The Forgotten Duchess

Chapter Forty-Nine | Torture

VIVIENNE REMAINED FROZEN, as her uncle's dark green eyes pierced hers. "Vivienne, move away from the door," he commanded gruffly.

Vivienne stayed rooted in her place. If she moved a meter, she was sure that her legs would give out.

"Now!" he yelled, his voice booming in the room and making Vivienne flinch.

He had never raised his voice with her, but she had also never seen the manic look in his eyes. Holding onto the wall for support, she forced herself to move a few feet away from the door. Seemingly satisfied with her move, her uncle began pacing again, his cane dragging across the floor in a noisy fashion. He paused in front of the small window before peering out. She saw his body still at whatever the scene outside was.

Slowly, he turned back to her, fear illuminating his face. "I need to know where the letters are Vivienne! Our safety depends on it. I thought they wouldn't follow us out here, but I am not sure anymore."

Vivienne swallowed, as her eyes went back to the pistol he held in his hand.

"For goodness sakes, I'm not going to shoot you," he snapped.

"Your-r--not?"

"If I wanted you to be dead, it would have happened already," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Focus, I need to know where the letters are. I've searched the entire manor and the only thing that makes sense is for my brother to have left them to you."

"I don't know what letters you are talking about!" Vivienne said in frustration.

"Think about places which would make the perfect hiding spot," her uncle said in a hard voice. "If we don't find them," he swallowed, "it just won't be my life they are after. They've seen you and will want to make sure their secrets are kept."

Vivienne shivered, as she remembered the times she'd often felt a presence, evidently someone following her outside. "Who's they?"

"The French!" her uncle said, as he leaned into one of the crates. He paused, glancing at her as if surprised by his answer. His eyes twitched before he went back to watching outside, his fingers gripping the pistol tightly. "This is not good," he muttered. "I don't see them."

"But we are on the water, surely that means it might be difficult for them to catch up to us?"

Her uncle's eyes seemed much older and melancholy, and she saw the visible tension with the deep lines on his forehead. "We cannot underestimate them. I made that fatal mistake once and it resulted in the death of my brother and the Duke of Lennox."

Vivienne gasped, surprised that her uncle had let out such a large secret. All James had told her about her father was that he had passed in a carriage incident, but that no longer seemed to be the truth. She walked towards her uncle, even as the ship swayed. "You must tell me what happened," she begged him, trying to meet his eyes even as her uncle looked away.

"Please," her voice came out hoarse and scratchy, "I need some peace regarding his death. I deserve to know."

Her uncle sighed, resigned he leaned back onto one of the crates, gripping his silver walking cane. "I don't know how much time we have but I might as well tell you the entire tale."

Lord Westmorland looked at his injured leg, his dark eyes filled with pain. Vivienne sat on one of the crates across from him. "I had been quite young, just left Eton, but I knew there was no place for me. My brother married a beautiful American heiress to restore our coiffure, which had been severely depleted by our father's gambling habits. I had been foolishly pining over a lady in London but because I was the second son, her parents did not approve the union. Eventually, they came to an arrangement with another Viscount, who had a tidy sum of wealth."