise blinked, disconcerted. "What?" He pulled himself together while Eleanor's perceptive, anxious gaze swept over Alice. Gervaise took a deep breath. "We are here because of some garbled story from your twin siblings, who were very anxious for us not to believe Alice had been abducted by Cornelius Vale."

"Which, of course, is exactly what you did think!" Alice said furiously. In her agitation, she almost pulled free of Cornelius's hand, then changed her mind and clung all the harder. " No one abducted me."

"Sadly, she is trying to protect her seducer," the duke said. "Shall I take him outside and thrash him?"

"Try," Aubrey said with taunting amusement.

"What has happened?" Gervaise demanded.

Alice tumbled into speech at the same time as Atherstone. Maddeningly, Gervaise held up his hand to silence his sister, who glared at him with outrage.

"I was warned by my chaplain," Atherstone said smoothly, "of Vale's designs upon Lady Alice. Seeing how well his brother had done in similar circumstances with Lady Helen—"

"The circumstances are not remotely similar!" Alice exploded. "And what do you know of the matter anyway?"

Atherstone shrugged elegantly. "People talk. I infer, I confess. At any rate, warned by my Mr. Jones, as I have said, I pursued the pair here. I found them by luck, though I cannot swear I was in time. I found them, I am afraid, in here, quite…disarrayed. Of course, I called my man to deal with him—that's him at your feet," he added. "The other Vale hit him to aid his brother."

Everyone gazed at him.

"Take a bow," Cornelius muttered, "you contemptible—"

Alice tugged his hand to silence him. "If that is the tale everyone believes, then I had better marry Cornelius," she said blithely.

"Oh, well countered, Alice," Eleanor murmured.

"No brother," Atherstone said witheringly, "would by choice marry his sister to such a man. Braithwaite, you are already aware of my honest desire to marry Lady Alice. I would still make her my duchess, if you would allow it. In fact, the matter may be dealt with in minutes. In the hope of her, I obtained a special license some weeks ago."

Again, everyone stared at the duke.

"Counter that," Aubrey murmured to his brother. "Please."

"He doesn't need to," Alice said in a suddenly cold voice. "I will not marry the Duke of Atherstone, and neither he nor you, Gervaise, will force me into it. I am not Helen, and I am not influenced by threats of ruin to my family. No one here will breathe a word of this. Even Atherstone, since, without the bridal prize, he just appears a fool and loses your respect and alliance."

"Alice, wait in the carriage," Gervaise commanded.

"I will, if Cornelius escorts me," Alice said, refusing to be dismissed like a naughty schoolroom miss. "And so that there is no misunderstanding, know that the only man I shall ever marry is Cornelius Vale."

"You'll notice he has not offered!" Gervaise snapped.

"He cannot get a word in," Alice retorted. "And if he no longer wishes to marry me, then I will marry no one. Ever."

Instantly, Cornelius dragged her hand to his mouth. "Of course I want to marry you," he said hoarsely. "I will wait for you as long as I have to."

"My lord," said Eleanor, who never called her husband that, "I believe this is one of those occasions when you must listen to the family you know, not the strangers you do not."

Gervaise's distracted gaze met hers, then shifted to Alice. "Why him?" he barked.

"I don't know," Alice whispered. "I love him. It's as if I loved him even before I met him, and now that I have, it only grows deeper and sweeter, like music that swells and swells and never stops…"

Cornelius, smiling in wonder, touched her cheek.

Aubrey whistled.

The duke said, "I believe I am going to be sick."

"Best clear off, then," Gervaise said. "For the ladies' sake. For my own, I never cared to be in the same room as a man who tells me such barefaced lies."

Alice beamed at him. "Gervaise, you are the best of brothers."

"A pity," the duke said, sauntering across the room, his face expressionless. "Do feel free to help yourselves. The breakfast, sadly, will be cold, but the brandy is very tolerable." He paused beside Alice, and Cornelius put his arm protectively about her. "It might just have been you," he said obscurely, and stepped over his groaning coachman. "Johnson," he snapped. "Jones!"

"Jones is with us," Cornelius said. "And his family will not be harmed."

There was the slightest of pauses, and then the smallest, curtest of nods. The duke strolled straight out of the inn, Johnson stumbling after him.