Page 5 of Never Dare a Duke
No, she could not let this happen.
While her mind still worked, while she could still write, she would work on the gossip story that would bring readers back to theJournal.She would give her father back his respect and save her family. The Cabots had land and wealth and power but still thought they could use illegal means to hide their crimes. It wasn’t fair to good people everywhere. The truth—and justice—had to come out. She would take Gwen up on her offer and visit the country house of a duke.
And suddenly, the thought of disguising herself as someone else,beingsomeone else, was a very powerful lure.
Chapter 2
“What is it?” Gwen asked with concern in her voice.
With a sigh, Abigail looked away from the hedgerowed countryside that seemed to roll past their carriage. She was trying not to show her emotions, but with Gwen, even a twitch of her eyebrow could be a signal.
They both glanced once more at Miss Imogene Bury, Gwen’s elderly spinster aunt, who’d spent almost the entire morning dozing.
Suddenly serious with determination, Gwen said in a quiet voice, “You have been…strange all week, when you should be excited. After all, your father thinks you’re on a visit with me—and that’s the truth!”
Abigail looked at her lap, fingering her reticule, which matched the green of her gown. “Something has been on my mind and I…I did not know how to tell you.”
Gwen took both her hands and leaned close. “Tell me what, my dear?”
“TheJournal’s circulation has been decreasing the last year. My father would never be the one to tell me. His managing editor, my ‘employer’”—she gave a bitter smile—“did so. I know I should have told you the truth, but I did not want you to know how much rested on this assignment I’ve given myself.”
“Oh, Abby,” Gwen murmured, rubbing her hands. “Your poor parents.”
“I don’t even know if my mother is aware of the situation. But this is why I am so desperate to succeed. If it were just about me and my need to prove myself to my father, I would never have gone through with it. My stomach is already full of angry butterflies at the thought of looking into the duchess’s face and—” She glanced at Miss Bury and couldn’t continue.
Gwen nodded. “It is just an article, you know. You are not committing a crime. And they’re hiding something illegal—”
“Are they?” Abigail interrupted bitterly. “We don’t even know for certain. Would you want your private problems to be told to all of London—to all of England?”
“But I am not a duke,” she said, as if that explained everything.
Abigail groaned, sank back on the bench, and closed her eyes.
“We are almost there,” Gwen said, patting her leg again. “Do you not want to see where we’ll spend the next week?”
Abigail opened one eye. “I am certain I will see it when we arrive.”
But then she was caught by something out the window, and she found herself lowering the glass, regardless of the dust, so that she could have a better view.
“Are those Greek columns?” Abigail asked, leaning out the window to see the impressive columns fall away behind them.
“They are,” Gwen said solemnly, though her eyes betrayed her by twinkling. “It will be a while yet before we see the house.”
Abigail tried to pretend she wasn’t nervous. She looked at the pastureland spread out even to the hills, filled with roaming white clusters of sheep. A stream cut through the earth, and gradually the trees growing near it thickened until they blocked much of the view.
Abigail frowned. “But how will we see—”
As the carriage followed a bend in the road, leaving the trees behind, at last she saw Madingley Court. She was used to elegant homes, but she could not stop the gasp that emerged from her throat.
“Sumptuous, isn’t it?” Gwen said, looking out the other window. “I’ve always wanted to use that word.”
“It’s the perfect word,” Abigail whispered in awe.
It was not just a mansion, but a castle and palace all rolled into one. There were pointed turrets and battlements like those of a medieval castle, but spread up five floors and across a swath of countryside. Hundreds of windows reflected the glittering sun. The lane led past the house as if it took forever, until at last they turned into a courtyard and pulled beneath the columned portico. Another carriage, empty now, left the courtyard.
“Other guests have arrived,” Gwen said.
Abigail realized again the enormity of her task, for she would not only be fooling the duke’s mother and sister. “How many guests will there be?” Her voice was almost a squeak.
