Page 1 of The Truth about the Duke
Prologue
Why have we stopped?
The gentleman frowned, looking out of the window though he could not see a great deal, given that dusk had already fallen. “Stanley, might I ask why you have pulled me to so sudden a stop?” The rap on the roof and the call to the driver brought no answer and the gentleman’s frown grew heavier, his eyebrows falling low over his eyes as he battled the tension beginning to rise within him. The carriage ride back to his estate had been a long and arduous one and he was more than ready to return home. That journey, however, had now been interrupted though quite for what purpose, the gentleman was not yet sure.
Frowning, he glanced around the carriage, wondering if he had any way of defending himself should it come to it. There was no time for him to consider, however, for there came a sudden cry, followed by a thump which made the gentleman’s breath hitch in fright.
Highwaymen.
A cackle of laughter and the sound of his belongings being thrown from the carriage roof only confirmed his suspicions. Frantically, he began to search every inch of the carriage, tryingto recall whether or not he had any weapon hidden within. His mind could not fix on any one idea, could not settle on a single thought, his heart racing, his breathing quickening as he searched every inch of the carriage.
And then, he remembered.
Sliding his hand to the back of the seat, he fumbled to find the small gap and, upon securing it, tugged lightly at the seat itself. The entire thing lifted just a fraction, allowing his fingers to close around the small dagger that was hidden there. It was not a pistol, which might have been much more useful given the present circumstances, but it was the only weapon he had.
“And you, my good sir! Are you to show your face to us?”
He did not have time to answer nor even to think of what he might say, for the door to the carriage was swung open for him and a leering face peered up at him. The gentleman’s heart threw itself against his ribs as he lurched back as though somehow, hiding himself back into the carriage would help him.
“We are here for your treasures,” the fellow said, tilting his head, a kerchief pulled up around his mouth and nose. “You have a fine carriage and you must have something of worth, I am sure.”
“Whatever I have belongs to me,” the gentleman answered, his voice wavering slightly as he gripped one edge of the seat in an attempt to keep himself steady. “It is not yours to take.” Trying to take in the highwayman, trying to make out as many details as he could, the gentleman’s eyes narrowed. There was not much for him to see, aside from two flashing eyes and a black hat that was pulled low over the fellow’s forehead. The kerchief hid the rest of his features, making it almost impossible to discern anything.
I will remember those eyes,the gentleman told himself, just as the highwayman began to laugh, perhaps discerning his thoughts.
“There is little worth in trying to salvage something – anything – from this,” he said, with a chuckle. “You are quite under my control. Your driver has already been conquered by another of my men and as we speak, your things are being laid out for us to search through. Your jewels, however, must be somewhere. And, I suspect, you must have them on your person or in the carriage beside you.”
A slight sweat broke out across the gentleman’s forehead. The very reason he had gone to London was to collect the family heirlooms which had been sent back to him from the continent. His late father had taken them with him upon his departure from England, though, the gentleman believed, he had not had any intention of dying over there. It had taken months for him to have the heirlooms returned and his delight upon bringing them back to the estate was almost inexpressible.
Save now, that was to be taken away from him.
“I have a good deal of coin on my person, yes.” He did not mention the heirlooms, wanting the precious stones to be safe, wanting to do his utmost to hide them from these vagabonds. “There may well be one or two other things in amongst my possessions but – ”
“Do you mean to say you have no diamonds?”
The gentleman stopped short, rather astonished by the highwayman’s question. How did the fellow know that he had such a thing upon his person? Or was it a mere guess, given his obvious status?
“I asked you a question.” The highwayman’s voice grew ugly now. “Do you have your diamonds?” When the gentleman did not answer, a flash of a blade was his only warning. The tip pressed lightly against his neck and in that instant, the dagger held hidden in his other hand, seemed utterly useless. He swallowed, his throat bobbing as he tried to answer, his vision blurring just a little.
“The diamonds.”
He had no choice but to nod. His life was not worth the heirlooms. To state that he did not have diamonds seemed useless, for what point was there in pretending otherwise? Somehow this fellow, whoever he was, had a clear awareness that yes, hedidhave these in his possession so to lie would only bring him more trouble, he was sure.
“Where?”
The tip of the sword moved away as the gentleman straightened. He gestured behind him, to the boxes tucked away on the floor of the carriage. Pretense would do nothing. They could easily kill him and search the carriage thereafter… though they might very well kill him all the same.
“Fetch them, if you please.”
The gentleman swallowed at the knot in his throat, pushing himself back a little as he tried to reach for the boxes all without revealing the dagger. It was foolishness on his part, he knew, but to drop the dagger would make him feel completely vulnerable. To hold it still meant he had a chance – albeit a slim one – to defend himself.
“Here.” There were three boxes and, one by one – and with one hand – the gentleman pushed them towards the highwayman. “The diamonds. Just as you expected.”
He watched as a flash danced across the highwayman’s eyes. Did the fellow realize what it was he had done by revealing his knowledge of these diamonds? He had, whether he had meant to do so or not, shown an awareness of this gentleman: who he was and what he had been about. Though mayhap that did not matter, if his end was soon to come.
“Take them outside.” The highwayman lifted his chin. “Then I shall let you and your driver away.”
A flare of hope caught his heart but he quickly dismissed it. This man’s word could not be trusted. No doubt the sword wouldpierce him through the moment he had finished putting the last box outside but what choice did he have? Taking a tighter hold of the dagger, he edged closer and, as the highwayman stepped back, rose to his feet so he might step down. The highwayman did not do or say anything, keeping the sword high as the gentleman began to take one box at a time from the carriage. Fear scrambled through his mind as he set the last box on the ground, praying that the growing darkness would give him a chance to escape. His heart hammered furiously, turning his attention to where the driver sat only to see that there was no driver there.
