Page 55 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

Louisa herself could not say positively or negatively whether the laugh she heard or the coat and shadow she saw might have belonged to Lord Ashbourne, remembering him only vaguely from their brief meetings at Huxley Manor in previous years. Her lack of conviction stemmed not so much in a belief in Lord Ashbourne’s good character as the difficulty in believing that anyone really meant her ill.

“It is very strange and yet I do fear it it is true, Louisa,” sighed her aunt. “I never really believed in Lord Ashbourne’s partiality to you until now. If I am honest, I supposed him a confirmed bachelor and assumed he only pretended an interest in courting you to satisfy his cousin. Lady Huxley has always wished him to settle down and become a family man.”

“Well, if you believe that he was our trespasser, then I must trust your judgement, Aunt Beatrice,” Louisa said after some thought. “What ought I to do about it?”

“Only stay away from the Huxley estate and from Lord Ashbourne,” the older woman warned her. “It should not be hard. With the Duke of Northwick and the Duke of Wexford on hand, it would make no sense at all for Lord Ashbourne to make a further nuisance of himself.”

“But what about the engagement party?” Louisa pointed out. “How can I avoid him if he comes with Lady Huxley?”

“I have already written to Lady Huxley and told her that under the circumstances, they are no longer invited,” Aunt Beatrice told her.

Louisa leaned over and kissed her aunt on the cheek.

“Thank you, Aunt Beatrice. You have always kept me safe.”

The silver-haired lady put a hand over Louisa’s and regarded her niece with affectionate sadness.

“I have always done my best, Louisa. That is also why I must say something else to you now, given the situation with Huxley Manor and all that I have learned of Lord Ashbourne. I know that you have spoken before of continuing to live here at Rosemere after your wedding, with the duke visiting regularly…”

“Lots of married couples live in such arrangements,” Louisa said, hearing the doubt in her aunt’s voice and thinking to reassure her. “It is perfectly proper, and I should not care what gossips say of us in any case.”

“Nor I,” replied her aunt. “However, I fear that you might be safer if moved away from here, Louisa. Go far away with your husband, to somewhere that Lord Ashbourne will never visit, like Northwick. I could not keep you by my side, knowing that you were in a place of danger.”

“Leave Rosemere?!” responded Louisa in a choked voice, “I could never leave Rosemere! No, it surely cannot be that bad, can it? Lord Ashbourne cannot be that bad?”

Aunt Beatrice patted her niece’s hand as Louisa’s speechless dismay threatened to translate into tears. Leaving her beloved home was a terrible prospect, especially when she had already lost so much.

Yet, whatever happened, at least Louisa would not be alone. This thought came to her from nowhere and the idea of the Duke of Northwick at her side was unexpectedly comforting. Louisa’s heart would always be at Rosemere, of course, but life at Northwick would not be unbearable, and Louisa had just as much confidence as Aunt Beatrice in Benedict’s ability to keep her safe.

“Some men are far worse than you can know yet, my dear,” Lady Esher said softly, watching the succession of different expressions crossing her niece’s face, “just as others are far better.”

Louisa nodded.

Yes, I am beginning to learn that…

While his friend took his turn at the billiard table, Benedict read again through the long letter Damien had received that morning. The two men had gone to the games room to continue the conversation that Louisa’s arrival had interrupted at breakfast.

“When I wrote and asked old Gerry to discreetly look into the Earl of Ashbourne, I was hoping he would tell us that the man was a harmless crank,” Damien confessed. “I wanted to put your mind at rest, but this reply changes everything, doesn’t it? Gerry’s a reliable fellow and very well-connected, as you know. I see no reason to doubt anything he reports.”

Benedict nodded.

“If I brought a court case, do you think any of the witnesses your friend spoke to might be willing to give evidence?” Benedict speculated.

“Maybe, at least those gentlemen he threatened with a knife in Boodle’s. That’s what got him blackballed there in the end, although his behavior was already raising eyebrows. White’s turned him down years ago and no other club will have him now. Nor will any better class of bawdy house.”

“What about the other incidents? Who was the owner of that brothel where he half killed one of her girls because he didn’t like her having other clients?”

“Madame de la Caravel doesn’t like getting the law involved,” Damien said, straightening up and shaking his head. "It’s bad for business. She’s satisfied enough that her bouncers worked him over and he’s banned from every brothel she knows in Chelsea.”

“Well, what about the street girl who was with him when he stabbed that pickpocket?”

“Gerry said she was absolutely terrified. It took money, gin and the moral support of two of her colleagues to get that story out of her in the first place. It certainly casts a new light on the newspaper story at the time about Lord Ashbourne bravely fighting off a ruffian would-be thief.”

“Stabbing to death an unarmed youth who tried to take his wallet doesn’t sound half as brave does it,” noted Benedict grimly.

‘Twenty times Lord Ashbourne stabbed that lad, Benedict,” Damien specified, his face and tone both very troubled. “No wonder the girl went half out of her mind after seeing it.”

“Vicious bastard,” swore Benedict. “Well, I’ll write to Gerry’s friends at Boodle’s, and see whether they’re prepared to be involved in legal action…”