“What are you doing here?” he asked, dropping his hand to his desk.
Derek raised a brow and a half smile. “After the cryptic nature of your note? Kate practically shoved me out the door.”
The rest nodded, save for Colin, who grinned raffishly. “I was just getting in myself, so I thought, why not?” Then he sobered and tilted his head a touch. “Did you really think we would wait until morning when you said it was urgent?”
He swallowed a surprising amount of emotion. “You didn’t have to come.”
Nathan snorted and entered the study, taking a seat. “Of course, we did. You would do the same for us.”
It was true, he would. But he would never expect his friends to. Not for him.
But for Annalise…
He gestured to them to sit, and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much to say. So much to do. So much…
“Duncan.”
He looked up at Geoffrey, who nodded in encouragement. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”
He released a slow breath, and told them of the goings on of the day. He left out the note from the Gent, feeling it was irrelevant to the matter at hand, but he shared with them the history between Annie and Albert Thorpe. As he had expected, his friends were nearly as livid as he had been. Some asked questions, but for the most part they sat brewing in fury.
“I wish the man had killed him,” Geoff said in a voice Duncan had never heard from his calm and most gentlemanlike friend. “That would have solved all the problems.”
The others nodded, though each seemed surprised the words had come from Geoff.
“I’ve thought about it over and over again,” Duncan told them, “and killing him, though desirable, would not have been wise. We don’t know anything about Thorpe or what his connections are. His mysterious death might have caused more problems for Annalise, not to mention the man who stopped him.”
“True, I suppose,” Nathan grumbled, leaning back in his chair. “So our first act should be to find out everything we can about Thorpe.”
Derek leaned forward, rubbing his hands together slowly. “Do we know where he is from?”
Duncan shook his head. “Annalise didn’t know. Her brother kept most things regarding the men he brought in silent. But we could start with connections in Yorkshire.”
Derek nodded, his jaw firm. “I can take care of that.”
“And I will see what is known of him in London,” Colin volunteered with a hand raise. “I’ve lived here fourteen, nearly fifteen years, and my connections here are better than most people can boast.”
Geoff gave him a look. “Do we want to know what they are?”
Colin offered a cheeky grin. “Probably not, you might become scandalized and never recover.”
Duncan smiled and shook his head.
“What about the man in the alley?” Nathan asked, looking at Duncan. “Do we know anything about him?”
Fleetingly, Duncan considered telling him what he knew, but something held him back. He had never mentioned the notes regarding Marianne before, and how could he reveal what he knew about a man he didn’t know very much about? This man was useful to him, how would he feel about a betrayal of this kind?
“He didn’t give Annalise any information,” he said carefully, “only that she could trust him.”
“Well, thank God for that,” Nathan replied, sitting back and rubbing his eyes. “All right, what can I do? I have very few connections in London, but I would be happy to put forth money or my name if it helps.”
“And I,” Geoff agreed.
Duncan chewed his lip for a moment. “I would not put it past Thorpe to hold a very strong vendetta against Annalise for this. He may try to discredit her, if not harm her again.”
Geoff shook his head. “If he cannot have her, no one can.”
Duncan laughed without humor. “Something like that, yes.”
“Well, what can we do?”
“Proof,” Colin said, growing somber. “We need proof that she is who we claim she is.”
“I was afraid of that,” Duncan murmured, putting his head into his hands on the desk before him.
Derek folded his arms and leaned back against the wall behind him. “Remind me what Tibby claimed about her.”
“She is a niece of her late husband from his previous marriage,” Duncan recited, his words muffled by his hands.
“Ah ha,” Colin said with a nod and a straight face. “Now I remember. And which husband?”
Duncan dropped his hands and glared at Colin. “Rupert. The late Lord Moulton.”
“Moulton…” Nathan mused thoughtfully. “And the current Lord Moulton is…?”
“A cousin, I think.” Duncan frowned as he thought about it. Rupert had been dead for ten years, and had been quite reclusive, so there was no way to tell for certain. “I believe the family was from Kent. Tibby says they have all sorts of strange relations.”
Nathan nodded. “That sounds correct, if my memory serves. I’ll look into it. Perhaps the current lord might help us out.”
Duncan waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. If we can find any sort of relation with mystery, we can claim her. If the family was as reclusive as Rupert, no one will know.”
“But what do we do about Thorpe?” Geoff asked looking around.
Duncan glowered and wished he were not so much a gentleman. “We watch. And we wait. He does not breathe without us knowing,”
“One thing must be stated, I think,” Derek said slowly, looking thoughtful.
Whether out of respect or habit, all of them looked at the young marquess instantly.
His green eyes flashed. “Annalise does not go anywhere alone. Ever.”
Duncan swallowed and nodded. He had vowed that silently himself hours ago, but had doubts that he was being too protective. It was comforting to hear someone else say it. And it kept his secret for a while longer.
He was not ready to let them know.
Then again, as he looked around at them all, perhaps they already knew.
They didn’t leave until the sun had risen, as they had discussed how they would go about their respective tasks, how they could assist each other, how much they should tell their wives, and ultimately, how they could help Annalise. Each man had taken responsibility for some part, and they would report back as soon as they had information that could help the group.
Duncan could not have expressed to his friends what their immediate action and attention had meant to him. He literally couldn’t find the words to do so, and it wasn’t in his nature to speak of such things.
Colin was the last to leave, hanging back and letting the others have their say and farewells. He waited until the door had closed behind Geoff completely before turning to Duncan with a rare look of serious appraisal.
“What?” Duncan asked after the moment had become too uncomfortable.
“Some three years ago,” he said in a low voice, his eyes flicking to the closed door, “I began receiving letters from a source regarding my brother. Initially, they were not signed. They arrived without warning or cause, and did so irregularly at best.”
Duncan fought the urge to stiffen as he heard the all-too-familiar tale. How was it possible that their siblings, however inextricably tied to each other in rumor, also had the same informant?
Colin continued to watch him carefully. “I didn’t investigate at first. I was content to know what was being said about my brother, and if the context was of legitimate concern. And although I never knew the reasoning behind these letters, they were always respectful and considerate. Then I became curious, and, by my nature, I don’t let anything go easily.”
That, at least, was true. Duncan was not a curious individual and was content to let things progress on their own. But Colin, for all his lightness, had a will and drive that could not have been broken by any earthly means. When he wanted something, he made it his.
“The informant caught on to my own investigation,”
he continued, one side of his mouth quirking in a hint of a smile. “He had been impressed by my efforts and my own collection of informants, but he encouraged me… insisted, really… that I desist investigating him. Something about safety and security of others being at risk. All I would have would be a manner to reach him and his code name. I believe you are also acquainted with this man.”
Colin smirked as he held out a sliver of paper with two words written on it. The Gent.
Duncan nodded, knowing his expression showed his shock.
Colin turned and burned the slip of paper on a nearby candle. “It seems, then, that I may be able to offer a bit of additional help in our investigation.”
“So it appears,” Duncan said, attempting the same calm tone, but having to cough in his surprise.
His friend winked at him. “Trust me, Duncan. Our friend is already on it. If I know him, and I feel I do by now, he doesn’t let things go either.” Colin clapped him on the back and showed himself out, leaving Duncan to stare after him in stunned bewilderment.
All this time the Gent had been communicating with Colin as well? What investment did he have in their siblings? In their lives?
What madness brought him across Annalise’s path just in time?
He sank back into his chair, rubbing his face. There was too much to do, too much to consider. His mind didn’t have the capacity to fully comprehend all of this.
“What was Colin doing here?”
The soft, sweet voice broke into the murkiness of his thoughts and he looked up to see Annalise in the doorway. Apparently, Colin was incapable of shutting doors. Not that Duncan minded, for Annalise was a vision this morning.
Her hair was loosely braided, long strands hanging free, and she was still in her night gown, her wrap cinched tightly around her tiny waist. She had dark circles under her eyes, which meant her rest had been fitful at best. But he would have guessed that without seeing her, for it was too early for waking, even for her.
He smiled and rose from his chair, coming around the desk. “Colin is helping me with something.”
Annalise might have been quiet and shy, but she was no fool. She gave him a look. “About me?” she asked, though he could see there was no question.
He would not lie to her.
“Yes,” he replied, taking her hand in his and looking at the bruises on her wrist.
Her eyes remained on him. “Were all of your friends here?”
He nodded, tracing the discolorations with a finger.
“Duncan, I don’t want anyone to go to any trouble for me.”
He raised his eyes to hers and hoped she could see the intensity that burned within him. “I understand that,” he explained softly, holding her gaze steady. “But what you have to understand, Annalise, is that there are people who care about you and we are not going to let this stand. We will go to great lengths for you, regardless of whether you want it or not.”
“But…”
“I didn’t ask them to come in the middle of the night,” he gently overrode, increasing his hold on her just slightly. “I had asked for them to come to me today so we might discuss what we could do to help you, what needed to be done to protect you. Do you know what happened?”
She shook her head slowly, swallowing.
He smiled. “They came immediately, the moment they received my note.”
Her lips parted in shock.
He gave her a slow nod. “They are my friends, Annalise. My best friends. But they did not come for me. Do you really think they would let this go? That they would let you be treated this way and not act?”
She shook her head quickly, a few tears trickling down her cheeks. “I don’t deserve it.”
He touched a finger to her lips, his eyes warning her. “That’s enough,” he murmured.
She nodded, closing her eyes for a long moment. When her eyes opened once more, he smiled and cupped her cheek.
“I’ve told them they can share with their wives what they see fit. I hope that is all right with you.”
“Of course,” she said, a faint smile. “I think they would receive mortal injuries if they didn’t.”
He chuckled and stroked her bruised cheek. It looked so much worse today, yet she barely winced. “I don’t want you to worry anymore, Annalise,” he told her. “We will handle this. I will handle this.”
“I know,” she whispered, gently gripping his wrist. “I trust you.”
Duncan felt as though his heart had burst inside his chest and everything had now caught fire. He gently brought her to him, put his arms around her, and pressed his lips to her forehead, his mouth dancing across her hairline. “Thank you,” he breathed against her skin.
She wrapped her arms about his waist and leaned into him, releasing a small sigh.
How long they stood there as such, he didn’t know, nor did he care.
He had never been more content.
Only when she stirred did he release her. She appeared flustered, though no blush appeared on her cheeks. He smiled at her shyness.
“Aren’t you tired?” he asked softly.
She nodded, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Go back to bed, Annalise,” he murmured, his eyes warm. “No more worries.”
She returned his smile, and nodded jerkily as she turned from his study, glancing back at him as she did so.
When she had gone, he released a heavy breath and returned to his desk. There was much to do, and not much time to do it in.
It was not long after that a soft knock came at his open door. The surprises of the morning were not over, for there stood Tibby, in nightgown and wrap, her hair plaited carefully, eyes bright.
“Tibby?” There was no hiding his surprise, and he waved her in.
She did not smile, but came in and shut the door behind her. “Duncan, I need to speak to you.”
He set down his pen and sat back. “Go ahead.”
She nodded, but did not speak for a long moment. Then she released a quick breath and met his eyes. “Duncan, I think you have feelings for Annalise.”
He prided himself on not reacting. He knew his aunt well, she had known for some time there was something there. For whatever reason, she had chosen to keep that to herself. Until now. “Do I?” he asked simply.
“I have been up half of the night thinking about Annalise, about what happened, about you… I suspected some attachment, but I know you have feelings for her. And I think you know it as well.”
He looked at her steadily for a moment. “I think you are right, Tibby,” he replied, keeping his voice low.
She raised a brow. “Am I?”
“Yes,” he answered with a nod. “But you are mistaken as well. I don’t just have feelings for Annalise.” He broke off for a soft laugh. “That would put a paltry name to it.”
“Tell me,” she pleaded, sitting in the chair next to him.
He released a sigh and looked up at the ceiling, as if it could help him describe it. “She is the sun,” he finally said. “She is the first fresh air in spring. She makes the morning begin anew and tosses the stars into the sky at night with her bare hands. Nothing beautiful was ever created without her in mind.”
“Duncan?” Her voice was tinged with wonder and emotion.
He looked at his beloved aunt and smiled. “I love her, Tibby.”
For the first time he could recall, he saw her eyes glimmer with tears. She smiled again and pressed a kiss to his hand. She did not speak, but she rose and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her, winking at him as she did.
He could not help but smile. As bad as things were at the moment, as complicated as they would undoubtedly get, in this moment, he could not help but to smile.
He was a man in love.
And that was something to smile about indeed.
Scant days later, he was far from smiling once more.
“So I really think it would be in our best interest to keep an eye on Thorpe,�
�� Derek said as he gripped the back of his neck. “He is dangerous and, while I don’t know his connections in London, I do not doubt they are less than savory, regardless of their standing.”
Duncan nodded slowly, not saying a word. So far the reports from his friends were not good. The information obtained from Derek’s connections painted Thorpe as a hard, cruel man with moderate fortune, means, and a dark history that he shuddered to remember. There was no way Annalise could be with him, willingly or otherwise. She would never last. Thorpe’s associations were mostly mercenary, hardly reputable, and it seemed he enjoyed being the most powerful man in any given society.
Which did not explain why he was in London, as he was a bottom dweller there.
Why on earth would Annalise’s brother condone such a marriage? The only connection between the two men that Derek had been able to dig up had been the purchase of a horse from Frank Ramsey. That hardly seemed the sort of relationship that would lead to auctioning off his sister. But Duncan had given up trying to understand either of these men. If one could dare call them such.
They had not been successful with Lord Moulton or finding a familial connection to tie Annalise to. The family had enough trouble with their legitimate offspring, they could not afford to adopt anyone else, no matter how influential their friends were. And no other sentient relatives could be found. The rest had fled to the continent.
Duncan rubbed at his eyes and sighed heavily. They were running out of options.
“His London connections are much worse,” Colin spoke up with what sounded like a wince in his voice.
“How much worse can it get?” Duncan asked, shifting to dig the heels of his hands into his eyes. Sleep had not been his ally since the attack. He was surprised to still be sitting upright.
Colin sighed and avoided Duncan’s eyes. “My sources tell me that Thorpe is a notorious and ruthless gambler, and ruthless when he does so. There are rumors of his being a cheat, but no one has been able to prove it. He has allies throughout the city, in all areas both high and low. And the low can get very low. The high… well, they’re not the sort of persons we would deem worthy of their station. There have been ties to financial ruin, moral ruin, even death. His depravity knows no end.” Colin shook his head and rubbed at his own eyes. “I would not be surprised if he shared with the world what he knows about Annalise and her true background, to shame her out of Society and then to claim her for his own.”
The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4) Page 23
