If the future king of England thought the Duke of Monsale was going to be an easy target, he was in for one hell of a shock.
He doubted the residents of Tucker’s Town, Bermuda would ever forget the night that the guns of one of His Majesties frigates, were let loose upon the rough, shanty town, reducing it to rubble.
But since that day, when a young Monsale had stood on the deck watching the fires of his revenge light up the night sky, he had learned to steady his hand. To find darker, more secretive ways to bring his enemies down.
Committing treason against the British crown was not something that even a duke undertook without a great deal of concern for its bloody repercussions.
“Please let it be something else, something which I can control,” he muttered.
Lady Naomi Steele’s words slipped back into his mind
You have a duty to make sure that the sixteenth Duke of Monsale is born and the title continues.
If it came down to a fight against the powers that be, he might well have to bend, to stop from breaking. It went against everything he had ever done, but his loyalty to the McNeal family was all that truly mattered. The line must be preserved.
Chapter Three
It took the better part of two days for the combined resources of the RR Coaching Company and his own select network of spies for Monsale to finally get an answer to the pressing problem of the Prince of Wales.
Late in the afternoon a knock came at the door of his study. Adan stepped into the room. “Lord Harry Steele, Sir Stephen Moore, and the Honorable George Hawkins,” he announced.
Monsale rose from his desk as the remaining London-based members of the rogues of the road filed into the room. Adan closed the door behind him and locked it.
“Your grace. The moment I received word from my connection at Carlton House, I immediately sent for these gentlemen to attend you,” he announced.
This doesn’t look good. I might be sailing for Spain tonight.
The news must be dire for his steward to have gone ahead and arranged this meeting without his prior notice.
I could always sail on to Rome. I’ve always wanted to see the Vatican and the ancient Roman ruins. The Colosseum is meant to be quite the sight.
If he was going to have to flee England, he had better settle on an immediate destination. Once safe, he could then take his time to decide where he might like to begin a new life. He had managed to do that once before; there was no reason why he couldn’t do it again.
Yes, but you left behind little more than memories when you gave up Bermuda.
He’d had almost twenty years to put down roots in the land of his forefathers. Time in which he had restored the family fortunes and rebuilt much of Monsale Castle. Leaving his ancestral home would cause him soul deep pain.
Not to mention the woman who regularly filled his dreams.
While his friends all settled themselves on chairs and sofas, Monsale took up a spot perched on the end of his desk. He twiddled nervously with the gold signet ring on his left hand. If his friends did happen to notice his uncharacteristic discomfort, they wisely said nothing. It was a small blessing, and he was grateful for it.
Monsale leveled his steward with a sharp glare. “Don’t keep me in suspense any longer. Whatever it is, just put me out of my bloody misery. Then I can start to formulate a plan,” he snapped.
Adan shot him a disapproving look. The old man had served the previous duke for many years; William McNeal had not been one for foul oaths or wicked living. Then again, Monsale didn’t have much of an opinion of his late uncle. Considering the terrible condition of the Monsale estate when he had come into his inheritance, it was clear the late duke hadn’t been one for much of anything. He hadn’t even managed to secure the hand and dowry of a wife.
The steward cleared his throat and addressed the gathering. “Your grace, my lords, gentlemen. Let me take you on a journey into the dim and distant past. All the way back to the month of August in the year of our lord, twelve hundred and seventeen. Six hundred years ago.”
Sir Stephen groaned. “This is going to take some time, isn’t it? I knew I should have eaten more at breakfast. Bridget is always telling young Toby, that the first meal of the day is the most important. I should do as my little brother does and heed her advice.”
Monsale softly chuckled. Trust Stephen to find a way to cut through the tension in the room. “I promise to feed you all, before I make a run for the continent,” he replied.
“For those of you who don’t know your history, the deeply unpopular King John had sat on the English throne until late the previous year. During the latter part of his reign the barons and other nobles revolted,” continued Adan.
Monsale’s ears pricked up. I know this part.
“And the McNeal family sided with the barons,” said Monsale.
His father might well have neglected him, but James had gone to great pains to ensure that his son received as best an education as could be provided on the island. He was always on the lookout for good tutors; and was not above kidnapping the odd one if he felt they had the skills to teach the young Andrew something of value.
