Page 65 of A Feud with the Duke

Footsteps within preceded the door being opened. Simon expected to see a servant, instead he saw Harold Clauder. Harold did not appear to be surprised, but merely stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind him. Simon recovered from his own surprise quickly.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“What business is that of yours?” Harold asked.

“You know damn well what business it is!” Simon snapped.

“I know that you demanded a duel in order to obtain satisfaction for your honor. You carried the day. I was humiliated and apologized. I understood the matter to be over.”

“Honor was not satisfied. You forfeited at the request of my sister. You should have stayed to fight like a gentleman.”

Harold laughed. “Gentlemen do not fight. Animals fight. When men do so they become animals. Had you been in the army you would have learned this. Your brother Edward did.”

Simon bared his teeth, face darkening. Anger filled him to bursting point.

How dare he! How dare he mention the name of my brother whose death he brought about!

But there was nothing to be done. To launch himself at Harold’s throat would be to prove his words. It would lead to the two of them brawling on the floor like savages. Simon would not lower himself to this.

I will show him how a true gentleman behaves. I will keep my dignity, though he tries everything he can to rob me of it.

“If it is your intention to attempt to see my sister…”

“It is,” Harold replied coldly.

“Then you will be refused admittance to the house,” Simon replied.

“And will you make a prisoner of your sister as well?” Harold said quietly.

“I do not need to. Already she believes herself abandoned by you. It has been more than two weeks since you saw her in London. I know that she has written to you and I know there has been no reply. Do not pretend to care for her when your actions say otherwise. What happened, was there another woman in London? Has she now seen through you so that you come sniffing after Alice?”

Simon felt triumphant in his knowledge and the anger that drove him on was a righteous one. Harold could deny his involvement in the deaths of Eloise and Edward but he could not deny his own more recent actions. The evidence stood for itself. It took but one day for a message to be carried from London to Lindley, no more than twenty miles from the capital.

He expected Harold to look guilty or outraged that he had been found out. Instead, Harold frowned.

“I wrote many letters to Alice. I received none. That is why I am here.”

CHAPTER40

Something is wrong here. That oaf, Hathway, clearly thought he had scored a point on me with his remark about my abandoning Alice. He must have been monitoring her correspondence to know she had written to me. But, where have my own letters been going? At least seven in the last fourteen days.

The heated exchange with Simon had ended in confusion for both men. Simon, because Harold had not reacted like a philanderer who had been caught out and subsequently denied his latest prey. Harold, because he had believed that if his letters had been intercepted, it would be Simon who would have them.

But that was a genuine reaction on his part. He probably waited for mail addressed to Alice so that he might block anything from me. But there was nothing. Which means someone else has been acting against me. Ruth?

The threat of blackmail had initially given him pause. Not for his own reputation, but for Alice’s. A sense of honor that his blackmailers knew would be important. It was the underpinning factor in their whole scheme. Despite the threats, it hadn’t taken Harold long to decide to write to Alice to explain the situation. They would need to meet in secret in order to defeat the blackmailer’s purpose. When the first letter went unanswered, he had written again. Then again.

Finally, a decision was made to ride to Ardwenshire, south of London. An agent paid an exorbitant sum for the rent of a house near to Lindley. Harold had been planning how to approach Alice when Simon had made his appearance. Now, with Simon gone, the door closed in his face, Harold had reached a decision.

To hell with their blackmail. If they wish to destroy their own sister’s reputation with a scandal, then so be it. I will not let them come between us and if they can bring themselves to such a low act, Alice is better off without them.

The house had been rented in such a hurry that there had been no opportunity to hire staff. Harold had the clothes he had left London in, along with his horse, which grazed on the south-facing lawn at the house’s rear. Now, he saddled her himself and headed in the direction that he understood Lindley Manor to lie in. Two hours had passed since Simon had stormed away. Harold had been tempted to leave immediately but that would involve passing Simon on the road and he did not want to give the headstrong fool an excuse to either lose his own temper or drive Harold to that point.

I will not reduce myself to brawling on the road and I cannot say the same for him. Better to give him time to reach his home, then follow when there is no chance of overtaking him on the road.

Harold’s departure was welcomed by intermittent drops of rain from a sullen sky. The sun was hidden and a stiff breeze stirred the clouds. Before he had ridden half a mile, the spattering had become a steady sleet. Harold wore his top hat and an ulster against such weather. He pulled the brim of the hat low, water dripping off it as he squinted ahead. A sign appeared at a crossroads ahead. It was marked Lindley on an arrow pointing to the left. Ardle Heath to the right. Harold took the left turn.

The road was hard-packed earth in which puddles were now forming, the soil becoming waterlogged and turning to mud. High hedges rose to either side, hemming in fields. Occasional stone farm houses appeared to either side, reached by gated lanes, the entrance to which appeared and then disappeared in the hedges. Harold ignored them, focusing on the path ahead as the buildup of cloud cover made the light dim.

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