My Inconvenient Duke (Difficult Dukes #3)

Chapter 27

Saturday 10 August 1833

By the time the Ashmonts’ wedding breakfast was over, Blackwood thought it would be a good idea to bash his head against the

nearest wall.

Thickhead. Dolt. Clodpoll.

But that would be theatrical, and he was not theatrical. Also, it would not improve matters. And so he made himself wait calmly

and put intelligible words together. When at last he and Alice were in their carriage on their way home, he was ready to speak.

Grovel. Whatever was necessary.

“I chose my words stupidly yesterday,” he said to her stiff profile. “No, stupidly is an appalling understatement. But it can’t be helped. Let me try again.”

She said nothing.

“I don’t want you to be hurt,” he went on. “I don’t want you to reawaken bad memories by being on the spot. I know it’s not

very intelligent of me, but I keep wanting to protect you from... everything. Sewer rats and malign cousins and gang leaders

and wicked schoolmasters and anybody else who might hurt you in any way. I want to protect you from the world. All I could

think of yesterday was not letting you go near that place.”

“But I’m safe now,” she said. “The children are not.”

“No, they’re not. And it’s absurd to expect you to turn your back, simply because you might be hurt. With you, it’s the opposite:

You want to meet the trouble head on. I cannot believe I was such a monstrous thickhead as to fail to take that into account.”

A pause while he waited, heart unsteady.

At last she said, “You’ve always seemed to me less thickheaded than most men.”

He started to breathe again. “You’re all the more disappointed, then, when I fail so badly.”

“Yes.” She threw him a glance, and he felt the wall between them begin to give way.

“Do you know,” he said, “I remember, vividly, the first time I saw you. It was my first visit to Camberley Place. You were

ten years old, climbing down from a window. Ripley said you meant to become a warrior or a knight or maybe both. He said you’d

been to a grim sort of school earlier in the year. That was the Tollstone Academy for Girls, obviously.”

“Yes. The worst January, February, and March of my life.”

“And after that experience, you determined to learn to take care of yourself, in case you were ever again confined against

your will.”

“Yes.” She was watching him now, still tense.

“I ought to have realized that your feelings about such places must be all the stronger because you deal these days with so

many unfortunate children. No, it’s more than that. You open your heart to them. You see yourself as one of them, one of the

lucky ones.”

“But I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need to escape. I’m the one who can make a difference for them.”

“You are a child,” he said. “You’re all the children. You’ve had a glimpse of what they endure, and it breaks your heart, and you want to mend it, and— Oh, what does it matter? What more need I say? I was shockingly wrong. You need to do this. And I’ll go with you.”

She turned fully toward him. “To Yorkshire? Truly?”

“I meant what I said a lifetime ago when we were in Kensington and you broke that fellow’s nose. I said, ‘Never without me.’

Starting new schools is one thing, and it’s a joyous thing for you, I know. Returning to the scene of a crime is another altogether.

I can’t and won’t let you face it alone—that is to say, without me.”

She was studying his face. She couldn’t always read it, he knew. But most people, including his nearest friends, couldn’t

read it at any time.

“This is so frustrating,” she said. “I keep hoping to catch you not being perfect, but I fail, again and again.”

“Keep trying,” he said. “You might find a flaw somewhere. A minuscule flaw, to be sure. But if you persevere, I daresay you’ll

find it.”

“Oh, Giles.” There was a flurry of rustling fabric, and she closed the few inches between them and climbed onto his lap.

His heart lifted. He brought his arms about her.

“You are an excellent husband, no matter what anybody thinks,” she said. “No, more than that. When you make a mistake, you

admit it. You are a superior husband.”

“As long as you think so, I’m content.”

“I think so, and believe it or not, I have reflected on what you said yesterday. I did want to gallop onto the scene and slay

dragons. But I should only end up singed. What’s needed in this case is a scheme, and that is your forte.”

“I’m glad to hear that you recognize my genius,” he said, “because I already discern the glimmerings of an idea. A little dangerous, perhaps. Possibly not precisely legal.”

She smiled, and mischief sparked in her eyes. It was the mischief he’d seen all those years ago as she ran past him. It was

the same conspiratorial smile he’d seen so often before, directed at him.

“How clever of me to marry a man with a brain,” she said. “You’ve no idea the weight you’ve lifted. I didn’t want to leave

you again. I loathe all these separations. But this was worse. I dreaded the prospect of returning to that place. All the

same, I couldn’t turn my back on them. With you, I know we’ll succeed. Then we can return to London, and I’ll direct my attentions

to Liliane’s schools, closer to home, where I can truly be effective.”

“If you would come closer still, my dear, I believe you can be extremely effective,” he said.

London

Monday 12 August 1833

Grouse hunting season had begun. This year, the grouse had to do without Blackwood. Instead, on the “glorious twelfth,” he

summoned his solicitor to Blackwood House, and Alice had her first glimpse of the elaborate planning employed for Their Dis-Graces’

infamous pranks.

They met with Mr. Furnell in the duke’s study.

Upon hearing their mission, he shook his head. “Difficult business, Your Grace. Exceedingly difficult.”

“Over the years I’ve followed several of the cases reported in the newspapers,” Blackwood said. “I’m fully aware of the difficulty.”

Alice had followed them, too, while she was abroad. “We know that criminal complaints fail repeatedly,” she said. “In the

teeth of the evidence, the juries find the school proprietors not guilty.” Even though children died of illnesses brought

on by neglect and starvation, it was the fault of the illnesses, not the abysmal conditions. “When one considers the kinds

of cases that have failed, one can hardly hope for a different verdict for the school in question. It isn’t the worst, by

far.”

“But it’s bad enough,” Blackstone said. “What we need, Furnell, is another route. The ladies of Heyshaw ought to be able to

establish their school without interference. We’d prefer to avoid criminal acts if possible.”

“Then I’m obliged to inform Your Grace that burning down the Tollstone Academy is out of the question,” Furnell said in his

dry voice.

“And no throwing headmasters out of windows, I’ve told him,” Alice said. “They tend to create a bother about such things,

and Mr. Tollstone is extremely litigious.”

“Our difficulty is the location,” Blackwood said. “We’re miles from the spot, and we haven’t spies in place. It’s crucial

to give no warning. At the same time, everything must appear more or less aboveboard.”

“We don’t want to taint the Heyshaw ladies’ efforts,” Alice said. “We must appear to be acting on our own.”

“What I want from you,” Blackwood said, “is ideas of what to look for. We also want clarification as to what is and isn’t

out of bounds. I had some thoughts about money matters, and I don’t doubt you do as well.”

“Not bribery, though,” Alice said. “We refuse to enrich those people.”

Furnell considered. They let him review the material they’d gathered, including Mrs. Eccles’s letter. He had questions. Eventually, he had suggestions.

When he left, Alice looked at her husband. “It’s going to be complicated.”

“That’s what makes these sorts of things so much fun,” he said.

On the following day, they met with Keeffe. The next day they spent with Madame Girard. Then there was research: reviewing

various Acts of Parliament, the Police Gazette , and journals like Figaro in London . Blackwood wrote to Mr. Crade, a solicitor in the West Riding whom Furnell had recommended.

Alice wrote to Mrs. Eccles, asking in strictest confidence for the further details the lady had offered to provide. “The Duke

and I have decided to look into the matter,” Alice wrote. “However, given the legal difficulties you’ve faced, I must urge

you in the strongest terms to share this decision with nobody, even the members of your society. In the meantime, you may

rest assured that we will do everything in our power to assist you.”

She could only hope the lady was discreet. Some people could not keep a secret if their lives depended on it. But there were

bound to be risks. Any number of them. Alice had always been willing to risk. Now she’d have Blackwood at her side. They’d

risk together.

Now all they had to do was succeed.

Rehearsals began the following week.

***

The Duke and Duchess of B____ and party honored the Haymarket Theater on Wednesday. Along with the opera of Clari and the drama The Housekeeper , they witnessed the new farce, Pyramus and Thisbe , by the junior Charles Mathews, which proved a great success. While perhaps too improbable even for farce, the piece is excessively

amusing, and the noble couple were seen to laugh heartily as well as indulge in their own exchange of secrets. We are led

to suspect a reconciliation, one which has long been hoped for among their families and friends.

—Foxe’s Morning Spectacle

Friday 16 August 1833