Page 93 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

Still, it would all be worth it when her plan came to fruition.

“There,” she hissed.

“I see her,” the footman called.

“I didn’t ask if you saw her,” Agnes snapped. “Did I ask you to speak?”

The man remained silent.

Agnes had hoped he might speak again so that she could further scold him—it was hard to show just how angry she was with him and the situation when she had her arms wrapped around a commoner. And not any commoner, but the help from her father’s estate! What was she supposed to do? Grab him tighter? The fool might mistake it for affection.

It was a complete embarrassment, and she would relieve him of his duties as soon as the task was done.

And it would be done soon.

Agnes watched from atop the horse and amongst the trees as Beatrice snuck out of the manor wearing the same clothes as last time. She had not personally witnessed it the first time—she had tasked a hired hand to watch Walford Estate and report back to her.

When she heard about Beatrice sneaking out dressed as a man to drink with strangers in taverns, she became very excited. The only problem was that she had no proof. All she had was the word of a man she had paid. That was about to change.

The ball had been a disaster, but Agnes never had only one plan in place. She had sent her maid to speak with Beatrice after she had found out the real reason for her sneaking out.

“So, you think you can destroy me?” Agnes muttered.

“No, I would—” the footman started.

“Fool!” Agnes snapped. “I am not talking to you. I am talking toher. Oh, forget it!”

You want to destroy me tonight, but I will finally destroy you.

The plan was set. She had sent her maid to tempt Beatrice out one more time, and she had gone on a tirade on the balcony to ensure Beatrice would come. It was the perfect trap, and there were witnesses waiting in the tavern that Beatrice had visited before. There would be no mistakes this time.

“Stay close to her. And I am talking to you this time, you fool,” Agnes said.

The footman remained silent and gently manipulated the reins to steer the horse through the trees, remaining invisible as Beatrice left the estate.

Agnes wondered if Beatrice had told the Duke before sneaking out this time.

The moon was bulbous and bright in the clear sky, giving good illumination—enough to follow the Duchess on her horse, but enough that they had to be careful not to be seen. Agnes could not have the night ruined by being spotted. Everything had fallen apart around her, and this was her last chance.

A chance I will seize with both hands. I will ruin her life for what she did to me, and then I will have the Duke. He will marry me, and we will teach everyone a lesson for laughing at me.

Agnes laughed softly as they rode, and she felt the footman tense up. She hated him more than she had ever hated anyone before—even Beatrice—and could not wait to be rid of him. Her father might be a little put out, but he would get over it.

“Don’t lose her,” she warned.

The footman performed well, Agnes had to give him that. He remained behind Beatrice’s horse, far enough away to keep an eye on her and never getting too close. Agnes was sure she knew where Beatrice was going, but she needed to see it all for herself. She needed to be there at just the right moment.

She smiled and could not contain her glee when they approached The Red Lion.

“Let her go inside,” she said.

The footman slowed the horse, keeping to the side of the road to remain in the shadows. Agnes watched Beatrice tether her mount and enter the establishment.

“Go quick,” Agnes ordered.

She worried that Beatrice would exit as quickly as she had gone in and the opportunity would be missed.

The footman dismounted and helped Agnes down. He tethered the horse as quickly as possible and then escorted Agnes into the tavern as instructed. She pulled a black hood over her head just like Beatrice’s—the footman needed no such disguise.

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