Rescued by a Duke (15 page)

"I'm trying to find out about the man who was killed. His name was Samuel Douglas. Was he here?" He leaned forward. Would she know of Samuel?

"Yeah, what about him?" She shrugged "He's dead, so…"

"Maybe I should have said, I needed to find out about the
other
man. The one who killed Samuel." Garrett couldn't believe how casually the woman spoke of the death. To her, it was just one less man to serve liquor to. Such apathy toward life must be a way of life here.

"He was in here most nights for about five or six weeks. Ain't seen him here lately, though. Had a different woman with him every week. Samuel Douglas had brought a lady with him, too, but that night, the other man hadn't. He decided he'd just take the woman for himself, but Samuel had other ideas. It started with arguing, then spitting, punches, kicks, and bites. They was drunk, you understand, so they wasn't feelin' much pain, you know."

Garrett nodded, though he had no personal knowledge of ever having consumed so much alcohol he wouldn't feel someone assaulting him. The concept was unthinkable.

The barmaid scratched her neck. "They fought for some while. Back and forth, lots of blood and skin flyin' around."

"Ah." Garrett tried to swallow. Where had all the moisture in his mouth fled to? He darted a glance around the floor. Was anything in this place ever cleaned up after any of the fights had occurred? Probably not.

"So, I guess that's it, then." She turned away.

"No. Wait." He started to reach for her arm but pulled back his hand. He had no desire to touch her.

She angled toward him. "I got a lot of thirsty customers here, me lord. Don't got all night to answer questions. I got four kids to feed…" She stared at him with bloodshot eyes. How old was she? He guessed her to be younger than her worn-out appearance indicated.

He finally understood what she was hinting at. He reached into his pocket for a coin. The woman held out her grimy hand, but Garrett pulled the money away at the last second. "Before I go, I just have one more question."

She sighed and lowered her hand. "All right. Go on."

"Do you happen to know the name of the man who killed Samuel Douglas?" Was it too much to hope that she would also know the identity of the murderer? If she knew Samuel's identity, then maybe…

She glanced toward the floor. "Well, I'm afraid I can't remember. This is a busy place. Lots of people come and go."

He frowned. If she worked here and seemed to know so much that went on, wouldn't it follow that she might know something about the identity of the man? Perhaps she was angling for more money. Garrett added a second coin to the first, clinking them together in his palm. "Does this… stir your memory?"

A sly glance toward Garrett's hand. A yawn. A shrug.

A third coin joined the first two. Garrett bounced them up and down. Up and down. The barmaid's eyes followed their movement. A smile curled above her abominable teeth. "You know, me lord, I believe I might just remember something." She stepped closer to Garrett, her body odor coming at him in waves. "Everybody knows him. Always the best with the ladies. His name is Lucien. Didn't ever give a last name."

Garrett gulped in a huge breath of air. His vision blurred. He dropped the money as he fled, not caring where it landed. The laughter around him seemed louder, the smells more noxious. Racing across the dirty floor, he pushed through the door so fast it rocked on its one remaining hinge. As he leapt for the curricle, he stumbled, landing on his knees. Trembling, he pulled himself up onto the seat until he regained his balance. The drive home was a blur of passing scenery and dusty streets as Garrett fought to keep the contents of his stomach from spewing out of his mouth.

Once home, he sat in the curricle in the stable block with his face cradled in his hands.
It can't be true. It can't. Not Lucien. Lucien? Had murdered Samuel?
It had to be him, didn't it? A man named Lucien, good with the ladies, dressed well… And Lucien had told him that he'd been in the area for a while.

Garrett's mind reeled, trying to believe what he had just learned. This was something Garrett could not buy Lucien's way out of. No. His brother would pay. With his life. Swinging from a rope. Garrett moaned as he rocked back and forth. Was it possible for a heart to physically shatter?

How was he going to tell Sasha that his
own
brother had killed hers? He couldn't imagine forming those words and saying them out loud.

Regaining some semblance of himself, he stepped from the curricle, leaving it and the horses for the stable boys to deal with. Such things seemed trivial in light of what he'd just learned. Would he ever be able to erase the barmaid's words from his mind, naming his own brother as a killer? Something like that could haunt a man's dreams forever.

Garrett trudged up his front steps. His feet as heavy as boulders, his steps slow. How on earth was he going to tell Sasha the truth? There would be no easy way. Maybe he could wait until after the wedding. If he told her before, she would be so upset she might not want to go through with the ceremony, and that was a possibility he could not bear.

Having found his soul mate at last, he'd do nearly anything to make her his wife. He rubbed his hand on his chin. Yes, that was it. He would wait to tell her. Then at least she could enjoy her wedding day without sadness or anger. It was the right decision, wasn't it? Indecision gnawed at his brain, pulling him to and fro.

He opened the front door, more annoyed by its squeak than usual. After the wedding, he'd have some things updated and repaired around the house. After the wedding… when he would tell his wife the truth. It would all work out. It just had to.

****

Sasha angled her head away from the mirror and glanced at Maryann. Fondness filled her heart at the sight of the older woman. Surely she was a mother, the way she took such loving care of her. "I've always wondered, do you… have a family?"

The maid shook her head, her lace cap swishing against her collar. "No, your grace. I did, long ago, but my husband and daughter were taken by illness. She was not much younger than you."

Sasha bit her lip, now wishing she hadn't brought up a subject that caused such heartache for Maryann. "I'm so sorry. I understand what it's like, after losing Samuel. Does the pain in your heart ever cease?"

"The pain lessens, in time. Much time. 'Tis agony, losing a family member, that's for sure. It took me many years to even be able to speak of it. I lost them both within a few days of each other. I tended to them the best I could, but it was no use. Death took them anyway. Then I was alone. I often think it's why his grace always seemed so lost and sad." She tilted her head. "Until you came along."

"What do you mean? Because he lost his parents?"

She nodded. "Yes. And Agatha."

"Who is Agatha?" Sasha frowned. Had Garrett had a true love in the past? Jealousy clutched at her heart. She'd not heard him speak of another love, but then would he have told her?

Maryann clasped her hands together in front of her as her face reddened. "Oh, he didn't tell you? Maybe he didn't want to upset you after the loss of your brother." She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by saying something out of turn."

"No, no, it's fine, Maryann. I asked you about it. And it's not as if you knew I hadn't heard." Sasha was torn between wanting to hear the details and wanting to run and hide from them. If it was about another love of Garrett's, maybe it was best to hear about it now.

Maryann nodded and let out a breath. "Agatha was his younger sister. She ran away, lured by a handsome, rich man who said he loved her."

Sasha widened her eyes, relieved it wasn't what she'd thought, then ashamed for her assumptions. To think poor Garrett had lost a sibling to death as well! "What happened?"

"He never intended to wed her. He took her to his home and forced her into servitude. Then… he killed her."

Sasha gasped, tightening her hands into fists at her sides, wanting to hurt the man who'd done this to Garrett's sister. "How horrible! The poor girl. But what happened to the man who did this to her? Was he punished?"

"His grace tried to find him, but never could. He tried for months and spent much money and time, but to no avail. Apparently the man disappeared after he killed Agatha. The police questioned his household, but the man was never to be found. Her body was found in the well on this very property. No one knows why the man brought her back. His grace was the one who… found her. I'll never forget the look on his face when he returned to the house that day. He appeared sad and angry all at once. It was two days before he spoke of it to anyone. She's buried a half-mile from here, in the far pasture, along with their parents."

The blood drained from Sasha's face as if someone had released a river from the confines of its banks. He'd found her in
the well?
She reached behind her to grab the chair and nearly fell into it. Darkness crept into her mind, forcing her to relive her own confinement below the earth. Cold. Fear. Pain.

Maryann widened her eyes. "Your grace? Are you well? Maybe I shouldn't have told you, after all." She wrenched her hands together.

"It's just… so horrible, so h-heartbreaking." Her mouth had gone dry. She swallowed hard, trying to create some moisture. How had Garrett had the presence of mind to rescue
her
from the same well in which he'd found his own sister? It must have been torture for him, being there, remembering Agatha.

"Yes. It is." She put her hand on Sasha's shoulder, her grip tight, until Sasha had righted herself in the chair. "You sit there until it passes, your grace. Won't do you any good to become ill so soon before the wedding."

Sasha had never told anyone about how Garrett had rescued her from the well. Not even Maryann. She trusted the woman, but didn't want to put her into a position of having to keep the secret if authorities ever found out in some way and questioned her. No, it was safer to keep the secret between her and Garrett. She knew he would protect her, but her distrust of any contact with the authorities left her unsettled. Fear of debtor's prison still plagued her. And if they could not even find one fiendish murderer, how could she trust they would not do something to her as well?

A glance in the mirror told Sasha some color was returning to her face. At first glance she'd been deathly pale. Now, some pink was again on her cheeks. The news brought both her own trouble in the well and her brother's death to the forefront. How terrible for Garrett. But why hadn't he told her?

****

Garrett entered his study and widened his eyes. Sasha was there. The last time that had happened without him carrying her down, his brother had done it. "Sasha, how…?" Had Lucien returned? He clenched his hands into fists. Brother or not, Garrett would beat him to a pulp if he ever laid a hand on Sasha again.

Sasha grinned. "My ankle is so much better. It still hurts, but it's not as sore as it was. I was careful, Garrett, and I held onto Maryann's arm the whole time."

Garrett took a deep breath. "Thank goodness you're well." And thank goodness it hadn't been Lucien who had done it. If Lucien showed up again, Garrett would—

Sasha lowered her gaze to her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I need to ask you something."

"Of course, darling, what is it?"

"I have found there is something you have not told me. Something quite important… about family."

Garrett's heartbeat raced, pounding painfully in his chest. His mouth went dry. How could she know?
He
had just found out himself about who killed Samuel. "Oh, I-I'm… so sorry."

"You should have told me. I'm to be your wife. We should share everything." A tear slowly traveled down her cheek.

Garrett clenched his teeth. At least the news was out. But who had told her? "Yes, of course, you're right."

She smoothed the blue fabric of her dress and gazed up at him. "Poor Agatha. Now I understand why you always seemed so upset when we spoke of my brother."

He held in a gasp.
She doesn't know.
Relief swept over him. Sweat pooled beneath his arms and above his upper lip. He crossed the room and plopped down beside Sasha on the settee, glad to have something to support his weakened state.

She took one of his hands in both of hers. "You've gone pale. Is it because I mentioned—"

"Agatha, yes."
She doesn't know!

"Why didn't you tell me? I want to be here for you no matter what happens. If you're sad about your sister, you can tell me."

He nodded, his breathing slowing to a natural rhythm. "How did you find out?"

"Maryann."

He frowned. "But—"

Sasha leaned forward, lowering her voice even though they were alone in the room. "Please don't be upset with her. She assumed I knew and didn't realize she was telling me something I was unaware of."

He patted her hand with his. "I won't say anything to her, Sasha. I know how fond you are of her."