Death of a Duchess, Nellie Steele [non fiction books to read .txt] 📗

“I have learned the truth about Annie’s death. It is… not what I anticipated. You may wish to sit down.”

Robert’s jaw dropped open as I told him of my discovery. “You… she… you have learned what caused her to take her life?”

My breath caught for a moment as I formulated my next statement. “She did not take her own life, Robert,” I answered.

“What?!” Robert exclaimed. “But she…”

I shook my head. “No, no, she did not throw herself from the tower, Robert. She was thrown from the tower to her death. She was murdered.”

Ella collapsed onto the chaise at the admission.

“Murdered?!” he questioned. “By whom? Who would have murdered my sweet Annie?”

My lower lip trembled as his eyes searched mine. “Sir Richard Prescott.”

Robert’s voice raised an octave, incredulous at the statement. “What?! Why?!”

“I am sorry, Robert. The tale is rather sordid. It begins four months before her death.” Robert stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “Sir Richard…” I paused, searching for the words to impart the difficult news. My voice broke as I imparted the next statement. “Forced himself on her. It resulted in a child. A child she learned of and planned to inform you of when Sir Richard confronted her. They argued, and he chose to end her life rather than allow the news come to light. He made it appear as though she took her own life.” I did not mince words, regarding the best policy to be blunt honesty.

Robert collapsed onto the bed, his jaw agape and his eyes wide. He stared at the floor, unmoving, unspeaking. I placed my hand on his shoulder, willing him any strength remaining in me to help face the news. “I am sorry, Robert,” I whispered.

We sat for several moments in silence. I studied Robert’s face, trying to glean any hint of his reaction. His breathing turned ragged as his forehead crinkled. I worried he may have an episode of some sort.

Without warning, Robert rose. “Robert?” I questioned.

He strode to the door without answer. He flung it open with enough force that it banged off the wall, nearly snapping closed again. I chased him into the hall. “Robert,” I questioned again, “where are you going?”

“To settle this,” he growled.

“Settle it how?” I inquired, hurrying after him.

“Go to bed, Lenora. It is my affair now.”

“It is not!” I countered. “You are in shock! I do not wish you to do something foolish!”

Ella, who had followed us into the hall, wrapped her arms around me. “Sinclair, put Her Grace to bed. She has suffered a shock.”

“I shall not be put to bed like a petulant child, Robert!” I warned. “You are angry. Rightfully so! I am angry. But you mustn’t react out of anger! The situation is already tragic. I have no desire to see it become more so!”

“I am a grown man, Lenora, I can take care of myself. Please, wait here.”

“Robert!” I shouted as he spun on his heel and left me behind. “Oh!” I cried as Ella tightened her grip on me.

“Come, Your Grace. You should rest.”

“Rest?!” I cried incredulously. “How can I rest?”

Ella patted my arm. “You must try. Come, at least lay on your chaise.”

I allowed myself to be led to my suite, though I could not sit still. I paced the floor. “Perhaps you should undress, Your Grace,” Ella suggested.

“No,” I replied. “I dare not. In the event I am needed, I prefer to be ready.”

Ella nodded, allowing me to return to my fretting and pacing. After a few more moments, Ella said, “Perhaps if I read to you…”

“No. No, I am far too distracted, but thank you, Sinclair.” Ella wrung her hands. “Do not distress, Sinclair. Your presence offers me as much comfort as I can bear at this time.”

“How terribly anxious you must be, Your Grace. What terrible news about the former Mrs. Fletcher.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Sir Richard’s presence in the castle this evening must have been harrowing for Annie.”

“And for you, Your Grace. You learned of her attack yesterday, did you not? It is what distressed you so, is it not?”

“It is,” I responded. “Yes, I learned of the attack, but not the culprit. I only gained that knowledge this evening.”

“You poor dear,” Ella responded. After a moment she inquired of me, “Pardon me, Your Grace, but what are those marks on your neck? I have only just noticed them. Perhaps you should sit.”

I glanced in the mirror. Purple-red bruises adorned my neck like an ugly necklace. “Bruises,” I admitted.

Her brows wrinkled. “From?”

“Sir Richard. He trapped me in the tower after I learned the truth. He attempted to snuff out my life as he had Annie’s.” Ella’s eyes went wide and she swallowed hard. “Annie saved my life. She flung one of the boards from the window across the room at him. It allowed me enough time to escape.”

“My God!” Ella choked out. “The doctor should be fetched.”

“No, no, Sinclair. I’ve no time for that now. Besides that, I am fine. Other than a sore throat, I sustained no damage.”

“Why did you not tell His Grace?”

“His Grace has enough on his plate to deal with. I did not wish to add more.”

Ella fell silent, and I collapsed to the chaise. After a quarter of an hour, I could sit no longer. I leapt to my feet, resuming my pacing. Each passing moment brought more worry.

At long last, I heard the sound of hoofbeats in the distance. I prayed it was Robert and not news of Robert’s demise. “Robert!” I exclaimed. I raced from my room and rushed down the main stairs to the foyer. Robert entered moments later.

“Oh, thanks heavens,” I breathed, pressing my hand to my chest.

“I am fine, Lenora,” Robert assured me.

“What happened?” I questioned.

Robert removed his riding gloves. “Annie’s death shall soon be avenged.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I have challenged the swine to a duel. Tomorrow morning at sunrise.”

“What?” I cried. “Robert, no!”

“It must be done,” Robert answered.

“You could be harmed.