“Would you say I’m blindly loyal to the king because of my father?”
Davenport sighed as he perched on the arm of Justin’s chair. “I’d say your guilt drives you. I’m not saying you should abandon your loyalty because of it. You know the flaws in Prinny’s character, and I have every faith that you understand that loyalty to him can sometimes mean doing what’s best for him even when he doesn’t realize it.”
Justin frowned. “Are you suggesting I let the letters fall into the hands of Brougham, or Howick, or whoever the Whig party has searching for them?”
“Howick,” Davenport replied. “Brougham wants to destabilize the Tory party, and that’s dangerous at this time. I’m suggesting that once you secure the letters, you speak privately with Howick. He could use one of those letters to stop this nonsense about the king divorcing the queen. I’d say the letter needs to be one that is particularly embarrassing but cannot threaten the throne.”
“I hate to admit it, but I have a certain admiration for Howick,” Justin said.
“Yes,” Davenport drawled. “The man is cunning while being ethical and not blinded like Canning.”
“Canning? What of him? Has he involved himself in this mess?” The President of the Board of Trade was a Tory, but Justin also knew the man was secretly in love with the queen. Caroline, in her understandable despair of being utterly rejected by Prinny after they’d married, had turned to Canning. Justin only knew because his father had told him. No one spoke of it. Not the king, not the queen, and certainly not Canning. Justin’s father had also told him that Canning and Caroline had produced a child from their affair. She had taken pains to hide her pregnancy and gone so far as to flee to a secluded castle. The child had been immediately sent away, as if he’d never existed.
“He has. You’d likely not know because you were away in Paris until a few nights ago, but Canning has threatened to resign his office over the king’s treatment of the queen. Wouldn’t you say that’s quite the public profession of the depths of the man’s feelings for her?”
Justin and Davenport had never once discussed Canning and the queen. There had never been a reason, but now there was a very immediate one, though Justin suspected from Davenport’s knowing look and words that his friend had already gleaned that the queen and Canning had been in love, and perhaps still were.
“I’d say that if Canning was bold enough to publicly threaten to quit office over the queen’s treatment, he is a man who would go to great lengths to protect her.”
“He’s not bold enough on his own,” Davenport said. “Don’t forget that.” He stood and stretched his arms wide. “I’m sure I don’t have to warn you to be wary of Canning. He’s a Tory, but his heart belongs to the queen; therefore, his loyalty lies with her.”
Justin nodded. “No warning needed. If you have any spare time and you want to follow Canning and report to me on his comings and goings, I’d be grateful.”
Davenport grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask me that.”
Behind Justin, a door creaked. He turned in time to see Davenport’s wife, Lady Audrey, breeze into the room. She paused between Davenport and Justin, regarded them both with narrowed green eyes and then set her hands on her hips as she turned the full force of her ire toward her husband. “You were hoping the duke would ask you what?”
“Darling,” Davenport replied in a soothing tone as he moved toward his wife and wrapped his arms around her, “when will you accept that I will tell you all later? You can quit eavesdropping at my door.”
Audrey bit her lip and offered a shrug and a sheepish look. “I’m uncertain. Truly, I don’t mean to listen, but I’ve an ever-present fear you’ll become bored with domestic life and go back to your old profession.”
Justin tensed, as he always did when reminded that Davenport had told his wife he’d been a spy for the king. Of course, his friend had not revealed anything about Justin or the other spies, but he’d explained he could not keep the secret of who he’d been from his wife because it cast too much doubt in her mind.
Davenport gave Audrey a peck on her cheek. “No man could ever be bored with you, darling. You’re a constant surprise, and it takes all my cunning skills to keep track of your comings, goings, and plots.”
“I don’t plot,” she said with a playful pout.
“You do,” Davenport teased. “You most definitely do.”
Justin watched the exchange and his gut tightened as he realized that he was envious of the openness and obvious trust between them. Davenport had told his wife all his secrets. Justin’s secrets were locked inside him, and he’d never have anyone to share them with. But he’d chosen that.
“You’ve not answered my question, dearest,” Audrey said. “What were you hoping the duke would ask you?”
“He was hoping,” Justin answered to save Davenport from feeling as if he had to be evasive to his wife, “that I’d ask him to follow Lord Canning.”
“Canning?” Lady Audrey frowned. “Why do you care what Lord Canning is doing?”
“I care because our political views are not lining up lately, and I’m concerned he’s trying to thwart something I’m striving to achieve. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going.”
“Don’t leave on my account,” she said hurriedly.
“I’m not,” he assured her as he moved toward the door. “I’ve promised someone I’d do them a favor.”
Lady Audrey grinned at him. “A lady?”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because of the look that came over your face just now. The one that says a man’s heart is engaged.”
Justin scowled. “I barely know the lady, and my heart is most certainly not engaged.”
“If you say so,” Lady Audrey replied in a placating tone, but as he was walking out the door, he heard her tell Davenport, “Dinnisfree’s heart is most definitely engaged if he’s doing the lady a favor.”
Justin stalked to the front door with her words echoing in his head. He’d know if his own damnable heart was engaged. It wasn’t. Yet, as he climbed into his carriage and set out toward Arabella’s home, his body hummed with anticipation. Damnation. His mission was not on his mind as it should be. She was in his thoughts. Her smile. Her concern for him when she’d tried to warn him that smuggling was bad. And her complete devotion to her father. Not to mention her creamy thighs and the feel of her breasts in his hands and mouth.
He groaned in irritation that he could not block her from his thoughts as he normally could do with anything. And then he began to count.
Arabella stood in front of Mrs. Henderson’s desk with Justin by her side. By her side. She still felt as if she should pinch herself. Since meeting Justin, he’d done everything he’d said he was going to do and more. Not only had he provided a means for saving herself and her parents but he’d cared enough to offer his personal physician for her father, and now he was helping her with her mother’s situation.
Mrs. Henderson’s mouth was still hanging open. It had been that way since she had learned who Justin was. Arabella cleared her throat, and Mrs. Henderson finally drew her gaze to Arabella. “This is for payment for this month and the next.”
“The next, as well?” the woman exclaimed.
Arabella nodded, feeling a little shameful about how nice it felt to finally have the upper hand, but not so shameful that she didn’t intend to use it to protect her mother. “That’s what I said,” she replied, making her tone forceful. “It also includes the extra fee to have a guard other than your son attend my mother. And speaking of my mother, I’ll take her ring back now.” Arabella held out her hand.
With a huff, Mrs. Henderson opened her desk drawer, produced the ring, and deposited it into Arabella’s palm. Happiness filled her as she slipped her mother’s ring back onto her finger. Standing by Justin, she felt bolstered. “I’d like your promise that you will keep your word about the guard.”
The woman waved her hand negligently in the air while gazing down at
the money in her hands. “I already told you I’d make sure of it.”
Arabella gritted her teeth at the woman’s petulant tone. She opened her mouth to restate her request when Justin stepped forward and slapped his palm on Mrs. Henderson’s desk. The inkpot rattled and a book that had been sitting on the edge slid off and fell to the floor with a loud thwack. Arabella gawked as he leaned forward until his face was inches from Mrs. Henderson’s.
“My dear lady, I’m afraid I have to take exception to how rudely you are speaking to Miss Carthright.” His voice was cool, collected, and unbendable. “She made a simple request. You should have given your word immediately. If you had meant to keep your promise, this would not have been a problem, yet you and I both know you didn’t intend to do anything of the sort.”
“I—” Mrs. Henderson started, but Justin gave her a look that could have cut stone and she fell silent.
“No man whose honor is questionable should have the care of others in his hands,” he said. “Are we clear?”
Mrs. Henderson’s face turned red. “My son—”
“Should be dismissed from employment here,” Justin interrupted in a stern tone.
Emboldened by Justin’s confidence that he’d get what he wanted, Arabella said, “The men who work here should also be required to go through a very thorough interview of their character. And they should be observed without advanced warning on a regular basis.” There. She’d blurted her greatest hope for her mother’s care.
She glanced sideways at Justin to see if he was looking at her as if she was a fool. As their gazes locked, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes glistened with what appeared to be admiration.
Mrs. Henderson snorted. “Who are you to make demands of me?” she snapped at Arabella.
“I’ve every right to expect my mother not be subjected to abuse from your son,” Arabella retorted.
Mrs. Henderson gave Arabella a wide, annoying smirk. “The only person who can make such demands on me is Lord Stanhope, as the owner of this home.”
“I happen to know Lord Stanhope very well,” Justin said in a bored tone. “He’s stretched quite thin with all his holdings these days, Mrs. Henderson. In fact, he recently approached me about acquiring one of his outstanding loans from him, and now that I think about it, he mentioned the loan on this home in particular.” He flicked his gaze around the room and finally settled it back on Mrs. Henderson. “I’ve decided just now to take him up on the offer.” Justin smiled even as his eyes turned cold as the thick ice of the Thames in the dead of winter. “Either dismiss your son today, Mrs. Henderson, or the first thing I’ll do is terminate you and your son.”
Arabella tugged on Justin’s sleeve and he turned to her. “Her husband is the physician here.”
He smiled grimly. “And your husband will be let go, as well. Furthermore, I expect Miss Carthright’s excellent idea to be in place in two weeks’ time. You will screen all employees and observe them unannounced. Are we clear?”
“Extremely,” she said in a shallow tone. “Shall I dismiss my son or would you like to?”
“I think I’d like that honor,” Justin replied in a voice that matched his glacial look. “Where might I find him?”
“In the women’s east wing, doing his rounds.”
Justin nodded. “I’ll go now while Miss Carthright has a nice visit with her mother.”
Mrs. Henderson jerked her head in a nod. “I’ll personally see Miss Carthright to her mother.”
“No need,” Justin clipped and held out his hand. “Give me the room keys.”
“But, Your Grace!”
Arabella could do little more than stare in shock. Was Justin telling the truth? Was he really going to purchase this place?
“I’ve neither the time nor the patience to argue, Mrs. Henderson. Hand me the keys now, or I’ll take them from you.”
Arabella gasped at the same time Mrs. Henderson did. A dangerous gleam had come to Justin’s eyes. Mrs. Henderson quickly gave him the keys, which he took in silence. He then proffered his elbow to Arabella.
The moment they were out of Mrs. Henderson’s office and far enough down the hall to speak without danger of being overheard, Arabella stopped and turned to him. “How much of what you said in there is true?”
His eyes sparkled much like a child’s in the midst of a fun game. “A bit. I do know Stanhope. And I fully intend to leave here and go see him. I happen to know he’s in dire financial straits, so I’ll simply persuade him to sell me the place.”
She felt her lips part in shock. “You’d do that for me?”
“I—” He furrowed his brow. “I suppose that—” His words faltered, silence engulfing him, and for a man whose face had shown precious little of what he was thinking, she could clearly see confusion. He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’ll do it for all the women here. I do it because if my mother had to be in a place like this, I would want her to be safe and unafraid, of being abused or otherwise. No woman should have to live in fear of a man.”
Arabella’s heart thumped wildly at his pain-laced words. She reached out and gently cupped his cheek. He flinched but did not move away from her touch. “You sound as if you have personal experience.”
He looked away from her. “I do.”
For a moment, she was certain he would say no more, but finally, he spoke. “My mother feared my father. He abused her emotionally, which I can tell you is just as bad as physical torture.”
She nodded. She believed him, and as his haunted gaze settled on her again, she suspected he’d experienced both. This knowledge that he too was vulnerable, that he too was human, made her trust him and like him all the more.
“One day,” he continued in that same troubled tone, “she fled, and I aided her by not stopping her. I swore to my father I’d find her and bring her back, but I betrayed him.”
The guilt in his voice brought tears to her eyes. He stared not at her but through her.
“Then she betrayed me.” His voice had grown blasé once more, and he focused on Arabella. “I found her and asked her to come back with me. Of course, she said no.”
He offered the last sentence as if stating a simple fact. But it wasn’t simple at all, and she saw clearly now that Justin used indifference to protect himself. Arabella’s stomach clenched. “Did she tell you that?”
“Yes.” He said the word with an utter lack of emotion.
“Your father,” Arabella whispered. “What is he like?”
“He was a cold, hard man, just like me.”
Justin was not cold and hard, yet she saved her breath. He saw himself exactly that way. “You said he was a cold, hard man?”
“Yes. He’s been gone some years now.”
“And your mother? She’s not come back since his death?”
Justin shook his head. “I sent word to her to let her know. She wrote back that she would not be returning because she couldn’t face the memories.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but his omissions were the gateway to a depth of hurt he clearly refused to acknowledge.
“Oh, Justin,” she murmured, her heart squeezing inside her chest. He flinched as if her pity struck him like a physical blow. A mask descended across his face, leaving it void of the little emotion she had seen.
“Come,” he said in an irritatingly neutral tone. “You need to see your mother, and I need to deal with the guard.”
She followed him in silence down the hall. He strode with quick, determined steps, yet she noted his stance was rigid, as if he were struggling to hold something in. As they turned down the corridor that held her mother’s cell, a scream pierced the silence. Arabella’s heart lurched as she gathered her skirts and raced ahead.
“Arabella,” Justin barked and caught her at the elbow.
She tried to jerk free, but his hold was firm. “That’s my mother’s voice,” she hissed.
He let her go at once, and they raced down the corridor, not stopping until they burst into her mother’s room. Ara
bella cried out as her mother cowered in a corner, her eyes wild, her hair a ratted mess, and her arms flung over her head. Red welts covered her skin, and as Arabella turned toward Stewart, who stood across from her mother, she saw the crop in his hand. A guttural scream came from her as she charged toward him.
Justin grabbed her around the waist and jerked her to a stop. “Attend to your mother,” he commanded.
She nodded her head, and Justin released her. As she struggled to stop her mother’s thrashing and cries, Justin spoke in a menacing tone that drew her gaze.
Justin advanced toward Stewart, and in a blur had the man on his knees and the crop he had been holding in front of his neck. Arabella blinked, unsure how Justin had even managed it. He stood behind Stewart who kneeled in front of him. The man clawed at his neck as his face turned an ever increasing and alarming shade of red.
“You like to dominate helpless women, do you?” Justin demanded as he jerked the crop upward. Stewart answered with gagging sounds.
“You’re a degenerate,” Justin said as if he was simply informing Stewart that the weather was warm. “I know the perfect dungeon for you where creatures who were once men dwell and wait for the next victim to be delivered to their lair.”
The guard moaned, and her mother cackled wildly, causing the hair on Arabella’s arms to stand on end.
“Take him there!” her mother crowed. “Beats us all the time, he does. Calls himself King of the Insane! Take him there! Take him there! Let the crows eat his eyes out and feast on his heart.”
“Mama, Mama, shh,” Arabella cooed, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother. Arabella’s throat ached with anger and sorrow. Her mother had truly lost her mind, but that did not mean she deserved this.
Stewart whimpered, and Justin leaned over the man and pressed his mouth close to his ear. “They’ll show you torture methods there that will make you scream until your throat bleeds and fill your sleeping hours with nightmares that make you never want to shut your eyes again. I think I’ll take you there,” Justin said, matter-of-fact.
The Dangerous Duke of Dinnisfree Page 13
