Page 75 of The Duke's Only Desire

Chapter Twenty-Two

The bell overthe apothecary’s door jangled in the cold air the next morning as Shay stepped aside to let Sophie pass into the warmth of the little shop. He threw a glance over his shoulder to make certain the boy he’d promised a coin to for holding the sleigh horse was capable, then stomped off the snow clinging to his boots and followed her inside.

Miss Danvies stepped out of the back room, wiping her hands on her apron, and came around from behind the counter to greet them. She bobbed a curtsey. “Your Graces.” She gave them a warm—if puzzled—smile. “What brings you to my shop? Henley usually sends one of the footmen if anything’s needed.”

“We’ve come to ask a favor,” Sophie began.

Shay placed his hand on her arm to warn her. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.” Concern darkened the midwife’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“If anyone asks why we were here, you’re to tell them that the duchess is suffering terrible headaches and needed a powder to ease her pain,” Shay ordered. They had let it be known among the house servants that the reason they were coming into the village was because Sophie was suffering headaches because they’d spent the night fighting. The implication was that their marriage was nearing a breaking point. He wanted Malcolm’sspies to believe it. “No one is to know the truth of what we discuss this morning, not even your closest friends or family. Understand?”

Miss Danvies’s face paled. “Of course.”

“We need your help.” Sophie stepped forward and beseechingly took the woman’s hands. Shay had no idea what kind of friendship the two had struck in the time Sophie had been at Ravenscroft, but Sophie trusted her. Which meant Shay trusted her. “I can’t tell you why.” Sophie cast a glance over her shoulder at Shay for silent reassurance. “But it’s important.” Sophie lowered her voice, as if afraid someone might overhear. “About five years ago, there was a fire at Ravenscroft Manor.”

“I remember. Lord John died.” The midwife lifted her eyes to Shay. “And you were hurt. No one thought you would survive.”

Shay said nothing and instead lowered his gaze as he fussed with his leather driving gloves. Finding the lightskirt John had tupped that night was Sophie’s wild goose chase, not his. He was more than happy to remain out of it.

“But someone else was there that night,” Sophie continued. “A woman. We think she might have been a barmaid named Cora. You seem to know everyone in the area. We thought you might know her, too. Or perhaps you know her family, who might tell us where we could find her.” When the woman didn’t answer, Sophie pressed on. “You see, we need to speak with her. It’s a bit important.”

Thatwas the understatement of the year. But the less Miss Danvies knew, the better.

“I see.” Miss Danvies darted her gaze between Shay and Sophie. “I’m not certain how much help I can be in finding her, but I do know her—that is, I used to. Her name is Cora White. She worked in Pelton at the Royal Oak about five years ago.”

Pelton…a village about ten miles to the south. But of course, she wouldn’t have lived on one of the estate villages. Even John knew better than to plow in his own backyard. “A lightskirt?”

“Barmaid,” Miss Danvies corrected. “Her parents had more children than beds, and so when Cora had the opportunity to leave the family cottage, she took it. The job provided room and board above the tavern, and she was even able to give a few coins to her family every now and then. Not an easy existence, but she was doing as well for herself as she could. I’m certain she was hoping to marry a groom or hosteller.”

Shay held back a grimace. Unfortunately, she’d crossed John’s path instead.

“Where can we find her?” Sophie asked.

“I’m not certain you’ll be able to.” Miss Danvies circled around behind the counter and busied herself with filling small packets with a dried green-grey herb, most likely just to keep her hands busy during this odd conversation. “I haven’t seen her in several years.”

Sophie’s stiff posture wavered. “You said she had family nearby. Would they know how to find her?”

“Most likely not.” She placed her hands flat on the countertop and blew out a hard breath. “They disowned her when they found out she was with child and had no way to marry herself out of scandal.” Her eyes met Shay’s. “The father was dead, you see.”

Shay knew…Christ.“John.”

“I believe so. Cora never revealed his name, but I suspected… It was obvious with how agitated she became whenever the fire and his death were mentioned.”

“She conceived the night of the fire,” Sophie murmured.

“Most likely.” Miss Danvies turned her attention back to the herbs, but she wasn’t packaging them as much as simply sifting them idly through her fingers. “She was too ashamed to letanyone in Pelton know what happened, so when she could no longer hide her situation, she asked for my help. She stayed with me until I delivered her baby.”

“What was it?” Shay asked quietly. Not that it mattered. The child was a bastard, regardless, and could never inherit the title. But for some inexplicable reason, the baby mattered.

“A girl.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Cora owned a little cravat pin in gold with a ruby capping it, so she named the baby Ruby. Said it was the only thing of value the baby’s father ever gave her.”

Shay knew better. John hadn’t given it to her. He was too selfish. Most likely, the pin fell off while they’d been having sex and she picked it up…or the woman simply stole it for her troubles when John was too drunk to notice. Shay didn’t blame her.

“When the baby was old enough to travel, Cora left. She wasn’t able to stay in the area unless she wanted to bring shame to her family, who had refused to help her, so she had no choice but to leave unless she wanted to starve to death.” Bitterness seeped from her voice. “The parish wouldn’t have given her charity, and the poor house wouldn’t have taken her with a baby in tow.”

“But you helped her, didn’t you?” Sophie asked, although it wasn’t truly a question.