The Duke & the Preachers Daughter Read online

  The three men rose to their feet.

  “I always says as I didn’t like the country,” Charlie grumbled.

  “Go back to London,” Benedicta said firmly. “Keep the money you already have, but don’t go near that lady who gave it to you. But you must not keep one penny of this blood money for yourselves. You, Jeb, must spend it on your mother and you others on your children or your wives. But not on yourselves personally. Is that understood ?”

  “Yus, miss,” Jeb murmured, while the other two men made inarticulate sounds.

  “Then go and hurry,” Benedicta told them. “While you are here you are trespassing and it would be foolish to be convicted for such a minor crime when I have saved you from committing a far more serious one.”

  The two men on the other side of the fire turned away, but as Jeb would have followed them, Benedicta laid her hand on his arm.

  “I shall be praying for you, Jeb,” she said. “Praying that my father was not mistaken and that you are at heart, as he believed you to be, a good man.”

  “’Tis ’ard, Miss Benedicta,” Jeb muttered.

  “I know, but when you are tempted again, remember that both my father and I will be praying for you, praying very hard, Jeb.”

  Jeb did not reply, but merely pulled the torn cap he wore further over his eyes and slouched away, following the other two men who were on a path made by the woodcutters, through the trees.

  Benedicta stood watching them, until finally Jeb was out of sight, then she sat down and covered her face with her hands.

  It was only then that the Duke moved.

  He could hardly believe what he had seen and heard.

  Yet he knew there had been no need for him to interfere because Benedicta had handled everything in such an amazing way.

  As he watched her, he had felt certain she was surrounded by a kind of celestial light that he had perceived when she first appeared.

  It might have been part of the shimmering of the fire where the men had sat listening to her, but he was convinced it was something different – something that shone from within herself.

  He approached her quietly and only when he was actually standing beside her, did she look up questioningly as if she thought perhaps Jeb had returned with something further to say to her.

  When she saw who stood there, she gave a little cry that seemed to come from her very heart.

  “I have come to take you home, Benedicta,” the Duke said gently.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Benedicta sprang to her feet and by the light of the fire the Duke could see she was very pale and yet there was a sudden radiance in her eyes which he had seen before when he had returned home from London.

  “You are – here!” she exclaimed at length wonderingly.

  “Yes, I am here,” he replied, “and I heard you save my life.”

  She gave a little shudder as if the horror of it was still with her.

  Then she looked towards the darkness of the trees where the men had disappeared and said,

  “You must be – careful. I am sure that now they will not do what they – intended to do, but I cannot trust them – completely.”

  “You saved me,” the Duke repeated, “and now you must look after me. I will take you home, Benedicta.”

  She looked at him as if for a moment what he had said did not penetrate her mind.

  Then she replied in a low voice,

  “I – cannot come with – you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have to – go away – I cannot – do what you – ask.”

  “I realise that now,” he answered, “and I have something different to suggest to you.”

  He moved a step nearer, but she put up her hands as if to ward him off.

  “N – no,” she said. “I must – go – I am going to my grandfather in Northumberland. I think he will forgive me – and take me in.”

  “You intend walking all that way by yourself?” the Duke asked.

  “I shall be – all right.”

  “I doubt it,” he answered, “and if you wish to go to Northumberland I will take you there, but I would rather you came home first. It is growing dark, Benedicta, and we cannot stay here talking all night.”

  Again she looked towards the path down which the men had gone.

  Then, as if she was frightened, she put out her hands towards him.

  “Go away,” she said. “I am afraid – afraid for you.”

  “As I have been for you,” the Duke answered. “I cannot tell you, Benedicta, what agonies I have been through since I started searching for you early this afternoon.”

  She looked at him with an expression that he thought was one of surprise and he added,

  “Did you really think I would let you leave me?”

  “I have – to go,” she repeated. “I want to obey you – but I cannot – marry Richard.”

  “You are not going to marry Richard,” the Duke said softly. “You are going to marry me, Benedicta – if you will have me.”

  He saw she did not understand and looked at him with a puzzled expression in her eyes.

  Then as they met his, she was very still.

  “Wh-what are you – saying?” she asked.

  The words were so low they were little more than a whisper.

  “I am telling you, my darling, that I cannot live without you. It is a long story which I will tell you as we ride home, but now I am asking you to return to Kingswood and take care of me, as you did just now when those men were plotting to kill me.”

  For a long moment Benedicta just looked at him.

  Then he saw her face transformed by a radiance that made her so beautiful that it seemed once again as if she was enveloped with a celestial light.

  “Do you mean – do you really – mean – ” she stammered.

  The Duke put his arms round her.

  “I mean that I love you, Benedicta! As I have loved you for a very long time, but I would not acknowledge it to myself.”

  She made a little sound that was indescribable, then hid her face against his shoulder.

  “I love you!” the Duke repeated, “and I think, my precious one, that you already love me a little.”

  “I love you!” she whispered, “but I never dreamt – I never thought – ”

  “I know,” he answered, “but what I feel for you can no longer be denied. Let us go home.”

  She raised her head to look up at him and his lips captured hers.

  He held her fiercely against him and yet his lips were gentle, and he kissed her in a way that he had never kissed another woman because there was something reverent in his feelings for Benedicta.

  To her the Duke’s kiss was a wonder and a glory beyond anything she imagined – anything of which she had ever dreamt.

  She had never been kissed, but she had always believed that a kiss between two people in love was part of the Divine blessing from God.

  Now she felt as if she had stepped from the mundane world into Heaven and as the Duke’s lips became more insistent, more possessive, she thought perhaps she had died and was no longer human.

  He held her closer still and she knew now that behind the tenderness there was a fire that she sensed rather than understood.

  When at length the Duke raised his head, he looked down into her eyes filled with light, the softness of her parted lips and he knew that he had found what all men seek.

  “I love you!” he said again and because the words were new to him, they sounded strange, even to his own ears.

  He put his arm round her and drew her back along the path by which he had come.

  It was hard to walk together but by being so close as if they were one person, they managed it and finally struggling through the undergrowth on the outside of the wood, they came to where the Duke had left his horse.

  It was now nearly dusk and yet it seemed to the Duke as if the sunlight was still in Benedicta’s eyes.

  “It is a long way home, my beloved,” he
said. “Shall we go to the farm and see if we can borrow a pony and trap, or shall we go slowly on my horse?”

  “It will perhaps be – uncomfortable for you.”

  The Duke smiled.

  “The only alternative is to walk and I think you have done enough of that for one day.”

  Benedicta gave a little laugh.

  “I confess I have not travelled as far as I had hoped,” she admitted, “but the truth is that the shoes Mrs. Newall gave me were a little too small and I could not move as quickly as I would have wished.”

  “I am grateful for that, for I might have had to look further for you and I might not have heard those men planning my murder in the wood.”

  “I could not – believe that – anyone could be so – wicked,” Benedicta said with a little throb in her voice.

  The Duke knew she was speaking of Delyth Maulden.

  “Forget her,” he said.

  He had reached his horse and now he pulled off his riding coat and laid it on the front of his saddle. Then he picked Benedicta up in his arms and set her on it before he mounted behind her.

  He put his right arm around her and held the reins with his left and asked,

  “You are comfortable?”

  She was shy because she was so close against him and she could feel his heart beneath his thin lawn shirt, beating against her.

  “Very – comfortable,” she answered in a very little voice and the Duke smiled because he knew that she was blushing.

  He pulled her even closer against him and kissed her lips before he spurred his horse forward.

  They travelled slowly and the Duke thought that however long it took, he could imagine no journey could be so entrancing as to have Benedicta in his arms.

  “When did you first know you loved me?” he asked, as they circled the growing corn in the valley.

  “I think I loved you the first – moment I saw you,” Benedicta replied. “You were – so kind about Papa – then when I saw you sitting in your high-backed chair in the dining room I thought no man could be so magnificent – or look so important.”

  She gave a little sigh.

  “I felt sadly out of place in my rags and tatters – but you talked to me as if you were interested in what I said and no one else could have been such a – great gentleman.

  The Duke kissed her hair before he said,

  “Major Haverington warned me that you might fall in love with me, but if you were, you hid it very successfully.”

  “And yet – you knew I – loved you?”

  “Richard told me so.”

  “Richard?”

  “When I found you had gone, I went to his room and asked him if he knew where you had gone. He told me he thought you would have gone back to the North. He also said he did not wish to marry you, because you loved me.”

  “You must have – thought it very – impertinent of me,” Benedicta murmured.

  The Duke gave a little laugh.

  “I thought it was not only the most wonderful thing I had ever heard, but also, although I would not acknowledge it, what I had longed for all my life.”

  “I thought you – wished never to marry.”

  “I swore I would never do so,” the Duke agreed, “but that was before I met you.”

  “Did I – really make you – change your mind?”

  “You are the first and only woman I have ever asked to marry me,” the Duke admitted, “and the only one I have ever wanted as my wife!”

  “How can you – want me?” Benedicta asked. “I have – nothing to offer you except – my love.”

  “Which to me is the most priceless thing in the world,” the Duke replied, “so priceless, my precious one, that I value it far more than Kingswood or anything else I possess.”

  Benedicta looked up at him.

  “Do you – really mean that?”

  “I will convince you it is the truth.”

  Then, as if he could not help himself, he drew his horse to a standstill and kissed her until she could only cling to him breathless and enchanted.

  Her heart was beating against his and the flame she had sensed behind his lips was also a part of her.

  It took them a long time to reach Kingswood and when at last they could see it silhouetted against the sky, the lights in the windows glowing golden in the darkness, Benedicta said,

  “It is so big and impressive and you are of such – consequence – you should not marry a nobody like me. I ought to – refuse you.”

  “And do you think I would let you?”

  “How can I – be a Duchess?” Benedicta asked, with a sudden frightened note in her voice as if she had just thought of it. “I shall – make mistakes – I shall do the wrong things and perhaps you will – regret that you ever brought me back.”

  “That is so unlikely that I cannot even consider the possibility,” the Duke smiled. “All I know is, however ignorant you may be of the Social world, my darling one, you have something special that will always tell you what is right and what is wrong.”

  “What is that?” Benedicta enquired.

  “I think most people would call it instinct,” the Duke answered, “but I believe it is something which comes from the soul and which I saw shining around you like a light, when you were talking to those thugs.”

  “Did you really – see that?” she asked in a low voice.

  “I promise you that when you came from behind the tree to speak to them, there seemed to be a light about you – a light that came from within.”

  “I wish I could believe that was true,” Benedicta said. “It is what Papa told me came from those who are inspired the Prophets, the Disciples and other great leaders of men.”

  She gave a little sigh that was one of happiness and put her head back against his shoulder.

  “I thought perhaps you would have the same light about you when you went into battle – knowing you were fighting a just cause. If I had it then in the wood, it was because I was fighting for you.”

  “That is the sensible explanation, my lovely one,” the Duke said, “but I think, in fact, that it is the light of purity from someone who is good in a world filled with wickedness and evil.”

  “No – no, that is not true!” Benedicta protested. “You think that because Jeb was tempted into trying to kill you for money. Papa said there is good in everybody and there is good in him too. He is kind to his mother and, when I awakened his conscience, he went away.”

  The Duke’s lips lingered for a moment on her forehead, then he said,

  “You are arguing with me again, and I think, my darling, we shall always enjoy our arguments, but I shall still stick to my own conviction that there is a Power greater than ourselves, who sent you to save me. That is what you have done and now I am your responsibility for the rest of your life.”

  “I can imagine nothing more – wonderful,” Benedicta whispered.

  “You have saved not only me,” the Duke said, as they rounded the lake towards the bridge.

  “Who else have I saved?” Benedicta asked.

  “Richard, because once we are married, which I intend will happen as soon as possible, Delyth Maulden will no longer wish to marry him. So he is free. He shall go to India as soon as he is well enough.”

  “Oh, I am glad – so very very glad!” Benedicta cried.

  The Duke rose from the dining table where they had been sitting for a long time and drew Benedicta to her feet. They had found so much to talk about, that they had lingered on long after the servants had left them alone.

  The table was decorated with white gardenias and there were the same flowers arranged in Benedicta’s hair.

  They were also in the bouquet she had carried when a few hours earlier she had married the Duke in the private Chapel where her father had lain in state before his burial.

  It had been a very quiet, almost secret service, with just the senior servants present and Richard. He had insisted that he should be carried downstairs in a chair, so that he could
be present.

  “If I were well enough, I would take you up the aisle on my arm,” he said to Benedicta, “but as it is, I am going to be there to see that Cousin Nolan really and truly renounces his bachelorhood for the bonds of matrimony.”

  He laughed.

  “I still cannot believe that after all he said and all the women who have tried to capture him, it should be you who is leading him to the altar.”

  “I have already told him I am the wrong wife for him,” Benedicta said humbly.

  “Nonsense! You are the right one, exactly right,” Richard corrected.

  He spoke so positively that Benedicta looked at him in surprise.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, do you not see, you are different from all the other women?” Richard replied. “They loved him, but they all believed that his heart was locked away in a barren prison or else was non-existent.”

  “I still cannot – believe that I have found it!” Benedicta said almost beneath her breath.

  “But you have,” Richard assured her, “and I have never known Cousin Nolan to look so happy or to be so kind and understanding.”

  “I am so lucky – so tremendously – unbelievably lucky.”

  “And so is he. You are just the sort of wife he should have.”

  “I cannot think why you should say that.”

  “Well, for one thing, because you stand up to him,” Richard answered, “another, because you are clever. Cousin Nolan has a brilliant brain and he soon becomes bored with those cork-brained creatures who simper at him all the time. They never lasted more than six months.”

  “You are making me nervous,” Benedicta cried. “Supposing after six months he is sorry he ever married me?”

  Richard smiled.

  “In which case I will come back from India and run away with you,” he said. “I have a feeling that in the future I am going to regret not having married you myself, when I had the chance.”

  “You will fall in love again one day,” Benedicta told him, “and then it will be with the right person and everything will be perfect, as it is with the Duke and me.”

  She looked so happy as she spoke and love had made her so beautiful that Richard found himself staring at her as if he had never really seen her before.

  And that was how the Duke felt when he saw her in her wedding gown with a tiara from the Kingswood collection holding her veil in place.