Strange that he would feel this way. Especially, since her actions before the meal, had served to upset him. But afterwards... He grinned. If he had to put a name to the way she’d acted before the meal, he’d say it was jealousy. And yet, why would she be jealous of Candace? He was marrying Frances, not his former mistress.

  Sighing deeply, he shook his head. He should not be feeling this way at all. Eventually she would discover his involvement with Adam, which would end drastically for Nash and Frances. He couldn’t allow his heart to get involved with that woman. But could he stop it now?

  Memories resurfaced about those days before Adam Haddington left to join the other soldiers in battle. Adam’s family wasn’t well-off, not like some titled families, but they weren’t poor, either. After Adam had asked the duke for Frances’ hand in marriage, Adam had talked to Nash. For some reason, the duke had made him feel as though he would never earn enough money to support his daughter. Feeling desolate about his finances, Nash convinced the man to join the military. Never did he think his friend would be killed in battle.

  Nash frowned and sat up in bed, running his fingers through his messy hair. If he hadn’t convinced Adam to join the military, he’d still be alive and married to Frances. And Nash wouldn’t have to carry the burden of guilt of sending his friend to his death—or of marrying the woman his friend had been engaged to.

  Other voices echoed in his head, confusing him. Last night, Candace had mentioned that Adam had only wanted to marry Frances because she was wealthy. If that were the case, then why had Adam joined the military after Nash had suggested it? For that matter, why had Adam felt disappointed that he wasn’t making enough to marry Frances?

  Whose story should he believe since they were both opposite from the other?

  The clamoring of voices in the hall brought Nash out of his jumbled thoughts. Something was wrong. Why else would people be hurrying in the hall?

  He jumped out of bed and shrugged on his robe just as someone pounded loudly on his door.

  “Nash, wake up!” Laura said frantically.

  He quickly opened the door. Her face was pale, and in her hand she held a large rock with a note tied to it. Behind her stood Lilly, whose appearance resembled that of a ghost as well.

  “Nash, someone just threw a rock through the dining room window.” She reached her shaky hand holding the rock toward him.

  “They threw it at our window?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “No.” Both his sisters shook their head.

  He yanked off the string securing the note to the rock, and then unfolded the paper. He skimmed the few sentences and his heart sank. Stay away from Lady Frances. This is your second warning. Remember the sticker weeds?

  “What does it say?” both sisters chimed together.

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing to worry about. I shall deal with this personally.”

  Turning back into his room, anger grew quickly inside of him. Who would be foolish enough to do this?

  “Nash?” Lilly whined. “What about the broken window?”

  “I said I’ll handle it,” Nash snapped and kicked the door closed with his heel.

  Who could he ask about this? It’s not like they had a houseful of servants. The only person he could think that might not want him marrying Lady Frances would be Adam, but Nash didn’t believe in ghosts.

  As he dressed, his mind scrambled to think of others who might not want to see him married to Lady Frances. The only other person would be Lady Livingston. But she wasn’t underhanded enough to do something this vindictive. She would just move onto another man to ask to marry her. Nash hadn’t been that important in her life.

  By the time he was dressed, his head throbbed with uncertainty. Should he make the duke aware of this? Perhaps Frances’ father might know something. Nash didn’t know what else to do. He could inform the authorities, but even they wouldn’t be able to find the culprit who was behind this.

  Skipping breakfast, Nash wandered outside and searched around the area where the rock would have been thrown in the window. He didn’t see any boot marks in the dirt. However, there were horse’s hooves.

  He grumbled and marched back inside the house and into the dining room. His sisters must have cleaned up the glass, because he didn’t see any chips on the wooden floor. He would have to hire someone to replace the window, and of course, pray they didn’t charge him too much.

  Nash scratched his head as he stared out the broken window. What if this person wasn’t someone he knew at all? What if this person was someone who knew Frances? Yet, if they knew the young woman, they’d want to see her married, wouldn’t they? Unless, of course, she had an admirer who hadn’t made his intentions known yet.

  Still...to go as far as to throw a rock through the window? That was quite immature. So was the perpetrator someone in their youth?

  He gritted his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no way he’d do as the note instructed. But if he didn’t follow their directions, would there be a third warning? As mentioned in the note, they were the ones who placed the sticker weeds under the horse’s blanket. Now this. Obviously, they were quite serious.

  Nash would love nothing better than to get his hands on this person. He’d show them that he did not succumb to threats. They needed to talk to him face-to-face. But even then, he wasn’t going to stop seeing Frances. After all, it was her father who was pushing the wedding. Nash really didn’t have any other choice.

  He turned and rushed out of the room, and out of the house. The only thing he could think to do would be to talk to the duke. Something must be done and quickly. Nash prayed that Frances wasn’t in danger. And yet, she’d been with him when the horse bucked out of control. So yes, she was in danger. So was he.

  He saddled his horse before mounting and riding as fast as he could toward Frances’ estate. Hopefully Conrad would assist in this search to find the fool responsible for all of this. Nash’s wedding grew closer. He couldn’t risk having another episode.

  FRANCES WALKED ON CLOUDS this morning. For the first time in three years, she hadn’t dreamed about Adam, and hadn’t awoken with tears in her eyes. And surprisingly enough, she didn’t feel guilty for betraying Adam by looking forward to having more passionate moments with Nash.

  Humming, she floated down the stairs and to the music room at the end of the hall. She hadn’t touched the pianoforte since before Adam died, and she suddenly felt like playing again. She sat on the bench and placed her fingers on the ivory keys. Immediately a tune popped into her head. She’d played this with her mother when she was a little girl. The memory made Frances smile. Although she missed her terribly, thinking of her always brought happiness to her heart. For the longest time after her mother’s passing, Frances believed her mother had been her guardian angel. Frances had felt her mother’s presence especially after Adam had died, and when Frances had needed someone to comfort her.

  Voices from outside the music room window interrupted her thoughts. Sighing, she pulled her fingers off the pianoforte’s keys and glanced toward the window. The male voice didn’t sound familiar, but the female voice sounded like Augusta. Was the woman reprimanding another servant?

  Frances bunched her hands into fists. She hadn’t liked the way that woman had taken over the household. Why her father didn’t notice—or acted like he didn’t care—was unnerving. And why Frances couldn’t trust Augusta, she didn’t know. Once again, she wondered if her guardian angel was trying to warn her about Frances’ new stepmother.

  She moved away from the musical instrument and headed toward the window. Just as she reached it, the male voice said her name. Frances froze, and dared to eavesdrop on their conversation, thankful that they couldn’t see her.

  “You do not have need to worry, my dear Edgar. Leave Frances to me. I’ll sway her attitude toward thinking you will be the better husband.”

  Bile rose in Frances’ throat and she placed a hand over her mouth. When had Augusta’s nephew arrived? And why wasn’t Frances informed? If she’d known the imbecile was coming, she would have gone to stay with Aunt Sylvia in London.

  “Honestly, Auntie, I don’t see how you can accomplish such a feat. Did you not see the way they looked at each other yesterday?”

  Edgar’s whiney voice had Frances rolling her eyes. He sounded like a boy instead of a grown man at the age of thirty. In the little time she’d known Edgar, he proved what a spoiled, selfish, violent man he could be. She didn’t want anything to do with him.

  “Be that as it may,” Augusta remarked in a haughty voice, “there are ways to sway her father. After all, the duke still needs to approve of the match.”

  Inwardly, Frances snickered. Apparently, the woman didn’t know the duke had already approved of the match. After all, the duke was the reason she and Nash were marrying in the first place.

  “Then let me suggest you do something quickly,” Edgar snapped. “Because we are running out of time.”

  Frances frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Leave it to me,” Augusta said. “I can persuade the duke. But I cannot do this alone. You had better do something to impress Lady Frances.”

  “I have something planned.” Edgar chuckled. “I’m sure Frances will love it.”

  Frances’ stomach lurched, and she moved away from the window, not wanting to hear more. Her father needed to know about this. Certainly, he wouldn’t allow Augusta to get away with this trickery.

  Hurrying out of the room, determination guided her steps. From room to room, she searched for her father, but to no avail. Not even the butler knew where the duke was this time in the morning.

  She stopped at the side door near her father’s study. Looking outside, she scanned the west yard carefully. The sweet fragrance from her mother’s prized flower garden carried through the light breeze. Thankfully, Frances still had something on the estate to remind of Frances of her mother. Rubbing her forehead, she tried to focus back on her father, and what his schedule might be today. The frantic pounding in her head made it impossible to think clearly. As far as she recalled, their family didn’t have any pressing engagements until this evening when they would attend another ball.

  A horse’s neigh from off in the distance snapped her out of her thoughts. Perhaps her father was riding this morning.

  Without another thought, she rushed outside and down toward the stables. Oliver, their main stable man, stood just in front of the double doors to the barn, brushing down her father’s horse.

  “Oliver,” she said out of breath.

  His gaze snapped up to her before he bowed. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Have...you seen my father.” She tried to catch her breath, but it was difficult.

  “Not since he went riding this morning.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath and moved to the wall of the barn and leaned against it. Her headache throbbed harder, and she rubbed her forehead as she closed her eyes. This was ridiculous! Where would he have gone?

  “Lady Frances?” Oliver asked sheepishly. “Did something happen to your horse, Pegasus?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” She peeked at the servant beneath her lashes. “Why?”

  “Because Pegasus is missing, my lady.”

  Headache forgotten, Frances jumped away from the wall and turned to enter the structure. She scanned inside, searching for her beautiful, white and gray, Gypsy Vanner horse. The stall remained empty.

  “Oliver,” she shrieked as she ran out to the servant. “Where is Pegasus?”

  “I know not, my lady.” He shrugged. “When I awoke this morning, your horse was gone.”

  Panic filled her, squeezing her heart and bringing tears to her eyes. “We must find her. I’ve raised her since I was ten years old.”

  “Yes, my lady.” He nodded. “I shall alert the other stable hands, and we’ll search the area.”

  Oliver led her father’s horse inside the stable as he shouted instructions to the other servants.

  She dashed unladylike, across the yard, heading toward the glade of trees. Pegasus liked to graze nearby the glade, and she prayed this was where her horse had wandered. From the distance, her name was called. She stopped and looked toward the rider coming toward her, waving a hand.

  When she recognized Nash, she released a sob and covered her mouth, waiting for him to reach her. Concern etched his expression as he stopped his horse and jumped off.

  “Frances, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking large strides toward her.

  “Oh, Nash.” She ran to him. His strong arms wrapped around her shoulders as she pressed her head against his muscular chest. “Pegasus is gone.”

  “Your horse?” He stroked her unbound hair that she hadn’t had styled yet this morning.

  “Yes.” She lifted her head. “Nash, Pegasus never wanders off.”

  “Shh...” He brushed away the tears from her cheek with the pad of this thumbs. “I’ll find her.”

  She grasped the lapels of his overcoat. “Let me come with you.”

  His gaze roamed over her long hair hanging over her shoulders, and then to her face. “I’m quite certain your father wouldn’t approve.” He ran his palm over her hair again. “You need to ready yourself first, my precious.”

  She scowled. “I don’t care what my appearance looks like. I need to find my horse. So are you taking me or not?”

  Slowly, he nodded and cupped her face. “Calm yourself. I shall take you.”

  Sighing, she leaned against him. “I thank you, Nash. I shall have Oliver find my father and inform him of my whereabouts.”

  Nash turned them toward his horse and lifted her on top before mounting behind her. A warm comforting feeling surrounded her as she relaxed against his chest. One strong arm circled around her waist as he used his other hand to grip the reins. His hot breath blew against her cheek, making her feel more secure in his arms.

  He guided his horse back toward the stable where he instructed the stable man to find her father and let him know where Frances was. The servant nodded and dashed toward the house.

  Without another word, Nash urged his horse into a fast gallop. She searched as far as her eyes could see, but she didn’t spot Pegasus. Dread filled her the longer they rode around the estate.

  “Where is she?” Frances sobbed.

  Nash rode to the end of her father’s property and stopped the horse. She covered her hands over her face as the tears fell freely. They couldn’t give up now.

  “Frances, my precious.” Nash kissed the back of her head. “We need to locate your father. I believe he can help us.”

  “There’s no time.” She shook her head, keeping her hands over her face.

  “But we must. I believe there is more to this than just a missing horse.”

  Dropping her hands, she looked at him from over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “I received a threat this morning. In the note, they mentioned there might be another incident if I didn’t do what they instructed.”

  She blinked, trying to clear her teary vision as she focused on his handsome face. “What did they instruct you to do?”

  Nash was silent for a few moments before he licked his lips. “They want me to stay away from you.”

  Fear rushed through her and she sucked in her breath. “Oh, please...tell me you’re teasing.”

  “No, my precious. They threw a rock in the dining room window. They also took responsibility for the sticker weeds under the horse’s saddle blanket.”

  A tremor passed through her. She clutched his arm. “Do you know who they are?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you think they took Pegasus?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “At this point, I will accuse them of anything that goes wrong.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Now do you understand why I think we should find your father first?”

  Nodding, she withdrew just enough to peer into his blue-gray eyes. “Yes. Now I understand.”

  She faced forward and cuddled against his chest as he guided the horse back toward the manor. Her mind swam with unanswered questions, confusing her more. Someone wanted him to stay away from her? What utter nonsense! Why would anyone...

  Her mind came to a halt as her memory played back the conversation she eavesdropped on between Augusta and Edgar. Could it be them? She wouldn’t put it past Edgar to be so underhanded. And it wouldn’t surprise her to know that Augusta was in on it with her nephew. But why? What was their reasoning for wanting Frances and Edgar to marry?

  For certain, she would make her father aware of what she’d heard. She just prayed he believed her this time, when before she brought her concerns to him about Augusta, he just pushed them under the rug as if they were not important. Well, this time they were very important, and with Nash by her side, she would make her father see what was going on.

  Nash and Frances reached the house. Nash jumped off his horse first, and then lifted her down. Their gazes locked, and she really enjoyed how gentle he was with her as if she was a porcelain dish.

  He took her hand in his as they turned toward the porch steps, but just then Conrad flew from the house. When he noticed them, he stopped sharply. His expression spoke volumes of worry because of the lines around his eyes and mouth. His attention shifted between Frances and Nash.

  “What’s wrong?” Conrad asked.

  “I was thinking of asking you the same thing.” She released Nash’s hand, walked up the stairs, and touched his arm.

  “Father has gone missing.”

  NINE

  The next two hours crept by. Nash paced continuously in the duke’s drawing room, along with Conrad and Frances. The Metropolitan Police had arrived and asked everyone questions, and some inspectors had even scoped out the property, but neither the duke nor Frances’ horse had been located.

  Many times Nash wanted to hold Frances in his arms and comfort her, but that wouldn’t be proper until their wedding announcement was made...which he now wondered if that would ever happen. Indeed, there were games afoot, and none of them were worth playing.

 

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