Escaping the Duke (The Secret Crusaders #1)
Chapter 17
86%
CHAPTER 17
D ear Edmund,
The truth. It has the power to illuminate, to build, to destroy. It is a difficult thing to admit, especially when it forges the very path lives will take. Yet it is time you learn my truth.
I am your best friend.
Your colleague.
Your informant.
I am Priscilla.
I beg you to understand, this ruse was for good cause. It was never antagonistic, no poorly made jest to fool, ridicule or hurt. Its purpose was solely of survival. As a lady, I can never have the sway of a lord, and I feared no lord would ever welcome my aid. So I created the fictitious Lord P.
I have prowled the lairs of dastardly lords, cajoled them into giving up their secrets. I knew you would never approve, and without your power, my life’s work would be halted. I would be relegated to ballrooms and drawing rooms, and I simply cannot accept that.
I know you have tried, and I appreciate that. Yet you simply cannot change your powerful nature, the need to protect and possess those you care for. It is why you must let me go.
Why I must let you go.
Why have I shared this in a letter? Because this letter will never reach you.
How I wish it would be so easy to write a simple letter of truth, and have you accept and understand. Yet even as you delve closer and closer to the truth, I fear the consequences should you ever discover it. Thus I must continue to hide from you, for as long as I have the power to do so.
There is one more secret I hold, yet I cannot bear to say it, not even in a letter I will never send. Yet it changes everything. Although I cannot say it, please know that I hold you in the highest esteem. If only…
Yours,
Priscilla (Lord P)
P.S. I never believed the ladies’ retiring room was near Lord Roxbury’s garden.
The warm sun caressed Priscilla’s cheek. She leaned into it, stretching muscles sore from her first glorious taste of lovemaking. In the gentle first moments of waking, she pushed aside uncertainties of the future, fears of the past. She reveled in the memory of joining with Edmund, becoming part of something amazing. He had been so masterful, so powerful, yet gentle and kind. It had been more beautiful than she ever imagined.
“Wake up, my lady. The sun has long since risen, and your mama wishes for your presence.”
Priscilla opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed through open curtains, illuminating the luxurious room. It was the same, and yet somehow everything was different.
Including her.
Ellen, her maid, chattered cheerfully. “You have a lot to do today. The Bradenton ball is tonight!”
For most, the premier event of the season heralded a night of enchantment. Everyone would be there, dressed in their finest, dancing, dining and enjoying the best delights in the world. Among the glittering ton, it was a night of splendor.
For her, it held untold danger.
Uncertainties crashed down on her like an ocean wave, threatening to drown her. Edmund acted as if she were already his, and there was no telling the lengths to which he would go to make it true. His declaration to see her father today was no threat. If her father agreed…
The worst part was how much she truly wanted the match. How much she wanted him. Last night had been everything she dreamed of and more. He was everything she dreamed of, and the thought of giving him up broke her heart. Yet there was too much uncertainty, too much at stake.
Perhaps if there was more behind his pursuit, something stronger, something rarer. Something from the heart, then just maybe the risk would be worth taking.
She was out of time. Her only hope was to immediately accept another offer, giving Edmund no choice but to drop his suit. Even if he discovered the truth, he wouldn’t have power over her. Their relationship would stay in the past.
The very thought broke her heart.
“You have mail, Lady Priscilla.”
Priscilla accepted the stark white letter from her maid. “Thank you.”
She swiftly tore through the seal. Her smile widened as she read her Greatest Admirer’s missive, chock full of details about several naughty lords. Thank goodness, for she had been less than productive due to one very infuriating duke. This information would go a long way to changing votes.
As typical the letter held more than facts. This time, it was two simple sentences:
Do not forget to care for yourself. For you are loved.
“Priscilla, may I speak with you?”
Priscilla started, and the letter slipped from her grasp. As her mother leaned down, she dove for the paper.
“Priscilla!” her mother admonished as she tucked the paper into a hidden pocket.
“Sorry, Mother.” She smoothed down her dress. “It was a personal letter.”
The duchess’ eyes darted to the pocket. “I saw the word loved. Was the letter from a suitor?”
“No!”
The duchess folded her arms across her chest.
Priscilla cringed. Why had she been so emphatic in her denial? Plenty of suitors wrote letters professing love, even to women they had just met. Yet now she couldn’t deny it. “It’s from a friend.”
Her mom cocked her head to the side. “I am certain I saw the word loved.”
Priscilla grimaced. Her mother noticed every little detail. “It was simply advice. My friend said I should take care of myself because I am loved. It is trivial.”
Her mother’s stance softened, and she held out her hand. “Come with me.”
The duchess led Priscilla to the settee, where they both sat down. She touched her arm. “There is nothing trivial about such advice. It is both wise and factual.”
“Of course, Mother.”
The duchess squeezed her arm. “Do not of course me child. You are indeed loved.”
Priscilla stiffened. Of course her parents loved her, and she loved them. It was natural.
Her mother sighed. “Priscilla, do you know what love is?”
She started at the unexpected question. “Of cour – I mean yes.”
Her mother gave a small smile. “Love can be a difficult thing to understand, much less admit, in today’s strict society. It is not considered the fashionable thing, yet I believe it is as vital as the air we breathe. Do you want to know what love means to me, Priscilla?”
She hesitated, shook her head.
“You.”
She stared.
“Do you know how I felt when you were born?” The duchess looked into the air, yet her eyes gazed into the past. “You were so beautiful, so perfect. You stole a piece of my heart that day. Your laugh lit up my world, and your father’s, too. Suddenly life takes on new meaning.
“It is difficult to explain, but you change when you become a mother. You see the world through new eyes, with possibilities you never before imagined. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, or could ever imagine. A child is hope, a promise, a bridge to the future. You will always be the baby who giggled so sweetly, the toddler who delighted me with her first steps and the little girl who set out to change the world. You have grown into a kind and beautiful woman, a strong woman, and I could not be more proud. So when life seems impossible, or when you do not know which way to turn, remember I am here for you. Forever.”
Priscilla didn’t move. Couldn’t even respond.
Yet she felt it.
She was indeed loved.
“I better go.” Her mother gave a small smile. “I will see you at breakfast.”
Priscilla simply nodded.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, contemplating her mother’s words. Despite all the problems, she felt calmer, more at peace. She was not alone.
The maid came closer then, her secret smile indicating she had heard. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
Priscilla nodded, shook her head to clear it. There was much to ponder about her mother’s elucidations, yet she would do so another time. Today would already be life-changing.
“Thank you for bringing the mail.”
“Of course,” the girl nodded. “It was convenient the messenger came so early, since I could give him the outgoing mail.”
“Outgoing mail?” Priscilla repeated absently. “That’s good.” She froze. Slowly, carefully turned to her nightstand. Her empty nightstand.
“Ellen–” Somehow she managed to keep her voice calm. “What happened to the letter?”
“The letter?”
“The one on the nightstand.”
“Oh.” Her maid smiled. “The one addressed to The Duke of Bradenton?”
Priscilla nodded. The letter she had written simply because she had to express the words. The letter she never intended to send. The letter that exposed her.
“I sent it out with the rest of the mail.” Ellen’s smile faded. “I assumed that’s what you wanted.”
Do not panic.
Do not panic.
Do not panic.
Priscilla took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you, but it wasn’t ready to go.” She hopped onto the hard floor. “Help me get dressed, so I can intercept it before the courier leaves.”
“Actually–” Ellen wrung her hands. “I sent it out at first light. It’s probably already been delivered.”
Panic.
Panic.
Panic.
“I saw it when I was tidying up early this morning.” The maid cringed. “You’ve left letters there in the past, so I assumed you wanted it sent. It’s been hours.”
Hours since the letter had been delivered to Edmund.
Hours since he probably read it.
Hours since he may have learned the truth.
“I will soon depart for an appointment with Lady Drummond, and then the Duke of Sherring. I expect success from both.”
“Very good, Your Grace. I will ensure all is ready.” His steward placed a thick pile on the table. “I brought your letters.”
Edmund rubbed the back of his neck. Today had the power to bring great victory, or disaster. Priscilla was cunning and unpredictable, brave and fiercely intelligent. It was part of what he loved about her, yet it threatened even the most carefully crafted plans. He must move quickly and with strategy, convince Sherring to approve the match without sharing anything scandalous. Yet he would do whatever was necessary to secure Priscilla as his bride.
He hated using such draconian tactics, yet what choice did he have? Cornered, Priscilla may do something drastic. She may accept an offer from a man who speaks to rocks, horses or plants. She may run away. She may even put herself in danger. He would prove that her rightful place was by his side.
He looked out the window, at the sun still low in the horizon. It was too early to visit Lady Drummond. His gaze centered on the letters. Perhaps a little work would make the time pass quickly.
He reached for the first letter.
A lady visiting a duke should calmly announce her presence.
A lady should serenely wait to be admitted.
A lady should not duck under the footman’s arm, scurry past the housekeeper and run up the stairs like a runaway monkey.
Yet that was exactly what Priscilla did. Muffled shrieks followed her as she negotiated the stairs in a fashion most assuredly similar to a monkey. Fortunately, the servants were too startled, or horrified, to give chase, giving her time to try room after room. Finally, she spotted a door at the end of the corridor, larger and more ornate than the rest. She raced down the hall and opened it.
She shot into a dark, masculine room decorated in shades of deep green and blue. A cracking fireplace illuminated luxurious mahogany furniture set next to plush, overstuffed settees. Edmund sat at a massive, gilded desk, surrounded by piles of papers and priceless antiques.
He stood up in shock. “What in blazes?”
The servants must have finally regained their senses, or their courage, because half a dozen of them piled up behind her. Everyone spoke at once, a cacophony of apologies, explanations and bewilderment.
“Silence!” With Edmund’s single word, the servants ceased all movement. It was that simple for him.
What did that mean for her?
“What is going on? Priscilla, are you all right?”
She smoothed her dress and stood serenely, as if she had glided in like a proper lady and not scurried in like a proper monkey. “I was wondering if you could give me a moment of your time, Your Grace.”
He looked behind her. The servants seemed to have lost their ability to speak, and most were staring with open mouths. Several bobbed like fish.
“Of course.” The words were mild, yet his tone held curiosity and suspicion. Of course her wild escapade would concern him, but what else could she do? She had to stop him from opening the letter.
If he hadn’t already.
There was no way to know from his neutral expression. He addressed the servants, “I have matters to discuss with Lady Priscilla. You may return to your duties.”
The servants looked no less shocked, even as they rushed to obey their master’s bidding. As the door softly clicked shut, she realized why. “I am alone with you in your bedroom.”
“You are indeed.”
She closed her eyes. This was very, very bad. Bradenton’s employees were discreet, yet even the most disciplined servants would have difficulty containing so tantalizing a story. When word got out, scandal would come immediately. Unless…
“Do not worry. No one will care about a little meeting when we announce our betrothal tonight.”
“No.” Somehow she would find a way to neutralize the latest danger. “That’s not why I’m here.”
He moved closer. He was dressed in a suit of pure black, his hair neatly combed and his cravat intricate and perfect. “Why are you here?”
“I… I…” She tried again, yet the words wouldn’t come. The truth was impossible, no excuse plausible. Her gaze fell on the desk. Letters in various stages of opening were arranged in neat piles.
Including hers.
The letter was unopened. She let out a breath of relief, then froze as his eyes narrowed. He may not have yet seen it, but it was in his possession. How could she possibly steal it without him seeing?
He followed her gaze.
“I want to talk about us!” She shouted the words, and he whipped his head back.
The suspicion in his eyes deepened. “Have you decided to accept my offer?”
If only… “I’m afraid not. I’ve come to explain why I cannot marry you.”
“We’ve already settled this.” His voice was firm, his stance hard. “You can and you will.”
She stood taller. “You are not the only one with a say.”
“You’re right.” He smoothed out his sleeves. “In a few hours I have an appointment with your father.”
She suppressed a gasp. She hadn’t realized he’d move so quickly.
“I would have gone first thing this morning, but I have another appointment.”
Something tilted in her stomach. “Another appointment?”
“This one does not concern you. I have a matter to discuss with Lady Drummond.”
This time she did gasp.
His eyes darkened. “Are you all right?”
Not in the slightest. For him to delay speaking to her father, the matter with Lady Drummond would have to be vital. Urgent.
Something like finding out the identity of his informant.
Unwittingly her eyes once again fell on the letter.
He noticed.
“What are you looki–”
She kissed him.
It was an act of desperation, of every emotion that couldn’t be contained. He immediately seized control of it and her, pulling her flush against the body she knew so well. Her softness pressed against his hardness as he ran his hands up and down her sides, smoothing her.
Her body grew ripe for his touch.
She fought not to get lost to the sensations, the touches. She reeled as he spun a sensual web, as her body responded the only way it knew how. She opened her eyes to stare directly at the letter. It was so close, yet so far. Only perhaps…
She pushed a little more into him, and he took a step back.
An impossible plan formed, one with little chance of success, yet any chance was better than the certainty of capture. She urged him back again. Closer, closer, and then almost within reach. If she could grab it, hide it somewhere within her skirts, then just maybe she could accomplish the unthinkable. She reached out, touched its smooth, cool surface. Just a little closer…
An iron hand clamped around her wrist.
“What are you doing?” The voice in her ear held full control. Edmund pulled back, even as he kept her in his firm grip. His deep blue eyes shone with clarity. “What are you about, Priscilla?” He followed her gaze, and this time did not stop.
Her breath hitched.
He carefully set her back, even as he kept a hand on her, to contain her as much as steady her. He used his other to paw through the letters. He uncovered hers, with a single word in flowing script. “Bradenton.”
She couldn’t help but still when he uncovered it. His looked at her, then down at the letter and then back at her. And then his eyes widened.
That was the moment he knew.
Her heart thundered against her ribs, her lungs struggling to gasp enough air. Fear, horror and panic tangled in her chest, casting tremors that shook her body and heated her face. She stared at the man she loved, the man whom she had undoubtedly already lost, as he finally discovered the truth.
The man who now held all control.
“It can’t be.” He shook his head, even as the dawn of realization shone. He let out a long heavy breath, at stark contrast to her rapid pants. “Priscilla.” The voice was questioning and answering at the same time, disbelieving and yet utterly certain. “Explain yourself.”
She shook her head wildly, even as she tugged at the arm he still hadn’t released. His features hardened.
He released her, but his expression commanded she stay. It did not matter. There was nowhere she could escape.
He picked up her letter, turned it over in his hands.
“Please.”
Yet he paid her no heed as he undid the seal, opened the letter.
And read.
It did not take long. His eyes darted back and forth as he consumed the truth that exposed all. Her heart thundered so loud it was a miracle he could not hear. Finally, he finished.
The intensity in his eyes was unnerving. Once more he had shed his gentlemanly facade, and now a warrior stood before her, challenging, uncompromising, all-powerful. She reached for the letter, but he folded it crisply, slipping it into his jacket pocket. It was all the evidence he ever needed to control her.
Her life was now in his hands.
He did not say a word as he brushed past her to the door. He opened it a sliver. “Send Lady Drummond my regrets and my gratitude. Tell her I solved the mystery on my own. I will be getting all the answers right now.”
He closed the door, locked it. Priscilla edged back, grasping the table behind her. Edmund did not stop until he towered above her. His heat surrounded her, his power threatened to consume her.
“You are Lord P.”
A statement, not a question. And no way to deny it.
“I should have realized…” He stopped, brought his bright blue gaze to her. “Explain. The truth this time.”
She touched her lips, where he had kissed mere seconds ago. “I meant everything I said in the letter. My subterfuge was never intended to hurt you. It was the only way I could make a difference.”
She took a deep breath. “We were told to ignore it. The poor. The suffering. The pain. Yet I never could. I pledged to do something to stop it as soon as I could. I researched Parliament, learned about the members for and against social causes. That’s when I first heard about you.”
She remembered back. “My first investigation happened by accident. I was at a ball when I overheard a lord and lady speaking about politics. The lord always voted against social actions causes, and the lady was a friend of mine. I wondered if she may be able to convince him to change his mind.”
“She did.” She smiled, remembering her first success. “From then on my investigations flourished. I soon realized I could do so much more if I actually had some sway in Parliament, which of course I didn’t. So I decided to find someone to whom I could pass information.”
“Me.”
Her smile faded at the harshly spoken word. “There was no other choice.”
His eyes turned incredulous, and she continued, “You were the logical choice by far. You were already a fervent supporter of social causes, and no one held as much power as you. When you want something…” She swallowed. “You usually get it. I was hoping you’d be open to using my information, but I knew you would never accept it from a woman. If I told you who I was–”
“I would have said it was far too dangerous.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The investigations, the sleuthing. You were not hopelessly lost at Lord Roxbury’s – you were investigating. I also assume it was you who hid behind the tapestry?”
She nodded miserably. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. Once we got to know each other in real life, things became more complicated. Feelings got…” She stopped, looked down. “I enjoyed our time together. Very much.”
“What were you thinking?” He clenched his fists. “When I think of the danger you put yourself in! These men make powerful enemies. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” His voice grew louder with every word.
“Yes!” She gathered all her strength, the anger and power that propelled her. “I know every single risk. Yet I choose to continue, because the danger I face pales in comparison to a poor woman alone on the streets or a tiny orphan with no one to care for him. That is who I am fighting for, and why I will never stop trying to change the world, no matter the risk!”
His fury filled the air. “You may be willing to risk it, but I’m not. You will cease your investigations immediately!”
It felt like a knife in her belly. “No!”
“I will not have you risking your life. I forbid it!”
She jabbed him with a finger. She might be smaller than him, but her will was just as strong as his. “You have no right to forbid me to do anything! I was hoping you would continue our working relationship, but if you won’t, I will find someone else.”
“You will not find anyone else,” he growled. “Do not underestimate my power, Priscilla. Whatever I have to do, I will ensure you do not put yourself in danger again.”
Fear flashed through her, not for herself physically, but for her life’s work. While he technically had no control over her, his power was wide and far. If he wanted to stop her… he would.
“This is why you refused the match.” Edmund breathed out. “Why you only pursued suitors who were occupied. You wanted someone who would be so distracted he wouldn’t notice you traipsing through dangerous men’s homes.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I hoped… hope to find someone who wouldn’t notice my activities.”
“Who wouldn’t stop you, you mean.”
She hesitated, nodded.
“It’s too late for that.”
This was not going well. As everything she feared came to life, she searched for a way to undo it. “Please, Edmund. Nothing has to change. You said so in your letters. We can still work together, just like before. Think of all we accomplished.”
“Nothing can continue.” His harsh tone bore no contradiction. “I never would have accepted your help if I understood the risk.”
“You knew the risk!” she cried. “It makes no difference that I’m a woman.”
“It makes all the difference. What would happen to you is very different.” His voice was deep and low. “This cannot continue. That relationship has ended. Forever.”
Tears threatened as she lost what was never truly hers, gave up a future that could never be. “You truly want to never see me again?”
“ We are not over.”
She froze. “What?”
“You and I are not over.” He stalked toward her. “Not even close.”
“But you said our relationship has ended.”
“Our working relationship.” His eyes flashed. “I will not allow you to put yourself in danger again. But you and I, we are just getting started.” He stood up tall, folded his arms across his chest. “Tonight, I will announce our betrothal.”