“And how do you propose to do that? Edmund holds the title, and Julia is betrothed to him. That is a legally binding contract. Breaking it would be a serious breach and create a huge scandal. You have been in America too long. You forget, here titles are like the Holy Grail; they come with power and prestige. Bedford may be your brother, but he is a duke. Unless you are wearing a crown, it does not get more powerful than that.”
“Bloody hell, Robbie,” he groused. “Whose side are you on?”
Robbie held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I am on yours, but as you are a bit under the weather, I thought I would clarify some minor details. Point out the obstacles you need to consider, so you don’t trip over them.”
“Since when have you been one for details? You barely remember to store your riding equipment in the stables. Half of it litters your office.”
“Those items need to be fixed, or more orders placed for them,” Robbie protested.
“And jotting it down on a piece of paper will not suffice?”
Robbie narrowed his eyes. “Well, yes, I suppose it would. But when I am busy dodging nine hundred stone of enraged stallion bearing down on me, and I see he needs a new bridle, an inkwell and pen can be hard to find at that moment.”
“I understand your point,” Daniel conceded. Then he grinned. “But your office is still a mess.”
Robbie grunted. “No more so than this room. Look at this place.”
Puzzled, Daniel straightened and peered around. In addition to the disarray of his books and papers, the desk drawers as well as those in his bureau jutted out. His closet door stood ajar, and his valise lay on its side.
He abruptly shot to his feet and snatched his jacket from the bed. Shoving his hand in its pocket, he relaxed when his fingers closed over the letter from his father’s solicitor. He did not know what the devil Edmund was looking for, didn’t give a damn, but his finding the letter would toss a match onto an already smoldering confrontation. “The mess is compliments of Edmund.”
“Why?” Robbie looked baffled.
Daniel shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in his mind? I do not waste time bothering to decipher it.” He moved to his desk, shoved the letter into a book, and slammed it closed. “Probably thought I stole some tenant’s crockery,” he muttered.
“Do you have any idea of how you are going to accomplish these things? Saving the estate and Julia?” Robbie asked.
“As you said, there are obstacles. It has to be done delicately.” He shrugged, grinning at the understatement.
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Please tell me that’s the brandy talking.”
Ignoring him, Daniel leaned back against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “An idea came to me in regard to the fire. Mabry again mentioned problems with poachers, and it struck a chord with me. Do you remember Weasel?”
Weasel’s given name was Nate Corkery. He was a village boy whose nimble fingers and clever guile had earned him his nickname as the prince of poaching. Like the weasel, he trespassed at will and pinched coveted game. At Robbie’s curt nod, Daniel continued. “Mabry mentioned he disappeared immediately after the fire. Said he was spouting crazy talk about it. Any chance you can locate him?”
Robbie frowned. “I can try. But it has been a while. Might be hard.”
“Try. I have a feeling about this.”
“Your sixth sense working up?” Amusement laced Robbie’s words.
“Well, if Weasel did witness anything, it would be in someone’s best interest to brand him mad.”
“True,” Robbie nodded. “So what else is on your agenda that is obstacle free? Rebuilding Lakeview Manor?”
Daniel stilled at Robbie’s words. Rebuilding Lakeview Manor. He abruptly straightened. “That’s brilliant! Just brilliant.”
Robbie looked baffled. “Come again?”
“Let’s get that drink at the pub, for we are celebrating. You have just given me a splendid idea.”
“Fine, but you’re buying.”
Daniel warily eyed Robbie’s considerable size. “I will stick to cider to keep the bill down. And do you have a spare room at your place? This place is contaminated.”
“You can have my old office above the stables. As you know, the gear has been moved into the house.”
At Daniel’s expression, Robbie laughed. “I was jesting.”
“It was a poor one.” Daniel shook his head as he crossed to his closet for a change of clothes. He could not wait to share his plans with Julia . . . Julia. His smile faded and his arms felt heavy, as weighed down as his mood as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged it off.