Chapter 13

On his return from breakfast, Philip paced his room after a second night of frustration, which burned as bright as his anger. Bloody Tremain had arrived last night. Why Lord Kirkwood allowed his presence here he could not comprehend. But it was Rose he was concerned for. She had not appeared for breakfast for the second morning in a row. Apparently, she was unwell. She had looked very pale and tired the other night and he wanted to see her and assure himself about her state of health.

But Elaine was guarding her like a lioness guarding her cub.

He was not known for his patience but if Rose really wanted to see him, she would have bade Elaine let him enter. He would have to wait. Causing a scene by demanding to see her would not do her reputation any good, and may start rumors that they had reignited their affair.

You could, a little voice on his shoulder urged. He pushed the tantalizing thought away; it was best to leave things as they were.

He sighed and wondered what he would feel when Rose eventually did marry. To watch the only woman he wanted marry another would be a just punishment for causing Robert’s death.

This was going to be a long week, and he still had no idea why he’d come. Perhaps to ensure Rose was not moping but moving on with her life, and to ensure that Tremain didn’t talk Kirkwood into letting him marry Rose. His meeting with Kirkwood yesterday appeased his mind; both men agreed Tremain was not for Rose. Lord Kirkwood was very disappointed in his decision not to offer for Rose, especially when Philip kept his reasons to himself. He decided that once he’d seen Rose and ensured she was not really ill, he would leave.

He’d promised to spend some time with Drake before he did leave. There was to be a treasure hunt today but the weather had turned rather nasty. He looked out the window at the heavy rain falling and realized it was not the day to be outside. Especially if Rose was unwell.

Just then Wilson knocked and entered with his pressed trousers. “Lord Kirkwood’s butler says to inform you the treasure hunt will be held in the house. With over one hundred rooms, it’s almost the same size as the grounds.”

“I thought as much. Not much else to do on a day like today. It’s preferable to charades. Can you imagine Lady Pothers trying to mime?”

Wilson nodded. “I will try and think of a reason to call for you should you ever be stuck playing charades.”

Philip smiled. “I should double your pay, my good man.”

On that jovial note he made his way downstairs to mix with the other guests before the instructions were given out.

He met Portia and Grayson in the hall and together they made their way to the drawing room.

“Have you spoken to Rose this morning?” he asked.

“I popped in briefly. She’s still under the weather. Tired from her journey.”

His sister’s chirpy reply allayed some of his fear. “Are you sure she’s not dangerously ill?”

Portia laughed this time and his fear slipped away. “Why, brother dear, it almost sounds as if you are worried.”

“Of course I’m worried.”

“Portia, please do not harass your brother,” was all Grayson would say before striding off to walk in front of them.

“Sorry, Philip, that was rather mean of me.” Portia put her hand through his arm as they walked. “Rose is fine. More than fine, and she’ll talk with you when she’s ready.”

“I was hoping to talk with her in private before we faced the other guests. I don’t want there to be any awkwardness.”

“I’m pretty sure she has more to think about than how the guests will perceive the two of you.” Portia giggled.

“What are you not telling me, sister dear? I know you. You are far too gleeful this morning, given Rose’s illness.”

That made Portia giggle more.

“If I don’t get an answer I’m turning around and going straight to Rose’s room, decorum be damned.”

Philip was about to turn around when he spied movement on the stairs below. Rose was there, holding Drake’s hand, greeting Grayson. She looked beautiful as usual. Her hair was pulled back in an intricate pattern, winding around her head with curly wisps floating around her face like little fairies. She looked ethereal. The delicate lines of her face emphasized her high cheekbones, and although she still looked pale, her eyes flashed with warmth and humor, and the worry holding his muscles tight eased.

When she saw him the warmth in her eyes deepened and a fire lit. It took all his self-control not to step forward and pull her into his arms. He returned her smile, while bowing low over her hand.

“Your Grace, a pleasure to see you as always.”

He could sense those in the drawing room straining to hear the interaction.

Rose surprised him by taking his arm and leading him into the room. “Lord Cumberland, I hope you and your family are well. How is your mother? Did you have a happy Christmas?”

As they conversed the other guests grew bored and settled into their own conversations.

Philip wanted to ask her more intimate questions, like how she was feeling. She was still very pale, but before he could, Lord Kirkwood called for silence. He began putting everyone into teams for the treasure hunt.

“I have broken the group into three teams and I’ve tried to make it fair. At least one person who is familiar with my house in each team.”

Philip barely listened as Kirkwood prattled on. He kept looking at the woman sitting beside him with her son, and wished that he’d been a better man. If he had only made better decisions, Robert would never have gone to war and he wouldn’t feel as if he were suffocating under a mantle of guilt so heavy it was a wonder his shoulders did not break.

Through his painful memories he heard Rose’s name being called. Was Kirkwood trying to annoy him? She was in a group that comprised Tremain and Grayson. At least his friend would keep an eye on her.

Then he heard his name. He was paired with Drake and Henry. He inwardly smiled. He would enjoy this rainy-day game. Drake knew every inch of this house. With Kirkwood as his guardian the boy spent many a holiday here. Philip loved to win and he was sure the boys would find the treasure.

The treasure hunt was a list of riddles. If you found the answer to the first riddle you got the next riddle and so on until you found the ultimate prize.

Riddle one went like this…

Find me with some bars so neat

I stop open flight but not a tweet

When you find me you will admire

My structure made of sculptured wire

“That one is easy,” Drake pronounced. “It’s—”

Philip clamped a hand over his mouth, saying, “Don’t make it too easy for the others. We want to win.”

Drake nodded his head.

“Let’s go into the dining room and we can talk freely.”

The boys raced on ahead of him so excited. He looked across at Rose and saw her stand on tiptoes and whisper in Grayson’s ear. She, too, knew this house. It made him smile seeing how excited she was.

Once in the dining room, Drake, almost bursting with impatience, said, “It’s a birdcage.”

Henry squealed. “That’s it. You’re so clever, Drake.”

The boys made to rush off.

“But which birdcage? There is more than one,” Philip said.

“That’s why we need to start moving. There are many to check.”

“But why don’t we think for a few moments and try to work out which cage it might be and start there?” Philip suggested.

The boys nodded at his words. Soon they began discussing where, if they were Lord Kirkwood, they would hide the next clue. It couldn’t be too hard as it was simply the beginning of the hunt. It also wouldn’t be too easy or everyone would arrive at the second clue at the same time.

They decided to start not in the orangery like most of the guests would but at Lord Kirkwood’s favorite birdcage, the one in his study. It contained a pair of yellow canaries.

They guessed right. The two boys could barely contain themselves when they realized they were the first to receive the second riddle.

A pile of words

Jackets of hordes

Take a quick look

In the place of the book

“The treasure hunt will be over in no time if the riddles are this easy,” Henry said.

“Come on, let’s hurry. I can hear someone coming.”

As Drake flung open the door there stood Rose. A smile crossed her lips when she saw her son and widened upon seeing Philip.

“You three will make an indelible team, but watch out. We are close behind.”

And on the word behind Tremain came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist and ushered her into the study. Philip’s jealousy rose swiftly and fiercely. His hand began to curl into a fist, ready to smash into Tremain’s face when it suddenly occurred to him that he had no right. For all he knew Rose welcomed Tremain’s attentions.

He quickly stepped back out of the pair’s way and followed the boys, who sidestepped Grayson and took off toward the library.

Soon the clues led them from the bottom of the house to the top of the house and back down again. Almost two hours later and the current riddle was making the three of them think.

Up and down, and up and down

you climb these every day.

You’ve likely seen the clue on these,

but passed it anyway.

The boys understood the riddle meant the stairs, but the riddle also said they had been walking up and down them the last two hours. They had never seen the next clue.

He let the boys ponder on this. To him it was either the attic stairs or the servants’ stairs. The boys decided to split up. Henry would take the servants’ stairs and Drake would slip up past the nursery to the attic stairs. Philip chose to wait there on the third floor landing. From there he could catch sight of the other guests as they searched. He couldn’t help wanting to catch glimpses of Rose.

He leaned farther over the banister as he spotted the trio coming out of one of the bedchambers that held the ninth clue. They were a bit behind. A smile engulfed him as he noted how Rose stepped to the other side of Grayson so that Tremain was not near her.

He had just stepped back in case she looked up and glimpsed him spying on her, when a high-pitched scream filled the air.

Drake.

Philip took off at a sprint up the stairs, and as he came to the bottom of the attic steps his heart jumped into his mouth and the blood in his veins struggled to flow as it turned to ice.

He raced to the prone form and only breathed once he saw Drake was still alive and simply had had the wind knocked out of him. It looked as if the lad had fallen down the stairs. He had hit his head and the skin had split but Drake appeared to be more shocked than anything. He scooped him up in his arms and made his way down to the landing where many concerned faces greeted him. When Rose saw Drake she gave a cry and crumbled to the floor in a dead faint. Philip cursed under his breath.

Grayson, thank goodness, got to her first, leaving Tremain scowling. His friend scooped up Rose, and the two of them pushed through all the concerned guests to make their way to Rose’s chambers.

Kirkwood was right behind him as he laid the still-crying Drake on the bed next to Rose. He was calling for his mother.

“Keep everyone out of here, and George, fetch the doctor,” Kirkwood ordered.

“He’s downstairs, my lord. He was to see Her Grace this afternoon.”

Philip’s eyes immediately went to Rose’s form lying on the bed beside her son. She was stirring. Her face was more pale than yesterday, if that was possible.

“What happened?” Kirkwood barked at him.

He turned to face his lordship. “I’m not sure. The boy was checking the stairs near the attic and then I heard him scream. It looks like he’s fallen down the attic stairs. I found him at the bottom.”

“Why weren’t you with him? Why did you let him out of your sight?”

Kirkwood’s words echoed the words said to him by his father as a young boy when he’d lost Portia, and that familiar feeling of guilt and worthlessness hit him.

Rose lifted her head and sent a cursory glance at Kirkwood. “It’s only an accident, my lord. A small boy cannot be watched every minute of the day.”

Rose’s defense of his actions made him feel even worse. He should have taken more care.

When Kirkwood began arguing with Rose, Grayson pulled at his arm and they left the room.

The doctor saw to Drake first; Rose had insisted.

The little boy was shaken and for some reason did not want to go back to the treasure hunt.

She sent the doctor downstairs to have a cup of tea while she talked to him. She still needed the doctor to examine her to confirm what she already knew. She was with child.

Once mother and son were alone, he flung himself into her arms and began to cry.

“What is the matter, Drake? Are you hurting? Is it your arm? Your leg?”

He merely shook his head.

“What is it, sweetheart? How did you trip?”

“I didn’t trip.” He pulled out of her embrace to look at her, and his face was full of fear. “Someone pushed me.”

Her hand tightened on her son’s shoulder, pulling him close once more as rage and fear in equal mix engulfed her.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I was checking the attic stairs and when I reached the top the door was open. So I went into the attic but could not find a clue, and as I turned to go back down the stairs, and run back to Lord Cumberland, I felt a hand at my back. Before I could turn my head, the hand shoved me and I was falling.”

Rose immediately called out for Elaine, who was hovering nearby. “Fetch Lord Cumberland for me, please. No one else, you understand?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

She kissed Drake’s head and asked once more with hope that the boy was wrong, “You are not imagining this and you didn’t simply trip?”

“No, Mother.”

The fear in her son’s eyes made her stomach crawl. Drake was not one for making up fancies.

“We shall get to the bottom of this. I promise.” And she let him cuddle against her.

Soon there was a knock and Philip was there, concern evident in his face.

“Without letting Kirkwood or any of the guests know, can you go and check the attic for me?” At Philip’s questioning look, she told him, “Drake says someone pushed him down the stairs.”

Horror etched its way across Philip’s handsome face. “I’ll look right this instant.” With that he left the room, striding for the stairs.

She had never loved him more than in that moment. He had not told her that the boy was being fanciful or not believed Drake’s version of the events.

Elaine arrived back with some warm chocolate for Drake, who was still very shaken up, and a cup of tea and a scone for her. She was still feeling queasy herself.

They did not have to wait long. Philip was back but it was obvious he did not wish to talk in front of Drake. Her arms went around her child. She did not want to let him out of her sight.

Elaine looked between them. “Why don’t I take Drake to find Henry? His friend is very worried about him. I shall suggest Lord Coldhurst watch them both.”

“Thank you, Elaine.”

“Do I have to go, Mother? Can’t I stay here with you?”

Just then Henry and Lord Coldhurst stuck their heads around the door.

“Sorry, Your Grace. Henry would not wait to see if his friend was all right.”

Philip crossed to Sebastian and whispered, “Can you take the boy with you and watch over him? It seems trouble is afoot.”

Sebastian called to Drake, “Why don’t you come and play with Henry and me? Since the treasure hunt has been called off, we are building a battlefield with toy soldiers and horses in the nursery. I can teach you both about strategy.”

Drake looked tentatively at his mother before nodding and slipping off the bed.

He gave Rose one last lingering look and that was when the fear eating her guts was replaced by anger. How dare anyone scare her son like this, let alone harm him?

She waited for the door to close before turning to Philip. “What did you find?”

Instead of answering her he approached the bed and sat on the edge next to her. He took her hand in his. “How are you is more to the point? At least you have some color back in your cheeks.”

She looked away, hiding tears. She wanted to scream that she was feeling incredibly ill and that seeing him here and not being able to touch him, kiss him, and then Drake being hurt—It was all too much. “I’m fine. Please, just tell me.”

On a sigh Philip brushed a curl off her face and said, “The dust on the floor just inside the door to the attic showed Drake’s small boot prints and a large set of footprints, too. Whoever went up there was not looking through the trunks, though. The prints only went in partway, far enough to allow him, or her, to hide behind a crate.”

Her breath caught and strangled in her throat. Finally, she choked out, “Are you saying someone was lying in wait up there?”

Philip rubbed his nape. “It looks like it, but it might not have been Drake they were waiting for. How was the person up there to know Drake would go looking in the attic? Drake was there purely by chance. It could have been Henry or one of the other guests. The person hiding in the attic could have been waiting for anyone. What if he had been expecting someone else and he simply made a mistake?”

The knots of tension in her neck eased. “I suppose.”

“Besides, who would want to harm a little boy? Especially a duke. No one benefits.” He swung toward her. “Do they?”

Rose thought hard for a moment. The title would obviously die away as there were no male heirs in the Deverill family outside Drake, but the estates and money would go to her. That was the marriage contract and will her father had insisted on. He was not giving his only daughter to an old man who would die long before her without giving her protection. Her father at least thought about her financial well-being if not her physical one.

“You are correct. No one benefits but me. With no male other than Drake, the title dies and I inherit everything.”

“Then I think we should keep an eye on the boy but think about who the real target might have been.” He stood and looked down at her and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Or was he happy to move on?

She pushed up off the bed, willing her stomach to stop rolling. “Thank you. Thank you for caring about Drake.”

He stood motionless, just looking at her, and she grew hot under his gaze. Finally, he said, “I care about both of you. Are you well?”

Euphoria at his concern swamped her body and pushed the nausea away. “I’m fine, Philip. I was simply a little tired.”

He took a hard look at her. She must not have looked too weary because he smiled and said, “I should get back to the others. I’ll talk with Sebastian and Grayson and set the men to looking into this incident.”

“Thank you. Before you go I was wondering if we could take a walk in the orangery after dinner tonight. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” His face took on a guarded look and her courage began to falter.

“Can we not discuss it now?”

She shook her head. “You’ve already been in my bedchamber too long. Tongues will begin to talk if you do not appear downstairs shortly.”

He nodded. “Of course. I would hate to have gossips get the wrong idea of our meeting here.”

His words kicked her in the stomach, and the nausea she’d tried to keep at bay began to rise. She needed him to leave. “Of course.” She stood and fought the wave of dizziness. “Shall we say ten in the orangery, then?” And she guided him toward the door, practically pushing him into the hall.

“Certainly. I shall slip away and meet you at ten.” He hesitated in the doorway. “Are you sure you are all right? You’ve gone awfully pale again.”

“I just want to go and find Drake and reassure myself he is not still scared. I want him to know I’m here for him and I’d never let anyone hurt him.” Philip had to go now or she’d throw up all over his boots.

“I’ll find the men and we shall start our investigation. But be assured, Drake will be protected at all times. It pays to be careful.”

It was rude, she knew, but she merely said, “Thank you,” and shut the door in his face as she turned and ran for the chamber pot.