The Heart of a Duke(92)

He caught her hand. “Where did Emily go? I think I will heal quicker with her by my side.”

His words eradicated any lingering worry over his health; the handsome rake would be fine. It was her sister she needed to worry about. She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I will see that she returns,” she whispered, but her father heard her.

“And you, Julia. How long have you known about this? And when were you planning to tell me? Were you to marry the man one day and bury him the next?”

At her gasp, her father closed his eyes and pressed a hand against his temple. “My apologies. That was uncalled for.”

Only Brett appeared unperturbed. He waved his good arm dismissively. “Do not worry yourself. I have been saying the same thing. Tell him to go home every day. But you go on, your lordship, just keep talking. Scare some sense into him. He will not listen to me, but I am finding you need a fancy toff’s title to get things done around here. Good thing Daniel looks like Bedford and can borrow his.” Brett’s eyes were heavy-lidded, and a loopy smile split his face.

Julia blanched, her gaze shooting to Daniel, who groaned and swiped his hands down his face.

“Please tell me that is the laudanum talking,” her father warned.

This was why she hadn’t confided in her father or gone to the authorities. Their story was based on trust and instinct. She trusted Daniel, and instinct had her distrusting Edmund.

“Perhaps we should talk in your office,” Daniel hastily intervened. “He should get some sleep.”

“Brilliant idea, s’tired.” Brett murmured. “Have Emily come read me to sleep. She looks like an angel.” He closed his eyes and his breathing leveled, but the smile remained.

Daniel could not get her father out of the room fast enough, obviously fearing what else Brett would ask of Emily. “Sir?”

“Fine. I could use a drink. It’s the only way for this story to go down.”



TWO HOURS AND half a bottle of good brandy later, Taunton’s anger had been drowned out enough for him to hear the conviction in their words.

He slumped behind his desk and sighed, looking aged. “Christ. My Meg was right about you two as boys, but I was right about Edmund the man. She thought Julia would be a good influence over him, peel away his haughty veneer and find the man beneath the duke. My Meg said she had to do the same with me.” His words were soft, and his smile wistful. “I trusted her opinion more than my own, but I guess none of us can be right all the time or we’d be intolerable bores.” He lifted his drink and took another sip as if to ease the sting of his sainted wife being mistaken.

“My apologies, sir. I would have told you when I asked for Julia’s hand, but I was not certain then. Given your reaction to the news, you can understand my reservations. There is no evidence to bring to the authorities. We reported the attack at the docks, but that can be dismissed as a robbery gone awry, particularly in that area.”

Taunton nodded. “Yes, I understand.” He leaned forward. “We cannot bring charges against a duke of the realm lightly. What you have is a leaking boat. Too many holes and your story sinks. We need to stopper up the holes.”

Daniel swallowed at Taunton’s use of the word we, stunned at how deeply the man’s trust touched him. Next to Robbie, Brett, and now Julia, there were few people in his life who had trusted him on his word alone. There were benefits to being a member of a family, particularly the Chandler family, and each day he was learning to not only appreciate them, but to lean on them.

Julia circled her father’s desk and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Pray tell, for what? Not killing him or turning you over my knee as I should have?”

“For believing us.”

Daniel quickly dropped his gaze to his drink. He had never been an us before either. He hoped this meant that Julia would finally agree to marry him.

“It’s the damnedest thing, but I do.” Taunton sighed. “So let us get to the bottom of this. Stopper up the holes. What would he be willing to kill for?”

Julia frowned. “We have been going on the assumption that your father left you something in his will that Edmund wants. But Shaw’s son spoke of his father worrying over a betrayal. What if it isn’t something your father left you, but something he did. A betrayal he committed.”

“It makes sense,” Daniel agreed. “My father could have had Shaw draw up documents in an attempt to right the wrong done. Doctor Reilly might have learned of the betrayal through being present at my father’s conversations with Shaw or through my father’s sickbed rambles. But when my father died, Edmund likely refused to honor whatever wishes my father had put forward. Instead, he bought Shaw and Doctor Reilly’s silence and they bled him dry, thus Edmund’s debts and the bleeding of his own estates.