Danger to the Duke Read online

He stepped out of the chaise and having rung the front door bell he waited until it was opened by an elderly man wearing the white collar of a parson.

  “I believe, sir, you must be the Vicar of this parish,” he began.

  “I am indeed,” answered the Vicar, “and I was wondering who could be calling as I was not expecting anyone.”

  “In which case I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but I would be extremely grateful if you would marry me to the lady I have with me and I have here a Special Licence.”

  He held it out to the Vicar as he spoke.

  “Well, this is certainly a surprise,” he exclaimed. “I have not performed a marriage by Special Licence for a very long time.”

  “There are reasons why Miss Crawley and I wish to get married as soon as possible,” Michael told him.

  “Perhaps you will have heard of my future wife’s father, Lord Crawley, who was a great archaeologist and explorer.”

  “Yes, indeed I have,” said the Vicar. “I remember the excitement when he discovered that tomb in Egypt. That of course was a long time ago and I expect you were only a small boy at the time.”

  He looked again at the Special Licence.

  “As you have been travelling, would Miss Crawley like to come in and rest? It will take a little time for me to arrange for you to be married in the Church.”

  “That is most kind of you, sir.”

  “Take your horses to the stable,” suggested the Vicar,

  “and you will find a man there who will give them food and water while they wait.”

  “That is an excellent idea and I am very grateful.”

  Michael went to the chaise and said to Adela,

  “The Vicar has asked you to go in and tidy yourself before our wedding. I am sure it is something you would like to do.”

  “But of course,” agreed Adela readily.

  She jumped out of the chaise and picking up her bag which had been lying in front of her, she carried it into the house.

  The Vicar had gone to fetch his wife who arrived a moment later. She was a kindly woman with grey hair and was delighted at the idea of an unexpected wedding.

  “Of course you will wish to tidy yourself,” she said to Adela. “Come upstairs with me, my dear.”

  Michael drove the horses to the stables which were quite easy to find and a middle-aged man, who said he had been with the Vicar for several years, promised to look after them.

  Michael walked slowly back to the Vicarage.

  He was finding it hard to believe that what had happened was not just a story from a book.

  Had he really been able to kill Agni who had been responsible for so many British deaths in India?

  He was the Number One enemy to all the players in the Great Game and Michael knew his death was something he must inform the Viceroy about as soon as it was possible to do so.

  He thought when he reached London he would go to the Indian Office and notify the Marquis in code through the special cable which was available now to all parts of the Empire.

  Now ahead of him loomed a new problem.

  To tidy up Grangemoore Hall, which should not be too difficult now that Cyril was dead.

  He pondered again how incredibly fortunate he had been that he had found Adela just when he needed her.

  He not only loved her as he had never loved a woman in his whole life, but she had been instrumental in saving his life.

  ‘I am indeed the luckiest man in the world,’ Michael told himself as he opened the Vicar’s door.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Adela went upstairs with the Vicar’s wife, taking her bundle with her.

  When she was shown into a bedroom, she said,

  “I think, if you do not mind, I will change. I have brought a white dress with me and I feel I should be married in white.”

  “Of course you must,” agreed the Vicar’s wife. “And I suppose you have a veil.

  Adela shook her head.

  “No. I have nothing because we came away in such a hurry.”

  “You eloped!” exclaimed the Vicar’s wife, clasping her hands together. “How very romantic!”

  Adela thought it best not to contradict her and started to undo her bundle. She took out the white muslin gown she had worn at home when she had dined with her father.

  It was plain but very pretty and when she put it on she hoped that Michael, as she was now beginning to think of him, would admire her in it.

  The Vicar’s wife buttoned up the back and then she opened her wardrobe.

  “I have my own wedding-veil,” she said, “and a wreath of orange blossom.”

  She looked on the top shelf of her wardrobe and brought them down.

  “I have been keeping them until my eldest daughter grows up,” she explained, “and I hope she will wear them at her wedding.”

  “If you will lend them to me for my wedding, I would be exceedingly grateful, I promise I will be very careful of them.”

  “You will look lovely in them, my dear.”

  She helped Adela place the veil over her head and the wreath on top.

  When Adela looked at herself in the mirror she knew she really did look like a bride.

  ‘I ought to have a bouquet,’ she thought to herself, but did not say so aloud.

  It all took a little time, but the Vicar’s wife assured her that there was no hurry.

  “My husband will have to collect the Verger to open the Church for him and, of course, he will have to be a witness to your marriage and I will be the other one.”

  She smiled before she added,

  “Actually I will play the organ.”

  “That will be so lovely,” sighed Adela. “It would not seem right to be married without any music.”

  When finally they were ready, they walked downstairs and found Michael waiting for them alone.

  As the Vicar’s wife had expected, her husband had gone to find the Verger.

  “Now what I am sure you would both like,” she suggested, “is a cup of tea. I imagine it is some time since you had luncheon.”

  “Yes, it is,” answered Michael, “and a cup of tea would be delicious.”

  She departed from the room leaving them alone and Michael held out his arms.

  “Is it true, really true we are going to be married?”

  Adela asked.

  “You will make a perfect bride. You look exactly as I want you to look.”

  There was no need to say anymore.

  He kissed her and carried on kissing her until they heard the Vicar’s wife coming back with the tea.

  They were enjoying some hot buttered toast and slices of Madeira cake when the Vicar reappeared.

  “Everything is arranged,” he said, “and I have brought you this.”

  He held out a bunch of white flowers arranged as a bouquet.

  Adela gave a little cry of pleasure.

  “How very kind of you!” she exclaimed. “I was wishing when I was upstairs that I had a bouquet and your wife has so kindly lent me a veil and wreath.”

  “Now you look exactly as a bride should look,”

  insisted the Vicar.

  He sat down at the table with his cup of tea.

  Michael did not like to hurry him and time was therefore moving on when eventually they walked from the Vicarage through the garden and into the churchyard.

  The Church door was open and the Verger was waiting for them and whilst he was being introduced to them by the Vicar, his wife slipped into the Church.

  As they entered Adela could hear the organ playing and they had to wait a little while the Vicar went ahead to put on his surplice.

  Then they walked up the aisle hand in hand and stood in front of him.

  Six candles had been lit on the altar and the evening sun was streaming through the stained glass windows.

  Adela thought it was all incredibly beautiful and the service itself was inspiring.

  Michael made his responses in a firm voice, which told her he was making sure she
was really to become his wife.

  She prayed fervently that she would make him happy and when they knelt for the blessing she felt that God had already blessed them.

  They had found each other and although they had passed through dangerous moments, Michael and she had survived.

  ‘I love him, I adore him. Please God, allow me to make him happy and do not let him ever regret having married me.’

  It was a prayer that came from the very depths of Adela’s heart.

  When they rose to their feet, the Vicar said to Michael,

  “Now you may kiss the bride.”

  It was a very gentle kiss and Adela sensed that it was a reverent one.

  Just as she had been inspired by the service, Michael had been too.

  She was certain he was praying that their marriage would endure and that they would love each other forever.

  They signed the Register and then returned to the Vicarage.

  To her surprise the Vicar insisted they should drink a glass of champagne, so that he could wish them both health and happiness.

  Adela was very touched by his gesture and she had the feeling that he had been keeping the champagne for some special occasion in his own life.

  By this time the afternoon was over and the shadows were lengthening.

  Michael went to fetch the chaise and Adela took off her wreath and veil and thanked the Vicar’s wife profusely for lending them to her.

  She did not put on a coat over her white dress and the Vicar’s wife asked her,

  “Don’t you think you might be cold, my dear?”

  “I don’t think we are going very far,” replied Adela.

  As Michael had not mentioned they were going to stay at the Fox and Goose, she did not do so.

  When she came downstairs the chaise was waiting at the door.

  She kissed the Vicar’s wife goodbye and thanked the Vicar for marrying them and because he was thanking Michael heartily, she guessed he had made a very generous contribution for the Church.

  They drove away and as they moved through the centre of the village Michael remarked,

  “I did not tell them we were going to stay at the Fox and Goose. Did you?”

  “No, I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”

  “We could go further on, but I think we are both feeling tired, having not been to bed last night.”

  “I am too happy to be tired,” sighed Adela.

  Michael smiled at her and drove into the courtyard at the back of the inn.

  The proprietor came hurrying out.

  “Well, it’s a real surprise to see you both again, Mr.Morris. But I’m delighted you have come back.”

  Michael got out of the chaise and the man who had looked after them before took the horses’ heads.

  “We have come a long way,” Michael said to him, “and they need a comfortable night’s rest.”

  “And that’s what they’ll have, sir,” replied the man.

  Michael and Adela walked into the inn as the proprietor’s wife came rushing out of the kitchen.

  “Bless me, but I never expected to see you two again, but I’m very glad you’re here.”

  “We are here and we have something to tell you,” answered Michael. “We have just been married by your Vicar in your beautiful little Church at the other end of the village.”

  The Proprietor and his wife were stunned.

  “Married!” the woman exclaimed after a moment, “but I thought – ”

  “When we came to you before, we had eloped,” Michael interrupted her, “and in case anyone followed us I pretended to be Martin Morris and that Adela was my sister. My name is really Michael Moore, as the Vicar will confirm.”

  “And now you’re married,” cried the proprietor’s wife as if she could hardly believe it.

  “We are married and we would like to stay the night here and enjoy a delicious dinner if you will cook it for us.”

  “I’ll do that for sure,” she said as she turned to Adela. “You know your way upstairs and I expects you’ll want the room with the four-poster.”

  “I found it very comfortable,” confirmed Michael, “and I was half afraid you might have let it to another visitor.”

  “There’s no one here but yourselves,” the proprietor’s wife assured him.

  “That is exactly how we want it.”

  He went to fetch the luggage, carried it upstairs and put his in the room that Adela had slept in last time.

  He had told the proprietor that they wished to rent two rooms for the night, which somewhat surprised him.

  “Dinner’ll be ready in half-an-hour,” the proprietor’s wife called out as Michael passed the kitchen.

  “I must find you something to drink,” suggested her husband.

  “If you have a bottle of champagne I will be delighted to buy it, otherwise your best white wine.”

  “I thinks I’ve a bottle of bubbly somewhere if I can find it!”

  He disappeared down into the cellar and Michael walked upstairs.

  Adela was taking her clothes out of her bag and he noticed a very pretty nightgown lying on the bed.

  Michael put his arms round her.

  “Now you are mine and, because I am convinced you are a gift from the Gods, everything will go smoothly for us for the rest of our lives and there will be no more dramas.”

  “All that matters is that you are safe,” murmured Adela.

  “You must look after me – ”

  Even as he spoke Michael was kissing her and continued kissing her until they were both breathless.

  The proprietor came up to tell them that dinner was ready and they walked downstairs hand in hand.

  Afterwards Adela could never remember what she had eaten and yet she felt that every mouthful was the ambrosia of the Gods.

  She could only think that Michael was looking at her with an expression of love in his eyes and all she wanted was to be in his arms.

  Finally the meal was finished and Michael put his hand over hers.

  “You must be very tired, my darling,” he said. “Go upstairs and get into bed. I will just see that the horses are comfortable and then I will join you.”

  She smiled at him and did as he told her.

  Michael strode out to the stables and found that his horses had been well looked after. It had been a long night and day and they were tired. They were lying on clean straw and he saw they had been given good food and there was fresh water in the buckets.

  The man who looked after them was still there.

  “They be two fine ’orses you ’ave, sir.”

  “I have just bought them,” Michael told him, “and I am very pleased with them.”

  ‘Good ’orses be ’ard to find and you be lucky to ’ave ’em.”

  “That is what I have been thinking,” Michael replied as he walked back to the inn.

  As he did so, he thought this was another stroke of luck that he might not have received. He was certain now that the horses were worth every penny he had deposited at the Livery stable.

  He would keep them, no matter how many others he could afford, once he was established as the Master of Grangemoore.

  The proprietor was waiting for him and Michael thanked him for the champagne they had drunk at dinner.

  “I always thinks that bottle’d come in handy some time or another,” enthused the proprietor. “It’s not often I gets asked for anything so expensive. I’m glad now I had it waiting for you.”

  “And I am glad to be here in your delightful inn for the first night of my honeymoon.”

  The proprietor laughed and then began to tell Michael what had happened on his own honeymoon.

  It was with some difficulty that Michael managed to extricate himself after just one anecdote and before another one started.

  He hurried up the stairs to the room where he had left his cases.

  He undressed and washed in cold water which refreshed him as it had been a warm day and after he had smoothed his hai
r into place he opened the door into Adela’s room.

  She had not drawn the curtains over the window and the last rays of the setting sun were crimson behind the trees, whilst above them the first evening star was just beginning to twinkle in the sky.

  Michael closed the door and crossed the room.

  He moved towards the large four-poster bed and he expected Adela to sit up and hold out her arms to him.

  When he reached the bed he realised she was fast asleep.

  She was curled down on the pillow and her hair was falling over her shoulders and one hand with slim fingers was lying limply on top of the sheet.

  He stood looking down at her thinking how lovely and ethereal she was and how different from any other women he had ever known.

  She had been so brave and so obedient and helpful in the part they had been forced to play while they were at Grangemoore Hall.

  He could not imagine any woman he had ever met being prepared to play the part of the butler’s sister. They would have protested that it was an inferior role and yet Adela had done exactly everything he had asked.

  She had in fact never put a foot wrong from the moment they had first met.

  ‘She is unique,’ Michael told himself, ‘and very, very wonderful.’

  Slowly and very quietly, so as not to wake her, he pulled the curtains over the window.

  Then taking off the robe he was wearing he climbed into the other side of the bed.

  He thought as he did so that it was a strange way to pass his wedding night.

  He wanted Adela.

  He wanted her with every nerve in his body and every thought in his mind.

  He longed almost uncontrollably to take her into his arms.

  But she had not been to bed at all last night.

  She had passed through traumatic experiences which any woman would find terrifying and exhausting.

  He knew he must allow her to sleep.

  He had the rest of his life to tell her how much he loved her.

  Resolutely he turned his back on her and closed his eyes.

  The blood was throbbing in his temples, but if he was honest, he too was extremely tired.

  However, it was some time before he was able to fall asleep.

  *

  Michael woke to find something warm and soft pressing against him.

  He instinctively put his arms round Adela and felt her lips against his cheek before she cried,