Free The Duke's Legacy by Wendy Soliman Page B

you, but your assailant appears to be getting more desperate by the day. Be on your guard at every moment and trust no one.”

Chapter Six
    “Thank you, Uncle Bertram.”
    Abbey accepted her uncle’s hand as he assisted her from their travelling chaise. She pulled her velvet pelisse more closely about her, grateful for its enveloping warmth. There was a crispness in the Lincolnshire air, thick frost under foot and the promise of snow in the dark clouds that threatened directly overhead. Perhaps that was a good thing. If Lord Denver was close upon their heels, he could site the inclement weather as an excuse for breaking his journey.
    Although Abbey hadn’t seen anything of the gentlemen who occupied so many of her thoughts for the rest of her stay in London, she’d done her best to heed his warning. She diligently ensured she was always within sight of her aunt or cousin at assemblies, never accepting anything to eat or drink unless she observed others partaking from the same dish before she did. She avoided un-used corridors, declined all invitations to stroll on terraces, to say nothing of all the other ingenious attempts some of the more determined gentlemen made to get her alone.
    The initial interest displayed in her showed no sign of abating and the pattern of her life was no longer hers to dictate. She’d been impatient to experience all the diversions that society had to offer, but after two short weeks of endless activity their attraction was already starting to pall.
    “Let’s get inside, my dear.” Uncle Bertram took her elbow. “I think we’ve arrived just ahead of the snow.”
    The snow did materialise, nor did Lord Denver. Abbey hid her disappointment as she greeted the arrival of their guests at various intervals during the course of the afternoon. There was little formality required in this duty, but at least it provided a useful distraction from her continuous thoughts of Sebastian Denver. When would he arrive? What excuse would he offer and would his presence arouse suspicions? The waiting and her growing unease were starting to tell upon Abbey. The knowledge that her aggressor was very likely already in this room, planning his next attempt on her life, added to her discomfort. She surreptitiously glanced at the faces of the gentleman already assembled, trying to detect signs of guilt or calculation in their countenances, observing instead only open friendliness.
    It was hopeless!
    Abbey shook off her worries when her friend Laura Graves arrived. Laura was far too loyal to be involved in any plots against her, nor did she have any reason to be. But Abbey resisted the urge to confide in her, mainly because Lord Denver had emphasised the importance of not telling anyone about her suspicions.
    Simon Graves remained tenaciously at his sister’s side, which meant he also remained close to Abbey. He was even larger than ever, clearly in pain from his gout, but entertaining company for all that. He spoke with enthusiasm, and at some length, about the opening meet on the morrow.
    “Will you be able to hunt tomorrow do you suppose, Mr. Graves, since your leg is clearly paining you?”
    Abbey regretted her question when Mr. Graves pounced upon the opportunity she’d unwittingly created.
    “I fear not.” he said, with less than convincing regret. “But I’m not downhearted, I can assure you. Someone must stay behind and bear you company. I don’t like to think of you being left to your own devices for an entire day.”
    “How kind of you, but I wouldn’t put you to the trouble. My aunt and cousin will not take to the field so I won’t lack for company. Besides, even though I won’t be joining the hunt, that doesn’t preclude me from riding to the meet and seeing them away. Since you’re clearly incapacitated, it probably wouldn’t be wise for you to follow my example.”
    Simon Graves accepted Abbey’s rebuff with good grace. Even so, the exchange left her feeling uncomfortable. He had never