Page 16 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
There was surely more to it than this—the kidnapping had been meticulously planned, and there were far easier targets than Isabella, should extortion be the only intention.
“But you can’t dismiss the possibility someone has a grudge against you—one they’ll go to any lengths to avenge themselves against. Can’t you think of any enemies you’ve made? We both know what sitting in the House of Lords means. We have enemies. It’s a simple truth. And some of our enemies are inscrutable in their actions,” Edward replied.
He had poured the duke a glass of brandy, and now he watched as Isabella’s father swirled the aromatic liquid in his glass, staring ponderously into its depths.
“There’s Carlton—the Earl of Longton. He and I never saw eye to eye, and I know he blames me for the failure of his sugar plantation. But it’s a dirty business, and he deserved it—anyone who keeps slaves deserves whatever they get. But…I can’t see him sinking to such levels.
Besides, I don’t think he’s even in the country. Then there’s old Sullivan Folley. He and I fell out years ago over some petty matter—he always looks daggers at me across the chamber. But why now? It’s been twenty years since then. He’s had ample opportunity to make mischief for me,” the duke said, furrowing his brow.
Edward was uncertain whether Isabella’s father was keeping something back. He knew the duke’s reputation, and there were surely more enemies in his closet than the Earl of Longtown and Sullivan Folley—both of whom were one foot in the grave.
“This is more than making mischief, though, isn’t it? I dread to think what they’d have done to Lady Isabella if…” Edward said, his words trailing off.
He could not imagine anyone wanting to harm such a beautiful creature, but the duke was another matter, and Edward felt certain he had just the sort of enemies who would sink to such lows.
“If they’d got her. I know, and I still can’t believe she escaped. She’s such a quiet and delicate creature. She spends most of her time in the library at Burlington Grange. I worry about her sometimes. But she showed such pluck and courage in escaping. It’s quite remarkable,” the duke said, shaking his head.
Edward agreed. Isabella appeared to be a shy, retiring creature, and yet she had overcome all odds to make her escape. Edward admired her, but he feared she might not be so lucky if a second attempt was made to snatch her. The kidnappers would be angry—denied the payment for their wickedness and all too ready to strike again.
“I suggested she should remain here for the time being. I’ll delay my journey to London. Augusta won’t mind. She can act as a companion to Lady Isabella. You shall return to Burlington Grange—pretending Lady Isabella is there. If they’re watching the house, it might draw them out. Have your footmen ready to apprehend them or send for the militia. If you can draw them out, perhaps you’ll reveal the face of your enemy, too,” Edward said.
He was not entirely sure why he was helping the duke and his daughter in this way. His own duty—and more—was done. He owed them nothing, and yet there was something about Isabella, something he could not entirely explain. From the moment she had fainted in his arms, Edward had felt a tenderness towards her.
He wanted to protect her as he would his own sister. She had come to him for help, at her most vulnerable, and had trusted him with her very life. Edward felt honour bound to help Isabella in her hour of need, and more than that—he wanted to do so. The duke nodded.
“It’s certainly a bold plan, but you’re right. I can’t believe this is just some vague attempt at extortion. It seems I’ve got an enemy, one I need to discover if Isabella is to remain safe,” he said.
Edward was glad the duke saw sense in his plan. Isabella would be safe at Howdwell Heights. Only a handful of people knew she was there, and it would not be difficult to keep her hidden.
All thoughts of the London Season were gone, and Edward knew his sister would not mind foregoing the balls and soirees of the coming weeks if it meant helping their new friend. Augusta needed direction. She had little to keep her occupied, and Edward hoped she might find a new friend in Isabella, one to help her navigate the turbulent waters of widowhood.
“I think that’s right—there’s no telling what might happen otherwise. They could be waiting for your return this very moment, ready to ambush your carriage or snatch Isabella at first sight,” Edward said.
The duke sighed and shook his head.
“I’ve always tried to protect her. Losing her mother was a terrible thing for us both, and I can’t say I’m a very good substitute for her. In fact, I’d say I’m a pretty poor excuse for a father. She adores me, and yet…I’m hardly worthy of her adoration,” the duke said, looking suddenly sad, as though the terrible events of the previous night had made him realize what he had to lose, even as he had so often taken Isabella for granted.
Edward felt sympathy for him. His relationship with Augusta had once been the same. His rakish ways had distracted him from seeing just how miserable she had been in her loveless marriage to the Marquess of Hamilton.
It was only after his death that Edward had come to see his sister’s vulnerability and know his own responsibility towards her. He was glad the duke had come to realize this, too, even as the task of rebuilding his relationship with Isabella would not be easy.
“But you’re here, and that’s what matters. You can take care of her now, but the best way of doing that is to leave her here with us. She’ll be safe, I promise you. But it would be dangerous for you to return—you happened on us by your chance meeting with my stable hand, and it seems you weren’t followed, but we can’t take that risk again.
I’ll be sure to send regular messages, and you can do the same. I’ll explain everything to Isabella. In the meantime, you must make it seem as though she’s with you at Burlington Grange—send out a carriage with curtained windows around the estate, have the table set for two as usual, all that sort of thing,” Edward said.
He had thought the matter through in some detail, and the duke nodded, agreeing with Edward’s plan.
“If I may, I’ll send her maid, Anne, too. They’ve been companions for many years. She’s as much a friend as a servant and was terribly anxious to learn what had become of my daughter. It’ll give them both a sense of relief to be reunited. I really can’t thank you enough, but I suppose I must say goodbye to her now,” the duke said, looking somewhat crestfallen as he rose to his feet.
Edward opened the study door for him, ringing a small bell on a table in the hallway to summon Marston to fetch the duke’s riding coat.
“I’ll take you up to her room myself,” Edward replied, glad to have a reason to visit Isabella, even as Augusta had insisted she rest.
They made their way upstairs, and Edward quietly opened the door of his sister’s room, knocking gently as he did so. Augusta was sitting by the window embroidering, but she rose to her feet, pointing towards the interconnecting door.
“She’s asleep now. We mustn’t wake her. She’s been through a terrible ordeal,” she said, and the duke nodded.
“When she was a child, I’d often be away on business, and I’d leave very late or very early. But I’d always go to the nursery and kiss her forehead. After her mother died, she was all I had left. I might not seem the best of fathers, but I love my daughter more than words can say. I must say goodbye to her,” he said, and Augusta nodded.
