Diana broke free and rushed to his side. “To be fair to Giles, he was a perfect gentleman until I convinced him not to be.”
“She was very persuasive.” That comment earned him a jab in the ribs from her.
“And it was also me who stipulated a long courtship.” She threaded her arm through his, selfless and loyal to the last.
“At least long enough that all the skeletons currently rattling in my cupboard are out of it. Which hopefully won’t be that long.”
“Long!Long!” His friend’s eyes bulged again. “That isn’t good enough, damn it, and I demand satisfaction!”
“Look… so long as the constable doesn’t arrive beforehand to drag me away and send me to Botany Bay, I promise you’ll be first in line to shoot me, so would you mind letting me ride to Presteigne first to find out once and for all whether I am the fraudulent, bastard son of a duke or a bigamist’s legitimate heir?” Giles spread his palms, imploring. “Only this whole estate depends on me, old boy, the sands of time are running out, and I have to find all the answers before my evil uncle Gervais destroys it and steals my ducal ermine. And most especially before he exacts all the pent-up and petulant revenge he harbored for my father and grandfather on the love of my life instead.”
“Diana’s in trouble, too?” Straightaway they all stiffened as their loyalty to her overrode everything else.
“Only by proxy.” He shot her an exasperated look. “And only if she refuses to listen to reason and confesses like she has threatened.”
“To what?”
As Hugh’s expression turned from incensed to baffled, Giles shrugged. “It is a very long and convoluted story, which I can explain on the way if you want to come?” He swung the dented pocket watch he now always wore in the air between them like a pendulum. “Only the clock is ticking, and Diana and I really need to go.”
“So do I,” said Vee, rushing to stand beside them. “We’ve worked too hard and gone too far to fall at the last furlong and we cannot let Gervais win.”
It was late afternoon by the time their two carriages trundled back to Harpenden Hall. Diana and Giles had been forced to travel in separate ones to Presteigne, not so much for propriety’s sake,but more that between them they could bring all the others up to speed. However, once they had searched parish records and discovered that the page that should have listed all the marriages from the winter of 1784 had been torn out, she had been allowed to return in his to console him. Albeit under the beady, furious gazes of Hugh and Minerva.
She had tried to buoy him with the irrefutable facts that now leaned heavily in his favor. First, the rector of St. Andrews bore witness to the fact that the page had been there before he had entrusted the register to a gentleman only hours before they arrived. From his detailed description of his faded blond hair and unusual pale-blue eyes, that gentleman was without a doubt Gervais. Second, if the page had been removed by Gervais then its contents were dangerous to his blatantly unlawful quest to claim Harpenden. And third, there were still the Bishop’s Transcripts, which Mr. Cribbage was racing to the diocese to consult, even though the lawyer wasn’t convinced they were quite as reliable a contingency as Gervais had made out. So all was not lost. She firmly believed that. Giles, on the other hand, was less convinced as he alighted the carriage with his shoulders slumped.
“All I know for certain is that the duke always resented me because he obviously blamed me for killing the love of his life.”
Although that wasn’t his fault, she knew that was probably the truth, too. “What you need is a nice plate of biscuits and some sleep.” Sensing that they needed some space, their chaperones hung back as they walked toward the house. “Then you will see the wood for the trees and the light at the end of the tunnel. We are going to win this, Giles. I promise.”
There was no humor in his halfhearted smile. There wereshadows under his dark eyes. His distracting broad shoulders were slumped, and his gait was heavy. “I just want it over, Diana.”
“I know, and it will be. Soon.”
“My nerves are so frayed that…” He saw Mr. and Mrs. Regis waiting for him at the front door with Mrs. Townsend and groaned. “What the blazes are they still doing here? I told Dalton to send them packing before we left.”
“Did you all enjoy your excursion, Your Grace?” Mr. Regis’s smile was tight at the sight of them arm in arm, then grew tighter still at everyone else spilling out of the carriages and headed their way. “Where is my daughter?”
“How should I know?” Poor Giles had lost the ability to feign politeness.
“But she left with you. Hours ago.”
“As you can plainly see, she did not.” He gestured behind him but did not stop walking. “And in case you are too thick-skinned to see it, now is not a good time for you to be here, either, so kindly pack your bags and go. And please do not come back. I am sure your daughter is a lovely young woman and I feel dreadful that my father let her down by dying but she is not for me, no matter how many times you try to thrust her under my nose.” Giles turned to Mrs. Townsend, who was doing her best to blend into the shrubbery. “Locate Miss Dahlia and then dispatch the lot of them, please. Then bring me biscuits. All the biscuits.”
Diana smiled at them all. “It has been a fraught morning. Mrs. Townsend, could you have some tea brought to the drawing room as soon as you have assisted these lovely people with their packing.”
“We will not be leaving without our daughter!” Mr. Regisbristled with indignation. “I demand to know what you have done with her!”
“Have you checked her room?” Giles was on the cusp of exploding. “Perhaps she has locked herself in there to escape you. I know I would have if I were her!”
“Allow me,” said the housekeeper, clearly eager to escape. Then she promptly scurried up the stairs to do just that while Giles stalked to the drawing room and flung himself on the sofa.
They all filed in behind him and sat in awkward silence until Mrs. Townsend returned with her eyes wide. “I am afraid Miss Regis is gone.”
“Of course she is gone,” said her father. “She left in her riding habit beaming from ear to ear.”
“By gone…” Mrs. Townsend shuffled from foot to foot. “I mean completely gone. The wardrobe is empty and all her clothes are missing… but I did find this.” She held out the letter to Giles, only to have it snatched from her fingers by Mr. Regis.
He scanned it then turned purple and lunged at Giles as if he was going to strangle him. While Jeremiah and Hugh restrained him, Olivia picked up the missive, read it, pulled a face. “Miss Dahlia has gone to Gretna Green with Dalton, where they apparently intend to kill two birds with one stone. They have been in love for months—or so it says here—and are tired of keeping it a secret.”
