Page 31 of A Duke Under Her Spell
They waited in silence for the guard’s replacement. When he came, the Duke gave the new guard explicit instructions that he was not to fall asleep or to abandon his post for any reason. James and Marybeth left the dressing room, reassured the Dowager Duchess that no one had been harmed, and then moved to inspect the other hole in the house. They found the butler, Mr. Wheatly, standing guard.
“Mr. Wheatly, did you rest as I instructed?” the Duke asked. He was clearly surprised to see the older man armed with a pistol. The butler looked as if he were ready to face battle.
“Yes, Your Grace. When I awoke, I found the young footman flirting with a maid instead of doing his duty with diligence. I took his place and sent him on his way.”
“I fear that the guard we posted in Mother’s dressing room fell asleep,” the Duke commiserated with the butler in their disappointment. Had the issue not been so serious Marybeth would have smiled at their matching expressions. “Did he or you happen to see our intruder pass through here?”
“No, I did not. The young footman only had eyes for the maid. I believe an entire herd of deer could have run through the walls and he would have hardly noticed.”
Marybeth snickered at the image such a description wrought, but quickly covered up her amusement with her hand. She had gone from sheer terror to feeling slightly hysterical. Her emotions were bouncing around inside of her in a most uncontrollable cacophony. Deciding to sit down in a nearby chair, she waited quietly for the Duke to finish speaking with Mr. Wheatly. Taking deep breaths, she attempted to calm her inner maelstrom.
The Duke sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “How is he doing this?” he asked looking down into the gaping hole in the floor. “If I had enough men small enough to fit in the walls, I would post guards all throughout the passageway to catch him.”
“You could arm the women,” Marybeth suggested.
The Duke and Mr. Wheatly looked at her as if she had gone mad, then turned back to discuss what they felt were more viable options, completely disregarding her suggestion. Marybeth fought the urge to roll her eyes at them. She knew it was not an acceptable occupation for women, but she knew from her own experience that she was capable of far more than she was permitted to do. She suspected that the other women of the household could say the same.
Making a decision, she quietly arose so as not to draw attention to herself and returned to the Dowager Duchess’s room. She pulled the knife from her medicinal supplies and entered the dressing room. Nodding to the guard, she grabbed a candle, took a deep breath, and entered the passageway. She knew the Duke would be angry with her for what he considered to be reckless behavior, but someone had to ascertain how the ghostly figure was coming and going at will.
Scared and shaking, she made her way between the two walls, moving slowly to inspect every aspect of the space. She ran her knife hand over every surface she could reach, looking for a door or latch that might allow him to come and go without being detected. She wondered if it was a coincidence that he had revealed himself to women a majority of the time or if it was an intentional part of his plan, believing them incapable of overpowering him and fighting back.
Heaven forbid,she thought sarcastically. She was not normally a negative person, but recent events had left her feeling rather vulnerable. When she finally reached the top of the staircase, she debated whether to turn back to avoid the Duke’s ire or to continue on in her inspection so that she could reassure herself that she had not missed anything. Deciding to continue on, she slowly descended the stairs, checking the walls as she went.
When she reached the bottom stair, she expected to hear the men’s voices but instead heard only silence.They must have moved on to another part of the house. I wonder if they noticed my absence.Peeking her head around the corner of the wall she was brought up short by the sound of a cocking pistol.
Chapter 12
“Miss Wright!” Mr. Wheatly exclaimed in surprise. His eyes were wide with horror. “I almost shot you! What are you doing?”
Marybeth looked around for the Duke but did not find him. “Where is His Grace?”
“When he noticed that you had stepped away, he went to ascertain your whereabouts and to reassure himself of your wellbeing.”
“I see.” Marybeth cringed as she thought of the trouble she was going to be in when he discovered what she had done. Pulling her head back into the passageway she judged the distance between the bottom step and the other side of the hole in the floor. She was not at all certain that the opposite floor would hold her weight if she were to swing herself across the expanse to continue on with her journey.
Mr. Wheatly’s face appeared in front of her own. “I can see what you are thinking about, Miss Wright, and I must caution you against such a dangerous action. It would be best to wait for the groomsman, Oliver Singer, and allow him to test the flooring.”
Marybeth shook her head. “I will not risk Oliver’s life, if I am not willing to risk my own.”
“That is good to hear,” Oliver’s voice chimed in from behind the butler. Mr. Wheatly moved back, and his face was replaced by Oliver’s. “It looks as if you had the very same thoughts as I.”
“The intruder showed himself again,” she explained. “I regret to report that I reacted in fear without thought to apprehending the culprit.”
“As I am sure I would have done,” Oliver commiserated with her. “I was quite concerned when I fell down into that tunnel,” he motioned toward the gaping hole in the floor.
The sound of clanking tools and approaching footsteps drew their attention away from the hole and back toward the hallway. “’Tis the men from the estate to repair the walls,” Mr. Wheatly announced. “Now, Miss Wright. I must insist that you remove yourself from inside the walls immediately so that the men might get on with their work. His Grace will be greatly displeased to learn of your reckless behavior.”
“Yes, he will,” the Duke’s voice agreed sternly from behind them. Marybeth closed her eyes in dread. When she opened them, she found Oliver’s hand extended to her to aid her in stepping out of the passageway and back into the house. “What were you thinking?” The Duke’s eyes bored into hers disapprovingly.
“I was thinking that we are missing something. I am convinced that we have missed a doorway or some sort of opening that allows him to move so freely. I have felt every section of the walls that I could reach and am no wiser than I was when I started.”
“What can I say or do to keep you from endangering yourself in such a fashion?”
“I will not allow any man to threaten the safety of those I care about, ghost or otherwise. I am simply attempting to do my part.”
“From this point forward, I would appreciate it if you would keep your interests to that of healing my mother and leave the protection of the estate and its people to me, Miss Wright.”
The Duke’s words hurt but she knew he spoke from concern over her wellbeing more than out of actual anger or disdain. She nodded in acceptance of his wishes for fear of pushing him beyond what he could bear or tolerate. It was unwise to push a man as powerful as the Duke into a situation where he was forced to intervene. Marybeth liked him very much, but in truth she had only just met him and had no knowledge of who he truly was when challenged.
