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Had she actually succeeded? Could it be possible? The villagers were helping the boy away. Relief flooded through her. Now there would be no violence, and she and West could go back to the castle, and…

“Oh, well played, Lady March. Well played indeed.” A sneering voice spoke from the darkness.

There was a stir as someone pushed forward through the ranks of soldiers. Colonel Brown scowled as he was forced out of the way.

Mr. Townley rode into the light.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Well, well, well. Lady March.” Townley was smirking. “Out for a ride in the black of night? Just happened to appear in time to complain of the treatment of this... scum? But then, I suppose it is not surprising to find you sympathizing with rebels and criminals.”

She tried to answer, but her mouth was dry. Her throat had closed. She couldn’t make a sound.

Mounted on a big chestnut gelding, his coat open, his head bare and his red face shining sweatily in the torchlight, Townley gave her a contemptuous smirk. “You must be enjoying this little riot.” He snorted. “Disgraceful. Well, since you refuse to restore order here, I will. My men will disperse this rabble with as much force as required. Perhaps a little more.”

His men? The colonel shifted in his saddle and frowned. Some of the officers exchanged quick glances.

No matter how frightened she was, she must manage to speak. She couldn’t let her fear of him rob her of her voice. “There”—her voice was a whisper. She struggled to clear her throat. “There is no riot here.”

“What is that? Speak up.” He cupped a hand to his ear, smirking. “Nothing? Apparently you are not as bold as you are in print.” He tilted his head back and took a deep breath. “Well, well. It is a new day, Lady March. Things in this country are about to change. Disorder will no longer be tolerated.”

How dare he address her this way? He must have been drinking. Behind him, soldiers were exchanging uneasy glances. But Townley was enjoying himself too much to notice. “Of course, the duke had plans to make Castle March a model of labor reforms. How very heartwarming! He would have been interested to know that Castle March will become an example—though of course, not in the way that he planned. And by the way, I will be taking the boy.” He made a sharp gesture to the soldiers.

Why was he speaking of West as though he were… gone? Had something happened? She must focus, even though her voice was still half-strangled. “I did not realize that you were the one who gave the orders to detain this boy, Mr. Townley. I thought that giving orders was the job of a commanding officer. But perhaps I am wrong?”

Her voice was coming out more clearly now. The glee faded from Townley’s expression. “Lady March, if you do not get out of the way this instant, I shall have you arrested too.”

“Arrest me?” She tilted her head to one side and smiled indulgently at him as though he’d said something amusing. “Dear Mr. Townley! I think that we all simply need some rest. I hope that you will not take it amiss when I observe that you seem rather… overset.”

She meant “drunk.” And everyone knew it. A few of the solders struggled to suppress smiles.

Townley’s expression was thunderous. “How dare you, you little”—

“Begging your pardon, sir.” Colonel Brown interrupted. “But you are addressing a duchess.”

Townley stopped short. “Duchess? Duchess? This… this disgraceful bluestocking with her self-sufficient manner? Duchess indeed! She has never been anything but an odiously pert female! Ask her what really occupies her time! Nonsense that rots the minds of women and keeps them from their duties! Ghosts! Black magic! Bastard children! Murder! Haunted castles! Walking skeletons! Trash! Trash!”

Pomona’s entire body went cold with shock. Townley had exposed her secret. She would be a laughingstock.

Only… nobody was laughing. The soldiers exchanged shocked looks. Even by torchlight she could see that the angry red color had drained from Colonel Brown’s face. He glanced at one of his lieutenants and swallowed visibly. “I see, sir. Of course. Walking skeletons. Ghosts. Quite so.” He spoke carefully, as though humoring a child.

Some of the soldiers were shaking their heads. What was happening? One man caught another’s eye, nodded toward Townley, pointed at his temple and made a circling motion with his finger. Townley caught sight it. His face twisted with fury. “How dare you! This… this little… I have told you what she is!” His voice had a hysterical edge. “Colonel! Arrest this woman! And… and court martial that soldier!”

Pomona’s heart was pounding. She’d wanted only to live quietly and write… and now West would be dragged into the scandal too...

But the colonel didn’t move. “Arrest the duchess, sir? On what charge?”

“Treason! Sedition!” Townley waved his arms. “Fomenting a riot!”

At that moment there was a stir in the crowd behind her and the slow clip-clop of a horse at a walk. “Ah. Townley." It was West. "What a surprise, finding you here.”

She thought that she might burst into tears of relief. But Townley was staring past her. His face sagged in shock. “But—but you are… I saw…”

“Dear me! You look as though you had seen a ghost." West’s voice was an amused drawl. "Really, Townley. It cannot be healthy for your mind to indulge in all this superstition.”

Some of the soldiers were openly snickering. Townley’s mouth worked for a moment. “This… this…” He raised a trembling hand to point at Pomona. “She causes trouble wherever she goes! This is all her fault!”

“Mr. Townley. I have already made it clear to you that I will not tolerate your disrespect toward the duchess.” West brought his horse level with hers. “I am now forced to offer you a meeting at your earliest convenience, so that we may settle this matter as gentlemen.”