His father was gone. His uncle. His cousin. “All three of them were in the coach?” Somehow, he needed to hear it again. It did not seem possible. “The duke, St. John, and my father? None of them were on horseback?”
Henry continued shaking his head. “The rain was heavy. They said they’d ride in comfort until the storm passed. They were going to London and then on to Kent. The ladies remained at Priory Point and planned on traveling tomorrow.”
Dev ran his hand through his hair. Thank God, the ladies hadn’t been with them. It could so easily have been Sophia. He pushed such a thought out of his mind.
Still… this… this… loss. It was nearly inconceivable. He could not dwell on his personal emotions right now.
The women were virtually trapped at the castle.
Her grace would be beside herself.
And Sophia… sweet, innocent, loving Sophia… would be caught in the middle of it all.
Devil take him, he needed to contact Harold.
Harold was the duke now!
That had to change everything. Wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t the death of his father and brother be cause to return? To stage some miraculous reappearance?
Dev looked up and realized that Henry awaited instruction.
The man needed to get some rest before taking to the road again. Dev pulled on his shirt and gestured toward the basin. “Clean up and rest a little, Henry. I’ll have the horses readied and see about locating sustenance for the journey. I need to attend to a few matters before we leave, and then I’ll send a maid to wake you.” After pulling his boots on, he forced himself to sweep away the pangs of loss threatening to engulf him. “Are you up to it, Henry, or do you need to wait until morning?”
But Henry would not wait. “Practically morning already. Send the maid when you are ready.” He grimaced. “At least the rain is stopped now. I’d not let you travel alone, you being the new duke and all.”
Oh, hell!
He needed to reach Harold! And as quickly as possible. For if Harold and Stewart’s packet had set sail already, it could take months — years possibly — to track them down.
“Don’t say that,” Dev said. “Don’t call me that.”
He could make no explanations to the lifelong retainer his uncle had employed. But he was not the duke. Had not ever really even considered it.
He stuffed his belongings into his knapsack and pulled on his jacket. Thankfully, it had dried by the fire the chambermaid had lit before he’d lain down. “I’ll be back within an hour.”
Looking at him with sympathy, Henry nodded.
The innkeeper was angry at first when Dev woke him, but after he heard about the tragic accident, his demeanor changed from that of annoyance to obsequiousness.
“I need a messenger to travel to Dover. The matter is of the utmost importance. Time is of the essence.”
Dev had written a message in code to the false name he knew Harold had taken on. Dev wanted to punch something, the wall, a door. He realized that most likely, Harold and Stewart’s ship had already sailed. His only hope was that the weather might have delayed it.
They could not continue to perpetuate the lie of Harold’s death now, could they? With explicit instructions, he sent the message off in hope that it reach his cousin in time. He could not even begin to fathom the implications… What with the guilt he and Sophia had experienced, he could only wonder at how Harold would handle news of this very real tragedy.
It was nearly four in the morning, and most of the inn’s staff were yet abed. Dev exited the inn and made his way around to the outbuildings. He would assist the hostlers who’d been awakened when Henry arrived. It would give him something to do with his hands, with his restlessness, while he allowed the other man some rest.
* * *
The outrider had not been mistaken.
Everything he’d originally reported had been verified.
Since the road up to the Priory was still considerably dangerous, Sophia could not send for a physician to tend to the duchess. Instead, she’d directed the housekeeper to locate some of the laudanum that had been given to her shortly after Harold’sdeath,and had a dose administered to the duchess. The magnitude of the woman’s loss was unfathomable.
Nonetheless, a doctor could not be called in.
Without getting any sleep herself, Sophia found herself called upon to attend to the magistrate who arrived early the next morning. He’d asked for the duchess, but Sophia explained to him that her grace was indisposed. He could discuss matters with her. He’d met her once before, when she’d described to him how her husband had fallen off the side of a cliff.
