The Heart of a Duke (3 page)

“After you,” he said. “Ah, is it still in the loft above the stables?”

Robbie looked affronted. “I’ll have you know that like you, my prospects have improved over the past decade. As the heir apparent, I have a real office now.”

Daniel fell into step beside Robbie as they strolled down the lane abutting the paddock. They passed through a gate and along a slate path leading to the limestone manor. The afternoon sun glinted off the mullioned bay windows, and ropes of ivy plastered the façade in a dark green web. The garden beds abutting the walkway and lining the perimeter of the house were wild and unkempt, similar to the Tanner brood.

“Of course, with six brothers biting at my heels, I do have to share some of the space. But no worries, I keep the good whiskey locked up tight, and I am the only one with the key.” He winked at Daniel and patted his jacket pocket. “Besides, the lot of them will be at the fair now. You chose a good time to return.”

“I thought you wrote that some of your brothers had married.” He followed Robbie inside and down the front hall. Kitchen odors of cinnamon and apples mingled with the smells of lemon polish and laundry soap. His stomach rumbled as he recalled rhubarb custard pie and mouthwatering apple tarts. He hoped Robbie might serve something of sustenance with that whiskey.

“Alas, a few were not as fleet of foot as I, and the fillies corralled them into matrimony. You’d be hard pressed to recognize the poor blokes with their moon-eyed looks and besotted grins. ’Tis a sorry sight, and you are fortunate to be spared the spectacle.”

“Good thing you have fast feet.” He dubiously eyed Robbie’s tree trunk thighs and thick calves, but recalling his dexterity with the fence, withheld comment.

“Too true.” Robbie agreed affably as he entered his office. “And yourself? Your letters contained a glaring paucity of kiss-and-tell, so I take it you are still in the bachelor state?”

“Most definitely,” Daniel responded quickly, even as his thoughts drifted to Lady Julia Chandler. Their kiss was another detail best kept to himself.

Robbie’s office appeared part business and part makeshift storage room. Bridles, reins, and sundry other equestrian detritus littered the room. The equipment competed with stacks of papers and ledgers shoved haphazardly onto shelves lining one wall. Two desks filled the space and Robbie cleared one of a stack of leather-bound ledgers. “Bit of clutter here, wasn’t expecting company. Just dig out a seat.”

Daniel removed a pair of stirrups from a chair and brushed it clean before lifting his jacket and daring to sit.

Circling his desk, Robbie leaned over and fiddled with the lock on a drawer. Rummaging inside, he withdrew a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers.

He quirked a brow as Robbie generously filled the glasses.

He handed Daniel his, raising his own in a toast. “To the return of a long lost friend. May he be forever found.”

Daniel paused in lifting his drink, staring at Robbie, who drained his glass in one fluid swallow.

Wiping his mouth with his hand, Robbie grunted. “Can’t understand why neither of my brothers allowed me to toast them at their wedding.”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea.” He commented dryly, struggling to keep his expression blank as he savored his whiskey at a slower pace.

“Now then,” Robbie said, dropping into his desk chair, leaning back, and studying him. “While I am delighted to be toasting your return, I have to ask, were you so busy running your company that you couldn’t let me know you were returning for a visit? You might think mills, timber, and transatlantic shipping routes make for edifying reading, but if you were planning a trip home, you might have saved my eyes from glazing over. You could have caught me up in person.”

His lips twitched at Robbie’s cavalier dismissal of his now-prosperous company, Curtis Shipping. He had launched the enterprise with an American friend, Brett Curtis, well over eight years ago. However, news of the company filled the London financial pages as the firm recently expanded its ports from London into Bristol and Liverpool. Brett had accompanied Daniel on this voyage to visit their London office and oversee the expansion. “My apologies that the last ten years of my life made for such dull reading. Next time I’ll add salacious details.”

“Now those letters I would have finished!” Robbie grinned, unrepentant.

He laughed. “Truth be told, I was a bit buried in work, so your reading material would have been slim to none.”

“My favorite kind. Listen to you. You sound like a tradesman or an American. Don’t know what your aristocratic peers will make of you now.”

Daniel stiffened. “I don’t give a damn for their opinions.”

“Now you’re sounding like yourself.” Robbie beamed, delighted. “So what brings you home? When you left England, you vowed never to return.”

He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, withdrew the enigmatic missive from the solicitor, and tossed it onto Robbie’s desk. “This planted the seed.”

Robbie eyed the note curiously before reading.

Daniel sprang to his feet, too restless to sit. He sipped his whiskey and paced the confines of the office, careful to avoid the debris littering the floor.

“Why wasn’t this addressed to Bedford? Shouldn’t your father’s solicitor be contacting him?” Robbie furrowed his brow.

“He probably wrote to both of us.” He shrugged.

“What destiny are you to claim?” Robbie held up the letter to the ribbon of light streaming through the window. He scrunched up his features and examined the paper as if the light would magically illuminate the answers he sought.

“That’s not relevant. It is the first line that brought me back.”

Robbie looked at the note, then at him, frowning. “It is time?”

“Exactly.” He stopped before Robbie’s desk and brandished his glass at him, excitement lacing his words. “It
is
time. Ten years ago, I left with nothing but the clothes on my back and a paltry savings. I lost everything when Lakeview Manor burned to the ground. Well, it
is
time. Time to get it all back. Time I rebuild what’s mine. What I lost.” His voice lowered. “What we both know was stolen from me.”

“You are going to rebuild Lakeview Manor?”

“I am.” He nodded. “A decade ago, I did not have the resolve or the capital to succeed. To rebuild as I wanted or needed to. But today I can, thanks to Curtis Shipping.”

Robbie set the letter down and quietly assessed him. “You do remember why you left?”

He paused, the silence echoing between them as the years fell away. Orange flames and a thick, suffocating wall of gray smoke flashed before him. Escaping the fire, Daniel had sought refuge at the Tanners’, where he had been given the care he never would have received at Bedford Hall. After the reading of his father’s will a fortnight before, Edmund had kicked Daniel out of the house and was busy drowning himself in drink. Sober, Edmund would have lamented Daniel’s survival rather than his burned flesh.

As Daniel healed, stories had circulated that the curtains had caught fire, and thanks had been given that the house had stood empty. Daniel hadn’t bothered to correct the misinformation. Having lost all he had ever cared about, he hadn’t given a damn, and had eventually sailed to America with Brett, never looking back. Until now.

He shook off the old nightmare and lifted his chin. “I do.”

“For God’s sake, Daniel.” Robbie leaned forward, his tone heated, his eyes hard. “Someone tried to kill you. They burned your house to the ground with you in it. You barely made it out alive.”

“I am well aware of that.” He kept his voice level, despite his strained patience. “I am the one carrying the scars, so you can be sure I will not ever forget.”

“What makes you think that whoever wanted you dead isn’t around to finish the job today?”

“It’s another reason I have returned. It is time to catch the bastard. To get justice.”

“And how do you propose to do that ten years later?” Robbie scoffed. “You didn’t know who set the fire back then, have you learned something new?”

“No, but I intend to.” He frowned, irked at his mulish tone.

Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, Robbie refilled his glass and topped off Daniel’s. “To a man with a death wish. Can your partner manage the firm without you?”

“He can, but I am not planning on his needing to. My thanks for your support.” He lifted his drink and took a sip, seeking to wash away his friend’s cynicism.

The distant whine of a horse and clatter of dishes drifted to them. Robbie blew out a breath. “All right. I will bite. How the hell are we going to catch the bastard?”

“I heard them that night,” he confided. He perched on Robbie’s desk, his words passionate. “It’s what saved my life, because it woke me up. Their voices carried across the lake. If I heard them, someone else may have as well. Someone might have seen something.”

“Are you planning to ask around? Post a notice asking anyone with information to come forward?”

He bristled at the skepticism lacing Robbie’s words. “There will be no posting of any notices. This has to be done quietly. I intend to speak to a select few who might know something. I will inform them that information is sought about the fire and ask them to spread the word that there is money to be had for any intelligence provided. Nothing might come of it, but I need to do this, Robbie. I don’t want vengeance, but I deserve justice. Help me to get it.” His finger tapped the discarded letter as he pressed his point home. “It
is
time. Past time.”

Robbie scowled, and then swiped his hands down his face and muttered a few ripe curses beneath his breath. “Fine, fine. But God knows if you want it done quietly, we can’t have the long lost lord waltzing home and asking suspicious questions. No lid will keep that cover on for long. It will simmer and boil over right quick.
I
will
do the asking. Hell, after ten years away, you wouldn’t know whom to ask anyway.”

The lost lord?
And he never waltzed. “Thank you, Robbie. I knew I could count on you.”

Robbie’s sharp brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you planned this from the start, keep that to yourself. I do not care to know you talked me into another one of your bloody schemes. To know you still can. One of these days I’m going to stop listening. And then where will you be?”

Daniel smiled, the knot of tension within him unfurling. “I would be lost without you.” He lifted his glass in a toast.

“Very true, and don’t you forget it.” Robbie sipped his whiskey and eyed Daniel over its rim. “So you are here to rebuild Lakeview Manor and catch a murderer. You will be busy.”

He paused and rubbed his neck. “Ah, there is one other item.”

“Finding a murderer before he finds you is not enough to keep you busy?”

He sighed. “I am aware of the dangers posed in my opening this investigation. I will watch my back, Robbie, but I doubt whoever tried to kill me is waiting in the wings to strike again after all this time.”

“You may be right, but we don’t know why they tried the first time. They might still harbor motive,” Robbie pointed out. “What is the other item?”

“It is about my brother’s betrothal to Lady Julia Chandler. Why hasn’t Edmund set a wedding date yet?” The question had been on his mind ever since his lips had touched Julia’s. She was a temptress incarnate. If she were his, he would have wedded and . . . He did not let himself finish the thought.

She was not his. Could never be.

Lady Julia Chandler was marriage material, and as Daniel had assured Robbie, he was an emphatic bachelor. A wife and family were ties that bound, and he preferred his life unfettered. Always had.

Surprise crossed Robbie’s face at the change in topic. “Well, I’m not in His Grace’s confidences, for he doesn’t condescend to speak to me as a peer. But it was my understanding that Lady Julia postponed the nuptials first when her mother died, and then after her sister lost her fiancé. I mentioned those events in my letters.”

So it was Julia, not Edmund. It was understandable she would not abandon her father or Emily while they grieved. Apparently, he had fate and family loyalty to thank for saving her from Edmund thus far.

He jerked as Robbie’s fist pounded his desk, snapping him from his thoughts.

“Damn it, man! That is what you need to accomplish while you are here. Forget the murder mystery. Stop Lady Julia from marrying that stuffed-up, no-good, bloody bastard!”

His eyes locked with Robbie’s and his lips curved. “My thoughts exactly.”

Robbie’s fierce expression eased, and he grinned. “So then. We’ll add that to your agenda. What do we have so far? Rebuild Lakeview Manor, find out who tried to murder you, keep them from killing you, and break up Lady Julia and your brother’s engagement. That is, without ruining her, which could be complicated . . .” Robbie’s words trailed off, and he furrowed his brow as if mulling over a difficult equation.

Daniel grunted at Robbie’s colossal understatement. One did not sever a betrothal contract to a duke with impunity, but it couldn’t be helped. It had to be done. Julia deserved better. He just had to figure out how the devil to do it. These things had to be done delicately.

“Did I leave anything out?” Robbie interrupted his thoughts.

“That ought to cover it.” He smiled at the teasing glint in Robbie’s eyes. “Too much?”

“Nah, nothing to it. Just don’t catch the first boat home.” Robbie winked before his mien turned serious. “Actually, there is another matter. You need to go to Bedford Hall and see your father’s estate before Edmund runs it into the ground.”

His humor fled. “Is it still bad?”

Robbie nodded. “It is. I know you don’t give a damn about your brother, but Bedford Hall was once your home, too, and the tenants were your father’s people. You might want to have a look. See if there is anything you can do.”

Conflicting emotions warred within him. His childhood years had been cold, lonely, and abusive under Edmund’s fists. But splashes of light had sporadically illuminated the darkness.

He recalled his father seeking him out to ride over the estate, meet with tenants, and discuss his plans for the land. Like water given to a desert traveler, he had lapped up every moment, desperate to fill the cavernous hole of his loneliness. It served to remind him that his father hadn’t entirely forgotten him.