Page 3 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
“But you will honor their request,” Beckwith stated emphatically.
Shifting his eyes back to the marquess, Nicky saw him give one quick nod.
“I will. For friendship’s sake.”
“Very good, my lord. If you could send some footmen out to retrieve the lads’ trunks—”
“Have your driver and footman bring them in. Then be on your way.”
Beckwith seemed to hesitate, but eventually he knelt before Nicky and the twins. “Keep your chins up, be good lads, and make your parents proud.” He curled his hand over Edward’s shoulder and squeezed. Then Greyling’s. Finally, Nicky’s.
Nicky wanted to beg not to be left behind.Please, please, take me with you!But he held his tongue. He’d already shamed himself once. He wouldn’t do it again.
Beckwith stood, eyed the marquess. “I shall be checking on them.”
“No need. They’re in my care now. Be off with you as quickly as possible.” He looked toward the windows. “Before it’s too late.”
With a slow nod, Beckwith turned on his heel and walked out. No one moved. No one spoke. The trunks were brought in. Shortly afterward, Nicky heard the creaking of the coach’s wheels, the pounding of the horses’ hooves as though Beckwith had ordered the driver to hurry, as though he couldn’t escape fast enough.
“Locksley!” the marquess shouted, making Ashe jump.
The boy behind the frond rushed forward. “Yes, Father?”
“Show them upstairs. Let them select the bedchamber they want.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” the marquess said, a faraway look coming into his eyes. “Don’t go out at night.”
As though no longer aware of their presence, he wandered back into the dark and foreboding hallway from which he’d originally emerged.
“Come on,” the boy said, turning for the stairs.
“We’re not staying,” Nicky suddenly announced, deciding it was time he took charge, time for him to be as dukish as possible.
“Why not? I’d like to have someone to play with. And you’ll like it here. You can do anything you want. No one cares.”
“Why isn’t your clock working?” Edward asked, stepping nearer to it as though suddenly intrigued by the craftsmanship.
Locksley scrunched his brow. “What do you mean?”
Lifting his hand, Edward drew a circle in the air. “It’s supposed to be ticking. The hands are supposed to move around the numbers.” He reached up—
“Don’t touch it!” Locksley shouted as he darted in front of the clock. “You’re not supposed to touch it. Ever.”
“Why not?”
Looking confused, Locksley shook his head. “You’re just not.”
“Where’s your mother?” Greyling asked, stepping nearer to Edward, as though he needed the comfort of a familiar presence in this dreary, ominous place.
“Dead,” Locksley said flatly. “That’s her ghost shrieking over the moors. If you go out at night, she’ll snatch you up and take you away with her.”
A cold, icy shiver skittered down Nicky’s spine. He looked toward the door, the windows on either side of it revealing the darkness descending, and he feared it would claim him as well, that when he could finally leave this place—like his parents—little of him would remain except ash.
Chapter 1
London
