The Rakehell Regency(319)

"Damn it, Thomas, that's enough!" Jonathan roared. "You presume too much. I only have to account to myself for the state of my heart. As for Ferncliffe, just because we dislike the man does not make him a murderer, or a criminal. We have no proof."



Thomas stood up and stormed out. "I'll get proof. He cannot harm Pamela physically, not with her aunt and half of London keeping an eye on them. But he can lure her into compromising herself so that you'll lose your chance. I shall not allow that to happen. She deserves better than to be lied to and moved about like a pawn on a chessboard."



"I never-"



Thomas gazed at his friend coolly. "Did you not?" he demanded with an infuriating quirk of one fine dark brow. "All the time you spent with her, loving her as you did? Trying to improve her, educate her? You manipulated her, lied to her too. In some senses you're no better than Ferncliffe."



Jonathan balled up his fists, and had to struggle for several moments not to smash the smug look from his friend's face. Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets and paced up and down in front of the Duke's desk, seething. "You go too far, sir. I love her heart and soul. Long for her with every part of me. I would never-"



"Hah!" Thomas exclaimed in triumph. "I knew it! So bloody well go after her, man."



Jonathan slumped into a wing-backed chair, emotionally spent. "It's too late. I can't. After the way I behaved last night, the things I said to her, I'm sure she never wants to see me again as long as she lives."



"I'm equally certain that can't be true," Thomas said mildly. "She's hurt and embarrassed, confused that you always withdraw from her the moment you start getting close. But she loves you, I'm sure of it."



"Then why did she go off with Ferncliffe?"



"Because she needed transport, he happened to be going to London, and she has no idea she that she is being manipulated constantly by a man who isn't what he appears to be at all."



Jonathan stood up at that reminder of how Ferncliffe conducted all of his affairs.



The Duke's hopes rose, only to be dashed down in an instant by his friend's next words.



"Thomas, I've always loved you as a brother too. But please, for both of our sakes, never speak to me of my foolishness regarding Miss Ashton again."



He stormed out of the room before Thomas could utter another word. His emerald eyes following him, pained beyond measure.



But Thomas was not the Duke of Ellesmere for nothing. He was a man used to getting his way if a principle were at stake. In this case it was the future happiness of one of his dearest friends, and an innocent girl even more unsuspecting than his own dear wife had been. He just had to help, even if Jonathan never forgave him from trying to interfere. The question was, what could he do?



Thomas consulted with Charlotte and the Stones a short time later.



"Well, if that's what Jonathan has decided, that they're not to be married even though he loves her, there's little we can do, dearest," his wife said soothingly.



"I think the important thing is that we try to at least remain friends with Pamela. Jonathan is even now getting Sarah ready to leave for Brimley, and has tried to resign his parish. I have of course refused to allow him to do so until an appropriate replacement can be found. As you know, I can drag that out indefinitely.



"In the meantime, I propose we go up to London. We will all act as if nothing odd has happened, and keep an eye on Pamela. We shall protect her from herself and that aunt of hers. And above all, protect her from Ferncliffe. Even if she and Jonathan can never be together, she doesn't deserve to be treated like a prize heifer at the County Fair," Thomas said with a grimace of disgust.



Charlotte concurred. "I couldn't agree more. I shudder to think what might have happened if you hadn't taken me in hand and protected me. Pamela has taken up where I left off socially. She is spoilt, and unsuspecting of the dangers of people who smile and smile, but act like villains behind the scenes."



Clifford protested, "But we don't have any proof-"



"I smell a rat," Thomas said with a grimace. "Something is afoot. I can't be sure what. All I know is that the last we had heard, one of the Davenports was heir to the earldom, not that odious viper. And now none of them can be found. The three brothers have vanished from the face of the earth.



"Everything that happened two years ago was a bad bloody business, and we've never been able to uncover all the culprits yet. I propose we do so now. We're still looking for your mysterious friend Jason. The trail hasn't gone cold yet. I'll find him, never fear. One way or the other, I'll find him, and get the answers we seek." The Duke toyed with a dangerous looking letter opener on his desk for a brief moment.