Page 49 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
“He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me,” Aaron’s eyes were narrowed. “Does he have a death wish?”
Norwood stepped closer and dipped his voice even more, “Not you Oberton, he wouldn’t be so foolish to attack you personally but anything that concerns you. That is fair game.”
The Lord's words mirrored with what he had heard the other men speaking the other night about him being targeted. If Julius was one, who or what else could Wyndrake go after? His businesses? His servants? Lady Darcy? God forbid,Eleanor?
His stomach promptly flipped itself in horror. Spinning, Aaron nearly bumped into a waiter who was carrying a glass of amber-colored liquid that Aaron promptly snatched up and downed in a heartbeat. The alcohol burned his windpipe and his stomach but it was bracing.
Slapping a pound note in the man’s hand Aaron strode out. Over his dead body was Wyndrake going to rope anyone he cared for into this mess. A footman was sent off to fetch his carriage and it barely screeched to a stop when he jumped inside.
“Home,” he ordered curtly.
If he had to post Bow Street Runners twenty-four hours a day at Lady Darcy’s house and Eleanor’s he was not afraid to. No one was going to get with ten feet of them much less lay a hand on either if he had any say in the matter. They had come to the circle where his home rested, and as the carriage was coming upon the entrance to Eleanor’s house, he saw two shadowed figures, cloaked from head to foot, sneaking alongside the bushes.
Instantly, Aaron was alarmed. Had Wyndrake already sent his men out? His mouth opened to yell ‘halt’ when he realized the two bodies were too tiny to be cutthroats and to kill his suspicion completely a gust of wind blew the cowl off the taller one and he nearly had an apoplexy—it was Eleanor!
What in God’s name was she doing out at this time of night?
He twisted on his seat to see her and whoever it was duck into the thick tree line. That was it. Aaron knew he would never rest easy if she was out there by herself. As the carriage rounded a corner, he gave the order to stop. He let himself out with a nimble hop and told the driver to carry on home.
The driver adjusted his cap while his expression was decidedly worried, “Pardon me, Your Grace, but despite this neighborhood’s general safety, I wouldn’t be out alone at this time.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Aaron’s was chafing to run after Eleanor, “But I will be fine, thank you, carry on.”
Without another word, Aaron tugged on his dark coat and hurried back down the lane.Eleanor, what are you doing now?
* * *
The low-lying elm tree branch delivered a fifth leafy slap to her face but Eleanor pushed on. She had to get Maria out of her house if the child had any chance of surviving. After Maria had hidden and her father’s men had gone on a wild goose chase, Eleanor had forced herself to eat the rest of her dinner on an upset stomach.
Her father had not been pleased and she had swallowed roasted pheasant seasoned with his displeasure. She had waited till ten o’clock before changing out of her finery and slipped out by way of a servant’s door to get Maria.
While her father had been growling into his plate of grouse, she had snuck away slices of bread and slivers of dry meat into her napkin that, filled to its capacity, had been capriciously balanced on her knees. She had stayed put sipping her glass of water with downturned eyes until her father had huffed out a few parting words and left to his study.
Eleanor had stayed, hoping beyond hope that her father would turn to his whiskey for comfort. When the servants came to clear the table, she took her loaded napkin with her. The child needed food.
Now, stumbling half blind in the darkness as the only light they had was the sliver of the crescent moon overhead, Eleanor felt panic. The trees were so dense and the bushes more so, they had to slow to a walk.
Eleanor could barely see the ground and caught her feet on many a hidden root but she had to get Maria away from the house. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to get Maria out of Mayfair to her mother’s home in Seven Dials near Convent Gardens on foot.
A mile-and-a-half on foot in the dark was not easy to do knowing that she had to be back home by dawn. Traversing the streets of the city at night was an open invitation for assault and Maria might need to get out of London altogether if her father caught on to her deception.
She was frantic with the cold realization that she had not thought this escape through. Sweat dripped down her spine and black spots ran over her vision for a fleeting moment. What was she going to do? Where was she going to put Maria up for the night?
Fear cramped her stomach—this was insane. Never had she done anything so spontaneous but she acted on reflex instead of planning ahead and now not only she, but Maria, was going to pay for it. How could she have been so foolish?
Her feet started aching far too soon to complain aloud about it but Eleanor was not going to cry even as the ache began to travel up her legs. She was desperately looking for somewhere she could put Maria until the next night.
Not looking at what was ahead, Eleanor tripped and barely saved herself from bashing her head in on a hidden rock. She was stunned.
“M-my Lady?” Maria’s scared whisper was louder to her than a choir in full swing.
“I’m all right Maria,” Eleanor said as she pushed herself up and brushed off her dirtied palms. “Let’s continue.”
But to where?
Beyond the limits of her father’s property there was another, and beyond that was another palatial mansions just like hers. Her fears soon came to pass as the boundary wall was met. She despaired, there had to be something they could do!
Her head flashed from side to side in growing anxiety—where could Maria go?
