He nodded. “Go on.”
At the point where she and William regained the nursery to find George with Barbara, she paused for breath.
“Good God,” he murmured, shaking his head. Obviously shocked, he rose to his feet, and stalked around the room. Then, retracing his steps, placed his glass on the table beside hers and stood looking down at her. “Is William quite sure he saw someone?”
“He is not entirely convinced. As I followed close behind him, I would have come across them, surely.”
“Not necessarily,” he said heavily. “There are secret passages all throughout this old house, Miss Harrismith. One on that floor leads down to the garden. As a child, I used it often.” He frowned. “But I gave orders for it to be boarded up years ago after my son was born.”
“Your Grace, I don’t want to dramatize what could be a simple matter of the cat escaping, but coming after the episode in the wood…” Her throat was still horribly dry, so she took another deep sip of brandy which made her cough again. She wasn’t getting any better at drinking it, but the liquor did add a warm glow to the spot where a cold chill lodged in her chest. “And I’m now unsure if it was Nanny Evans who left the candle burning and set the curtains on fire. I wondered at the time why the candle hadn’t burned down to a stub.” She searched his concerned face. “I hope I am right to have come to tell you delay.”
“You did right, Miss Harrismith. I can hardly ignore the distinct possibility that someone has made three attempts to harm my son,” he said. “If there’s a villain’s hand at work, then thank God you were there to thwart the attempts.” He stood. “Come. I need to see my children.”
They reached the top of the stairs. In the corridor outside the nursery, George rocked gently on his chair.
The duke raised his eyebrows, blue eyes incredulous. “You gave George a chair, Miss Harrismith?”
“He will be more alert if he’s rested.” Jenny didn’t wish to point out the long hours the poor footman had remained at his post.
“Unless he’s made too comfortable,” the duke murmured. “Perhaps a nice warm shawl?”
At their approach, George jumped to his feet and bowed. “Your Grace.”
“Keep alert, George, with a primed flintlock. Expect trouble. Jeremy will relieve you shortly,” the duke said. “It will be the routine from now on. Forrester will be informed.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” George leapt forward to open the nursery door. The duke motioned Jenny inside and followed her.
In the dim light of the argand lamp Jenny now used instead of candles, both children slept deeply. William was curled up as if he suffered from bad dreams. Barbara lay on her back with the kitten stretched out beside her.
The duke stared down at William. He bent and gently eased back a lock of hair from the boy’s brow. William stirred, and half opened his eyes. “Father?”
“It’s all right now, William, go back to sleep. I’m here.”
William murmured something indecipherable and rolled over.
The duke moved to Barbara’s bed. The kitten raised its head and stared at him. It opened its pink mouth and yawned, stretched, and closed its eyes. The duke pulled the blanket up to cover his daughter’s shoulder.
“Now, Miss Harrismith,” he said, turning toward her. In the poor light, his eyes looked strained. “What shall we do?”
The duke didn’t require an answer, and she couldn’t have given him one. He approved of the arrangement she’d made with the footman, and he knew she was here for the children. That didn’t need to be repeated. After a moment, he walked over to the door. He turned, a hand on the latch and searched her face. “I am asking a lot of you, Miss Harrismith.”
“I’m up to the task, Your Grace,” she said, more briskly than she felt.
He nodded. “I’m impressed by your courage, but this must not rest on your shoulders. While I get to the bottom of it, an armed footman will remain outside the nursery at night, and the schoolroom by day. Keep to your routine, but always with a footman to protect you. I will ride with William.” He sighed heavily. “If anything bothers you, you are to come to me. No matter how insignificant you might consider it, or whatever time it is.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
His gaze searched hers. “It’s late. You must be tired. Good night, Miss Harrismith.”
After the duke left, Jenny nodded to George, entered the nursery, and locked the door behind her. William propped himself up on his elbows. “Is Father angry with me for following the cat, Jenny?”
“No, William. He loves you and your sister very much.”
She knew this to be true.
William lay down and closed his eyes. He was soon asleep.
In her bedchamber, she undressed and washed in cold water from the jug. She climbed in between the chilly sheets and rested her head on her arm, too harried for sleep. The duke was a man of deep emotions. A wounded soul. And now this! Why would anyone want to hurt him and his family? Could they have entered the house through some secret passage the duke had talked of? The thought that danger lurked behind the walls terrified her. She shuddered and pulled the bedclothes close.
