“Anyway, I met this gentleman at Sir Arthur’s. We had a most pleasant dinner, and he suggested a few names I might look into.” He glanced at both women. “Nobody had heard a whisper of anyone named Streatford, I should add. That was my first question. If anyone holds a grudge against me, they are the obvious suspects.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that already,” Ivy agreed. “But if not them, who?”
“I recognised none of the names I heard. They were all simply mentioned in passing. Although…” he paused. “There was one name that occurred more than once. A Mr Barnet. Or Bartlett or something. He seemed to be known to several of the people I spoke to.”
“Did they describe him?” Elvina asked.
“Merely as a gentleman,” he sighed. “London born, apparently, but with a few business interests up there. A man few liked because of his quick temper and facility with a riding crop. But his business acumen was complimented a time or two, along with mention of his rather strong opinions about the behavior of his peers in general.”
“And no suggestion of any connection with you or the Maidenbrooke estate?”
There was silence for a few moments as the Duke looked away, clearly searching his memories for an answer to Ivy’s question.
“A whisper,” he said quietly. “There was something. Enough to set my mind working as to whether I could place the name.” He turned to Ivy. “I was returning from Sir Arthur’s…oh wait…I remember now…it was almost dark and I was headed back to the Pig and Peacock. The road was quiet and I was trying to recall if I knew anyone by that name and if so, why they would want to tarnish my reputation so badly…”
“And…” encouraged Ivy.
“And my horse shied.” His hands clenched on the bedclothes. “Dammit, Ivy, my horse threw me. A rabbit burst out onto the lane. I remember now. I lost my stirrup and went down roughly. My head…” He lifted his hand as the memory caught him. “I hit the ground. Hard. And I think I must have lost consciousness for a moment or two. The next thing I remember is a farmer helping me into it and driving me to the Pig and Peacock. They wanted me to eat dinner, but I couldn’t. My head ached too badly.” He sighed in frustration. “I wonder what happened to my horse. And if I could find that farmer, I’d thank him most sincerely and make sure he had some extra guineas.”
“Your horse is well and here in the stables, Colly. One must assume the farmer tied it to the gig, since it was at the Pig and Peacock when we arrived.”
“What a kind act,” said Elvina. “I have to wonder if you were attacked when you fell from your mount, your Grace. If you were unconscious, only for a few moments, that would have been the perfect time for it to happen…”
“You’re right,” added Ivy, with a shudder. “And if we accept your memory of events, then we have to assume the farmer’s appearance in the road at that precise moment seriously interfered with your assailant’s plans. I dread to think of the damage he might have inflicted if he’d had a few more minutes…”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” The Duke turned a sombre gaze to his wife. “I would have died. The bastard wanted to kill me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Dear God, he’s lucky,” said Judith, blowing out a gust of air from between her lips.
“Isn’t he, though,” added Rose, her eyes wide as she listened to Ivy relate the Duke’s experiences.
“And still no clue about the identity of either the attacker or the root of the rumours?” Lydia tilted her head to one side.
Ivy shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. Just the one name that Colly can’t quite recall.” She sighed. “I’m hoping that once he’s fully recovered, that memory will come back as well, and we’ll have something more definite to work with.”
“And he is doing well?” Rose asked. “His injuries are not that severe?”
“Thanks to Elvina, he is making a rapid recovery. A day or so more of rest and then I think we’ll have a hard time keeping him restricted to the house until he’s completely healed.”
Lydia chuckled. “Well, do reassure him we don’t expect to see you two dancing at the Wednesday Club for a week or two.”
Prudence peered around the door. “May I join you?”
“Of course, dear,” smiled Ivy. “Come on in. We were just reassuring ourselves that your Uncle is making good progress with his recovery.”
Prudence nodded. “He is indeed. I passed the room and he was yelling at Martin for something or other.”
“Poor lad,” sighed Ivy. “He is so happy to be a real valet. I do hope he doesn’t change his mind.”
“It’s unlike his Grace to yell,” mused Judith. “I have to believe that would be your influence, Ivy.”
The comment made everyone laugh as Ivy nodded ruefully. “I wouldn’t be surprised. But knowing him, it’s more likely to be frustration that he’s not up and doing.”
“I agree,” added Prudence. “I do wish we could do something a little more practical.” She looked at Lydia. “You’ve been out and about…all of you.” She included the others in her gaze. “Have you anything new on Miss Ringwood? Has anyone actually met her yet?”
Rose raised her hand. “I did. But for a very brief moment. She was with a small party at Hatchard’s the other morning. I knew one of the ladies she was with, and thus I gained an introduction. But it was extremely quick. I did manage to…er…catch a little of the conversation, however.”
“In other words, you eavesdropped,” giggled Lydia. “Well done, Rose.”
“It was purely accidental, I assure you.” Rose assumed a perfectly innocent demeanour which
