Page 56 of The Duke's All That
Four days later—four days of mind-numbing travel in which Seraphina had only her torturous memories of Iain to keep her company—her carriage rolled into Durham.
Well, not her carriage. And not even a rented carriage. No, Iain had insisted she use his own carriage, with the men he trusted, the same men who had driven them north. They turned down a street, and a familiar inn came into view, the very same inn she had spent that horrible night with Iain, when they had learned the truth of their separation and had gotten so drunk they had wound up in bed together. What would have happened, she wondered listlessly as she started gathering her things, if they had never had that fight? Would they have continued hating each other all through their long journey? Would the break with him have been so much easier, a relief instead of the misery it was?
But there was no sense inwhat ifs. What had happenedhad happened, and there was no changing it. No amount of cursing her father would bring them back to that time.
Her father. Fury sizzled under her skin for all the heartache that man had caused. The bastard was most likely sitting comfortably and unconcerned at Farrow Hall this very moment. She glared in the direction that place would be, just six or seven miles away, a mere hour’s journey. Would that she could face him, to tell him exactly what she thought of him.
Iain’s voice suddenly drifted through her mind, a memory she had forgotten, spoken during that frantic, inebriated night of a week ago:If it got out that you were alive, and he lied, he would be ruined.She stilled, her focus suddenly to a pinpoint. She had not paid Iain any heed when he had first said it, as concerned as she had been with keeping him from going to her father. But she realized now that it was true. Her father had proclaimed to all and sundry that she and her sisters had perished. He had essentially buried them, no doubt taking advantage of the attention it brought. All this time she had used her supposed death as a kind of shield. Surely no one would come searching for her now.
She had never once considered that there was an even more powerful armor protecting them from her father searching them out.
An idea took shape then, absolutely mad, and yet shining with possibility. Was it a gamble to try out this new plan of hers? Absolutely. Inwardly her body rebelled, her heart speeding up and her hands beginning to shake. But hadn’t Iain made her see that she was stronger than she had even realized? Hadn’t he shown her with his own triumphs that taking chances could be worth the risk? And after all, she was so damn tired of hiding, so tired of knowing her fatherwas out there living his life without a care while she and her sisters had been struggling to survive. She was tired of living in fear, and she was tired of her sisters living in fear. She recalled the day after Iain had arrived on Synne, and the terror in her sisters’ faces when they had seen him and believed they were found and would have to leave their home. It was time to put an end to it once and for all. She did not want her sisters to feel that fear ever again.
The carriage pulled into the yard of the inn, slowing to a stop, the men descending to see to the horses. As the groom made to open the door, however, she put a hand on the latch to stop it and leaned out the window. “I would very much like to visit a house nearby before we stop for the night,” she said. “Is that possible?”
The man looked confused but touched a finger to the brim of his hat and nodded. “Of course, miss. And where would you like to stop off?”
Seraphina took a deep, steadying breath. And then, before she could rethink her decision, she said, “Farrow Hall.”
Farrow Hall looked the same as it ever had, the gray stone structure sprawling and elegant, spreading across the flat land as if determined to take possession of everything in its purview.Just like its owner, Seraphina thought with trepidation as she descended to the gravel drive and stared up at an edifice that was at once achingly and terrifyingly familiar. She’d spent happy days here, of course, though they had been few and far between. Most of her early memories had to do with this place and her mother, ever sweet and loving if constantly sickly. And then after, when her sisters hadbeen born and her mother was no longer with them. She had tried to take what would have been her mother’s place in their lives, to give them some of what they would have had if Lady Farrow had survived that last birth.
But by then most of her memories—her happy memories anyway—centered around the outdoors and the adventures she had with her sisters. Those that centered around the house itself, those that her father had been part of, were only darkness. He had never been a kind man when her mother had been alive. But at least then he had made himself scarce. After her mother had died, he had become a stifling presence, like a great dark vulture looming over them. As she had gotten older, his unkindness had turned to cruelty, his unceasing need for perfection and obedience making life nigh unbearable.
And when she had dared to love someone he had not approved of, to plan a life with that man, he had treated her no better than an animal, locking her up in a place designed to break her spirit.
She had been back to Farrow Hall once after that, when her father had taken her from the asylum with the belief that she would finally be the meek daughter he had always wanted her to be. But the house had been as much a prison as the asylum had been—until, that was, she had gathered her sisters up and left, stealing them away in the dead of night.
She shivered as that old fear coursed through her, the unforgiving gray stone walls of the house before her looking more like a jail. And here she was, ready to climb those front steps and enter that place of her own free will. A manic laugh escaped her lips. Perhaps she was as mad as he had tried to make her believe all those years ago; why elsewould she willingly re-enter the house of the man who had tried for years to track her down like a dog to do God knew what after she had found the will to leave him?
But this man had taken enough from her; she was determined to finally take back, to break free of his hold on them once and for all.
Adjusting her spectacles, she turned to the groom, who had stood silently by while she dithered. “Will you please watch Phineas for me?” she asked, her voice shaking. At least her pet would be safe should anything happen to her while she was inside.
“Aye, miss,” the man said, concern knitting his brow.
Nodding her thanks, she straightened her shoulders and climbed the front steps, pausing only slightly before ringing the bell.
The sound of it echoed through the house like a death knell. Before it had faded away there were heavy footsteps from within. And then the door was thrown wide, and the butler stood there, ancient and wiry and frighteningly familiar.
“Hello, Barnes,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “Is my father in?”
Though now that she thought of it, arriving unannounced like this may not have been the wisest thing to do. While Mrs. Campbell had somehow been aware that she was alive, Seraphina had not considered who else might have known or guessed at that fact. Obviously, it was not the butler, that was certain. The man gaped at her, turning white as a sheet before stumbling back and clenching a hand over his heart.
“Ah, God,” he croaked. “Lady Seraphina, come back from the grave.”
Seraphina winced. Damn and blast, that was all she needed, for the man to keel over dead on the spot from shock at seeing her.
“I’m not a ghost, Barnes, but alive and well,” she tried to say. But the moment she stepped toward him, hand extended to offer him assistance, he gave a gurgling shout, throwing his hands before his face. And then he was off, loping through the house as if she were a spirit come to steal his soul.
“Dear God,” she groaned. And then, because she didn’t know what else to do, she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her.
At once she felt as if she were being buried alive, her chest tightening almost unbearably as the walls of the building seemed to close her in. But she had come this far; she would certainly not turn tail and flee now. Straightening herself to her full height, she stalked through the house, ignoring the wan faces of the servants who peered out of corners as she passed, no doubt given ample warning by the terrified butler, whose wails of ghosts and demons she could still faintly hear echoing through the bowels of the house.
But she hardly heard him or the anxious whispering of the servants over the rush of blood in her ears. It was like she had stepped back in time, as if her sisters would come tearing around the corner as they searched for her, as if her father’s angry face would appear from the shadows to terrorize them into behaving. She half expected the latter to happen at any moment. Surely that man must be aware that something was amiss by now. Was he searching for her as she was searching for him? The very idea had her heart pounding hard and anxious in her chest, had her rubbingat her wrists, as if she expected the manacles to already be there.
But no, he never appeared. Nor was he in his study when she finally reached that place. It had been his favorite room, the one where she had been certain she would find him. He had never been far from it, his need for control in every aspect of his life having him poring over correspondence and ledgers at all hours of the day and night. Unperturbed, she made her way to the library. Surely if he was not in his study, he would be there. But no, he was not there either. In fact, the room was decidedly cold and dark and smelled oddly musty, as if it had not been used in some time.
Biting her lip, she turned back to the hallway. Where else could he be? She could try asking someone, of course. But with the way the servants squeaked and scurried into the shadows when she looked their way, she rather thought that would not necessarily be as easy as it sounded. It was up to her to search her sire out. Mayhap he was in his rooms. And so, on shaking legs Seraphina went back to the front hall and climbed the stairs. The floor that housed the family quarters was just as dark and musty as the library. Not wanting to look too closely at her surroundings, she attempted to keep her head down and hurry on to the primary suite of rooms at the far end.
