The Heart of a Duke(83)

“Soon? How about now? What are you staying for?” Brett looked stunned.

“Julia,” he snapped back. “I will not leave her. Besides, I have to know—”

“Take her with you. Have you not learned enough? What more do you need to know? To see if the next attack succeeds? Your goddamn dukes do what they want with impunity. Killing his twin shouldn’t be a problem for Bedford, not with the resources he commands.” Brett swiped a hand down his face and lowered his voice, his words quieter. “Come home, Daniel. It isn’t safe for you to stay here.”

“I cannot,” his words were curt, but final. He met Brett’s eyes, wishing he could make his friend understand. But there were questions yet to be answered. Abel Shaw’s words about a destiny to be claimed still haunted. And Julia. He doubted she would leave her family and her home. Not even for him. Yet.

Brett read his resolve and sighed. “You are determined to see this through, despite its deadly stakes. I do not like it, hope to change your mind, but it is your decision.”

“At least, he doesn’t have to worry about being gutted by the bird skinner.”

Daniel turned with Brett to stare blankly at Robbie.

“Your cousin, the bird man,” Robbie clarified.

“The ornithologist,” Brett corrected. “He doesn’t skin them, only guts them.” He faced Daniel and his lips twitched. “There is a spot of good news.”

Daniel shook his head. “Good, because the rest of it looks bleak.”

“Well, Defoe did warn that meeting a weasel is a bad omen,” Brett muttered.

“Who?” Robbie said.

“Unlike you, Robbie, Curtis reads. Defoe was a British journalist. He wrote Robinson Crusoe.”

“He said that about weasels? Damned if he was not right. It’s one thing for Bedford to toss your room, but murder of your own brother? As much as I’d like to kill a few of my own, I settle for knocking their heads together. Duke or not, Bedford will hang.”

“No, he will not because we cannot prove anything. It is Weasel’s word against Bedford’s,” Daniel explained. “No one listened to me when he beat me bloody time and again. You think they will listen to a village poacher spouting murder against a peer of the realm?”

Daniel began pacing. “We need to think this through. Whatever Edmund wants, he is willing to kill for it. We suspect it must have been in Shaw’s possession because Edmund visited Shaw’s offices to acquire it immediately following the solicitor’s death. We assume it has to do with my father because of Shaw, and we believe Edmund does not want me to possess whatever it is because he tried to kill me shortly after my father’s death.” He paused. “It must be something incriminating about Edmund or my father.”

“Maybe your father knew of someone else Edmund murdered?” Robbie suggested.

“I wouldn’t put it past the bastard,” Brett agreed.

Daniel shook his head. “Perhaps, but Edmund never gave enough of a damn about anyone to want them dead. The only candidate he held that level of enmity toward was me.”

“I have a plan,” Robbie said, brandishing the Manton revolver. “Shoot the bastard before he shoots you. We can bury his body in one of our back pastures. It’s where Tanners for generations have put all their inferior stock.”

“I like it.” Brett nodded. “If you shoot him in London, we can toss the body in the Thames.”

“I will keep your suggestions in mind,” Daniel said dryly. “Let us first discover what he is after. I would like to determine his motive. Depending on that, I will shoot him.”

“Then you should carry this. You need it more than I.” Robbie handed Daniel the revolver.

“And watch your arse,” Brett added. “Lady Julia might miss it.”

Damn. Julia. He did not mind her assisting him when it was a simple matter of tracking down some solicitor’s papers, but it was a different matter altogether now that he had learned his half-crazed twin was trying to murder him. It was too close to home.

Thank God, she had not married him. The thought congealed his blood. Now that he had saved her from Edmund, he refused to put her in danger again. His gaze shot to Robbie and Brett, and his eyes narrowed.

They were in a heated argument over the best manner in which to dispose of Bedford’s body.

Pair of idiots, but he would trust both with his life. He was beginning to appreciate the binds of both friendship and family. He would need all of them to keep Julia and himself safe.





Chapter Twenty-two





JULIA’S knees went weak and she sank onto the drawing room settee, too stunned to comprehend the full import of Daniel’s words. “Edmund,” she breathed aloud. She curled her arms around her waist, feeling violently ill.