Page 66 of The Artisan and the Duke
Boris wrung his hands piteously as he sank into the leather of the chair. “I have lied to you, Dear Cousin. I thought that I was protecting my family, but it turns out that I was protecting someone that family means very little to.”
“You are referring to my uncle, I gather?” Gregory ventured.
Boris nodded slowly. “He all but admitted that he had set those men on Fredrick. Why did you not tell me of the attack?”
“I was overwhelmed with fury at the sleight to my wife, and with her missing, my heart is without a compass. I know not what I do, good Boris,” Gregory said softly.
Boris nodded his understanding as he leaned forward to put his hand on Gregory’s arm. “I have tried all I know to find Her Grace. She is simply gone. What can I do … What would you have me do, dear Cousin?”
“I need to find my uncle. He has to be the foul beast behind it. If he could just tell me why he chose to do it,” Gregory whispered furiously.
Boris looked thoughtful a moment. “There is one place that Sir Lawrence liked above others, and that would be the estate north of here that my mother’s family owns. It is very quiet and secluded. One of his mistresses works for my mother’s estate there. It is possible he has gone there to hole up or perhaps somewhere in the woods,” Boris said. “We could go see if he is there.”
“I fear that could take too much time. My wife may very well be anywhere by now, but if he knows something … if we can make him tell us, then I would be most grateful, Boris,” Gregory said as he fumed silently. “To think he could be there sipping wine while my heart dies.”
Boris shook his head with fury, “If he has done so, then he will drown in it.”
“Well, said, good Boris.” Gregory nodded his agreement. “Allow me to let my household know where I am going, and then we shall be off.”
Boris agreed, “I need to alert my own household to my departure, so I shall meet you back here after tea.”
“Very well,” Gregory said as he rose. “We will find him, and when we do, we’ll have answers.”
***
“You cannot be seriously considering going with him,” Lady St Claire said to Gregory as the man pulled on his riding coat. “Gregory, listen to me, please. You are my son; I do not want to see you harmed.”
Gregory sighed, “I know, Mother. However, if there is any chance that this venture may show me some hint of the Duchess’ whereabouts, then I have to try. You will let Fredrick know where I am going. If I am not back in due time, then he has my permission to come to find me.”
“Of course,” Lady St Claire said. It was impossible to dissuade Gregory when he had his mind set on something, so she merely watched with dread as her son strode out of the front door. “Those boys are going to be the death of me, William,” Lady St Claire said to the doorman who was dusting nearby.
William nodded. “His Grace does appear to be rather single-minded, My Lady,” William said with warmth.
Lady St Claire agreed with a laugh, “Yes. Just like his father.”
“His father was a good man,” William said respectfully.
Lady St Claire smiled at William and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder as she headed towards the kitchen for some tea, “That he was, William. That he was.”
***
When Fredrick arrived home, it was to his mother’s distraught ramblings about his brother going off with Boris which Fredrick confirmed with the household staff as his mother was so upset that the woman went straight off to bed to lie down. Olly and Talbert immediately volunteered to go after the Duke, but Fredrick shook his head.
“If Gregory wants us to wait here, then that is what we shall do. He might seem out of his head with longing for Her Grace, but I promise you that my brother knows what he is doing,” Fredrick said as he clapped Olly on the back.
“We know, Sir; we just feel that we need to help somehow,” Olly said quietly.
William came into the living room and said, “Pardon me, Sir, but there is a Tom from the Mason Guild here. He said that his master sent him with a message for His Grace.”
Fredrick waved for William to let the boy in as he shifted his aching leg up onto the soft pillows of the couch. It was a poor thing to meet guests in such a manner, but he feared that if he did not do that, he may not be able to be much help otherwise.
The young man came in when William ushered him in from the hallway, but it was clear that the youngster was hesitant to enter the room with Fredrick, Olly, and Talbert.
Fredrick called over, “Come in. Tom, is it? I am Lord Fredrick St Claire, His Grace’s brother. If you have a message for him then leaving it with me is the next best thing.”
Tom relaxed a bit at the mention of the Duke. “Yes, Sir,” Tom said as he shuffled into the room. The youth was skinny and dressed in ill-fitting clothes that were surely hand-me-downs. “Master Foster sent me to let His Grace know that Miss—Her Grace is at the Mason Hall.”
“Say that again,” Fredrick said in astonishment.
