Kingston-upon-Thames, late November 1666
Desire was in the garden, looking at the rosebushes, when she saw a lone horseman ride up to the entrance of the house. Even from a distance she thought she recognised him. The Duke of Kilverdale was a memorable figure. She began to stroll towards him.
They’d received a letter from him a week ago to say that he’d finally caught up with Arscott at Harwich. The steward had led Kilverdale on a tortuous journey all the way to Plymouth in Devon and back to Harwich on the Essex coast with many diversions in between. Harwich was the usual route to Holland and they’d speculated that Arscott might have been intending to throw in his lot with the Dutch. There was at least one regiment of die-hard English republicans in Holland who hoped to overturn the restored Stuart monarchy. Arscott might well have had friends among them. But he’d never left England. Kilverdale had chased him on to a ship bound for Flanders and, rather than be taken, Arscott had jumped over the side. He’d tried to swim to shore, but his body had been found a couple of days later. So it was over.
Kilverdale had seen Desire and was walking towards her. She stopped and waited for him. She was still not entirely at ease at the prospect of talking to him, and a letter that Jakob had recently received from the Duke’s mother had rekindled some of her doubts about Kilverdale. But she no longer feared him and she was very grateful for all his efforts on her behalf.
‘My lady.’ He bowed before her. ‘I hope you got my letter telling you Arscott is dead.’
‘Yes, I did. Thank you.’ Desire took a steadying breath. ‘Thank you very much for all you have done for me,’ she said.
‘It was not very much.’ He hesitated, glancing away across the garden as if to give himself time to collect his thoughts, then he looked back at her. ‘I’d met Arscott before,’ he said, ‘though at that time I didn’t know his name.’
‘When?’ Desire was puzzled. Unlike Benjamin, the steward hadn’t been among those who’d accompanied her and her father to Kilverdale’s Sussex house.
‘When I followed you and Lord Larksmere back to London,’ said the Duke. ‘But when I went to Godwin House he told me— Arscott told me—your father had given orders I should be horse-whipped if I ever went near you again.’
‘What?’ Desire didn’t know if she was more shocked to discover Kilverdale had followed her or by what Arscott had told him. ‘Father never gave such an order! I’m sure of it.’
‘I believed it,’ said Kilverdale. ‘I could hardly blame him if he had.’
‘Why did you follow me?’ Desire asked curiously.
‘I was—am—sorry for what I said, for what you overheard me say,’ said the Duke. He spoke stiffly, though she sensed his reserved tone owed more to the inherent difficulty of apologising, rather than a haughty belief in his own superiority.
‘I was angry with Heyworth for arranging the marriage,’ he continued. ‘I wasn’t angry with you. You were just…there—where I didn’t want you to be. If you’d had fair hair, I’d have declared I only liked black-haired maids. What I said meant no more than that.’ He looked at her, his dark eyes steadily meeting her gaze. ‘I do not make excuses. I should not have said what I did. I am sorry.’
‘I see.’ Desire took a moment to compose herself. ‘Is that what you would have said to me six years ago if Arscott hadn’t denied you admittance?’
He smiled faintly. ‘More or less,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid it might have emerged a little more belligerently six years ago, but in my own defence I will say I followed you of my own free will. The apology would have been genuinely and freely offered.’
‘Even though the marriage proposal wasn’t,’ Desire murmured. ‘Yes, I understand. Thank you. I’m sorry Arscott denied you.’
‘You didn’t know.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘I hope we may now be friends,’ he said.
She smiled at Jakob as he joined them, then took the hand Kilverdale offered. ‘Since we are now cousins—at least by marriage—I hope so too,’ she replied.
‘Marriage?’ His eyes widened, then he broke into a delighted grin. ‘You have married Jakob already? Diable! Two marriages I have missed! Couldn’t you have waited another few weeks, coz? I would have celebrated your wedding with a good will.’
‘You are hardly in a position to complain,’ Jakob countered, putting his arms around Desire.
She leant back against him. It was still a new and wonderful pleasure to be close to him.
‘You didn’t invite us to your wedding,’ Jakob said to the Duke.
Kilverdale was momentarily baffled. ‘When I am married you will both be honoured guests—’ he began, and then broke off as Desire and Jakob exchanged glances. ‘What is it?’ he demanded.
‘We had a letter from your mother yesterday,’ said Jakob. ‘She thought you’d probably come here first when everything with Arscott was settled—’
‘Is she ill? Has something happened to Toby? What’s wrong?’
‘They are both in good health,’ said Desire quickly, seeing the sudden anxiety in his eyes. However questionable some of the Duke’s morals appeared to be, there was no questioning his love for his family.
‘It’s your health that’s in question,’ said Jakob.
‘My health?’ Kilverdale looked blank. ‘I’ve never felt fitter. What are you talking about?’
‘The young woman who recently arrived at Kilverdale Hall claiming to be your widow,’ said Jakob.
‘My…what?’
‘Or rather, Jack Bow’s widow,’ Jakob continued. ‘Your mother says the girl has your ring, and she claims you were married two days before the fire broke out. Apparently she went to find you at your favourite coffee house—asking for Jack Bow. She was told you were deceased, so she has gone to Sussex to claim her widow’s rights.’ Jakob grinned at his cousin’s dumbfounded expression. ‘Jack, what were you doing when you weren’t at home to receive that message I sent you from Newgate?’