The Heart of a Duke (26 page)

Daniel paused and attempted a sheepish look. “I was hoping we could slip out your garden gate. There were a few cronies that recognized my coach and were hoping to have a word.” He smiled at Julia. “I promised my fiancée my undivided attention for the remainder of the day, and I would like to keep my word.”

“Of course; I understand.” Mr. Shaw grinned. “If you will follow me.”

They made their way outside, Julia’s hand on Daniel’s arm, where it was a perfect fit. He warily eyed the back alley before venturing forward.

“Not the most informative of visits. I doubt we will get much more from the gambler, but it’s still worth pursuing, for it is our last lead.” He could not keep the glum tone from his voice. Julia remained silent. “I will ask Robbie to keep searching the gambling hells to see if he can locate Charlie Shaw.” He stopped and grinned at Julia. “Actually, I have a better idea, it might cost a pretty coin, but it might be faster.”

Julia was casting furtive glances around, her hand tightening on his arm. “What is it? If it gets answers more quickly, it is money well spent.”

“I was thinking of hiring our infamous village poacher. Weasel could catch a rabbit in the desert. I am sure he could trap one cardsharp in a gambling hell. And he deserves the money after what my brother did to him.”

Julia squeezed his arm. “He does. Another brilliant business investment. Hire him, Daniel, so we can get answers and end this. This talk of betrayals frightens me.”

“Yes, ‘
something is rotten in the state of Denmark,
” he murmured, recalling having uttered the prophetic words when he had visited the grounds of Bedford Hall. Whatever the betrayal was, he worried that his father had planted the seeds that had grown into an “
unweeded garden
” with Edmund. He commiserated with Hamlet, hoping his father’s ghost would not return to haunt him.

“True. ‘
Things rank and gross in nature
,’” Julia rejoined.

He clamped his jaw at the despair in her voice, cursing himself for allowing her to be drawn into this quagmire. Seeing her fierce resolve, he knew he never had a choice. Warriors did not stay home, nor did his Maid Marian—as much as he wished it otherwise.

He hoped this last venture proved lucrative. Because Shaw’s bloody letter had been right.
It was time.

J
ULIA’S
steps were as heavy as her heart as they climbed the stairs to Keaton House. She ought to be worried about her ruination and the ensuing scandal, or her decision to accept Daniel’s proposal. Minus the ruination and scandal bit, that was what occupied the minds of most young women. Instead, she sought proof a duke was indeed a murderer and the motives behind his reasoning.

Daniel did this to her. From the moment he had stormed into her life, he was like a gust of wind that scattered her thoughts and swept her feet out from under her. She used to be a calm, responsible young woman. Now she was Maid Marian chasing after windmills. She pressed a hand to her temple, for she was mixing up her literary allusions. She needed time to herself to sort out all that Shaw had imparted, for something about it nagged at her.

However, the time was not now, for the minute the front door opened, she knew something was amiss. Burke, a butler known for being as unflappable as stone, was gray-tinged and wide-eyed. “Thank the lord,” he blurted, shocking Julia so much that she stood dumbfounded.

Daniel grasped her elbow and practically dragged her inside, letting Burke slam the door behind them. “What is it? What has happened?”

Burke recovered his composure, but his expression was still grim. “Everyone is well. You need to speak to Taunton.”

“Bryant. Come with me. Now.” Her father was storming out from the foyer leading to the guest quarters, Emily on his heels. His hair stood up straight as if he had attempted to pull it out.

Without a word, Daniel followed her father from the room.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Emily’s arms were around Julia, squeezing her tight.

Julia assured her sister she was all right and gently drew away, her heart nearly at a standstill as she took in Emily’s pallor. “What is it? What has happened?”

“It is Brett. He is all right, just a broken arm.” She hitched a breath. “Doctor Malley is in with him now. Robbie brought him here. We have been keeping Doctor Malley busy. What is going on, Julia?”

“Please, I will explain everything later. I promise. Tell me what happened?”

“Apparently someone shot at them. In Russell Square, no less.” She shook her head, her expression incredulous. “Robbie saw something, for he dove on Brett, pulling him down, but the horses shied from the noise. Robbie got them under control, but the curricle tipped over. Brett’s arm broke in his landing. Apparently, he’s not as hardy as Robbie.”

“No one is,” Julia commented ruefully, noting Emily’s use of Brett’s given name. It was something to file away for later when she had time to ponder it.

“Robbie is checking on the horses again, but father is fit to be tied, for Brett was tight-lipped about what happened. You need to intercede.” Emily gave her a worried look.

She nodded, her mind already down the hall. Thank the lord for Robbie or the horses or whoever deserved the credit for suspecting they were followed. She swallowed, not willing to contemplate what might have happened otherwise.

A maid directed her to the room where they had settled Brett, and she lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened and Doctor Malley emerged.

“Ah, Lady Julia. A pleasure, despite the circumstances. Once again, my work is done here. The young man shall be fine with a little rest. Send for me if the pain gets worse, or if he starts asking for his mother or his horse, and not necessarily in that order.” With a wink, he made to turn away. “Is Lady Emily around? She was distraught; I would like to assure her that her young man is well. Jason, is it?”

“Excuse me?” Julia whispered, feeling the blood drain from her face.

“My apologies, is that not his name? That is what Lady Emily called him.”

Julia dumbly shook her head. “She was mistaken. It is Brett. Brett Curtis.”

“Ah . . .” He looked puzzled. “Well, she was upset. I shall speak to her.”

He turned away, leaving Julia staring after him. Emily had been doing so well.
Was
doing so well. She refused to believe that had changed, but she could not fathom why she would confuse Brett with Jason. They shared similar coloring, blue eyes and fair hair, but therein the similarities ended. Brett was a head taller than Jason.
And
American. She frowned, forcing herself to put the matter aside for now.

She opened the door to Brett’s room and stepped out of the calm and into the wrath of Taunton. Her father was on a tirade. She knew from past experience, it was best to wait until the brunt of his anger had passed.

“What the devil were you thinking? Attempted murder? Twice? You think you can resolve matters better than the authorities? Were you planning to use the Manton? And what would happen then? Bedford is dead without incriminating evidence implicating him in anything, and you are standing there with the smoking gun.”

He had a point. Her father was pacing and when his back was to her, she wiggled her eyebrows at Daniel, who stood with hands clenched, looking annoyed. At her look, he loosened his stance, a rueful grin curving his lips.

“I don’t know what to believe. All of these accusations based on the word of some Weasel? Who is he? What is he? A poacher, you say?”

She ignored her father, who rambled on, and crossed to the bed to assess Brett’s condition. His expression assuaged her worries. He was sitting up, his hair tousled, a dazed grin on his features, and appearing highly entertained by her father’s monologue. She surmised Doctor Malley had given him something to dull the pain, for his pupils were like pinpricks and lacked their usual vibrancy. His splintered and bandaged arm rested on the covers. A new bruise bloomed on the cheek opposite his bruised eye.

He caught her hand. “Where did Emily go? I think I will heal quicker with her by my side.”

His words eradicated any lingering worry over his health; the handsome rake would be fine. It was her sister she needed to worry about. She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I will see that she returns,” she whispered, but her father heard her.

“And
you
, Julia. How long have you known about this? And when were you planning to tell me? Were you to marry the man one day and bury him the next?”

At her gasp, her father closed his eyes and pressed a hand against his temple. “My apologies. That was uncalled for.”

Only Brett appeared unperturbed. He waved his good arm dismissively. “Do not worry yourself. I have been saying the same thing. Tell him to go home every day. But you go on, your lordship, just keep talking. Scare some sense into him. He will not listen to me, but I am finding you need a fancy toff’s title to get things done around here. Good thing Daniel looks like Bedford and can borrow his.” Brett’s eyes were heavy-lidded, and a loopy smile split his face.

Julia blanched, her gaze shooting to Daniel, who groaned and swiped his hands down his face.

“Please tell me that is the laudanum talking,” her father warned.

This was why she hadn’t confided in her father or gone to the authorities. Their story was based on trust and instinct. She trusted Daniel, and instinct had her distrusting Edmund.

“Perhaps we should talk in your office,” Daniel hastily intervened. “He should get some sleep.”

“Brilliant idea, s’tired.” Brett murmured. “Have Emily come read me to sleep. She looks like an angel.” He closed his eyes and his breathing leveled, but the smile remained.

Daniel could not get her father out of the room fast enough, obviously fearing what else Brett would ask of Emily. “Sir?”

“Fine. I could use a drink. It’s the only way for this story to go down.”

T
WO HOURS AND
half a bottle of good brandy later, Taunton’s anger had been drowned out enough for him to hear the conviction in their words.

He slumped behind his desk and sighed, looking aged. “Christ. My Meg was right about you two as boys, but I was right about Edmund the man. She thought Julia would be a good influence over him, peel away his haughty veneer and find the man beneath the duke. My Meg said she had to do the same with me.” His words were soft, and his smile wistful. “I trusted her opinion more than my own, but I guess none of us can be right all the time or we’d be intolerable bores.” He lifted his drink and took another sip as if to ease the sting of his sainted wife being mistaken.

“My apologies, sir. I would have told you when I asked for Julia’s hand, but I was not certain then. Given your reaction to the news, you can understand my reservations. There is no evidence to bring to the authorities. We reported the attack at the docks, but that can be dismissed as a robbery gone awry, particularly in that area.”

Taunton nodded. “Yes, I understand.” He leaned forward. “We cannot bring charges against a duke of the realm lightly. What you have is a leaking boat. Too many holes and your story sinks. We need to stopper up the holes.”

Daniel swallowed at Taunton’s use of the word
we
, stunned at how deeply the man’s trust touched him. Next to Robbie, Brett, and now Julia, there were few people in his life who had trusted him on his word alone. There were benefits to being a member of a family, particularly the Chandler family, and each day he was learning to not only appreciate them, but to lean on them.

Julia circled her father’s desk and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Pray tell, for what? Not killing him or turning you over my knee as I should have?”

“For believing us.”

Daniel quickly dropped his gaze to his drink. He had never been an
us
before either. He hoped this meant that Julia would finally agree to marry him.

“It’s the damnedest thing, but I do.” Taunton sighed. “So let us get to the bottom of this. Stopper up the holes. What would he be willing to kill for?”

Julia frowned. “We have been going on the assumption that your father left you something in his will that Edmund wants. But Shaw’s son spoke of his father worrying over a betrayal. What if it isn’t something your father left you, but something he did. A betrayal he committed.”

“It makes sense,” Daniel agreed. “My father could have had Shaw draw up documents in an attempt to right the wrong done. Doctor Reilly might have learned of the betrayal through being present at my father’s conversations with Shaw or through my father’s sickbed rambles. But when my father died, Edmund likely refused to honor whatever wishes my father had put forward. Instead, he bought Shaw and Doctor Reilly’s silence and they bled him dry, thus Edmund’s debts and the bleeding of his own estates.

“Shaw must have kept the damning document, blackmailed Edmund with it, and threatened Edmund that if anything were to happen to him, it would be made public.” Daniel had started to pace, but he stopped. “It is little wonder Edmund spent a fortnight drinking himself sick over my father’s death.”

“Hmph,” Taunton emitted his usual eloquent opinion. “That still circles us back to the same question. What the devil can it be?”

“It is something Abel Shaw planned to give you, making you privy to the betrayal.” Julia added to Daniel’s words. “Edmund must be afraid you would make it public rather than collude with him to bury the scandal. Because you have integrity and he does not,” Julia said, her chin jutted out firmly and her eyes shining as they met his.

He beamed back at her. Murder, mayhem, and betrayals forgotten. For the moment, there was just Julia and how magnificent she was.

“Hmph.”

Taunton’s grunt snapped him out of his reverie. Damned if his cheeks didn’t burn.

Julia covered her mouth, barely stifling her laughter.

Grinning, he yanked his eyes from hers, needing to focus. “It has to be something that irrevocably tarnishes the illustrious title, for God knows, that is all Edmund gives a whit about.” Weariness settled over him, as they kept traveling over the same well-trodden path.

“What if you and Edmund aren’t the rightful heirs,” Taunton suggested.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Your parents were in despair over getting an heir to the dukedom. Your mother had lost so many children, Daniel, a full dozen. What if when she died, the child she birthed died with her?” He waved his brandy glass as if to direct them to fill in the rest.