One Dance with a Duke (40 page)

“Did she have any further information? Did she see his attackers?”

“Only glimpses, in retreat. Her descriptions of them are vague at best. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in coarse attire. She couldn’t describe them with any helpful detail. What was interesting”—he raised an eyebrow
in a theatrical pause—“was her description of Leo’s companion.”

Silence.

“What?” Bellamy finally managed. “But … but he was alone that night.”

“No, he wasn’t. There was another man with Leo when he was attacked. The harlot remembered his features quite well—hair, height, clothes, looks.” He turned a steely gaze on Bellamy. “From her description, the man looked a great deal like you.”

Julian Bellamy’s face went pale with shock. “He looked like
me
?”

Oh, Spencer was going to enjoy this. Not only was he cleared of all suspicion, but now he could repay Bellamy the favor. “Well, well. This is an interesting development.”

“I was not with Leo that night,” Bellamy said. “I wish to hell I had been, but I wasn’t.”

“Then it’s curious, isn’t it, that Leo was seen with a man who matched your description?”

“I set the trends for fashion. Men
try
to match my description. Every brainless toff in London wants to resemble me.” He gestured toward Jack. “He’s one of them, for the love of God. Why would you take his word, anyway?”

Spencer picked up the token from the table. “Perhaps because the brainless toff was able to locate in a matter of days the person you’ve been seeking for nearly a month? The fact that he found Leo’s token proves he’s not fabricating the tale. And it would certainly explain a great deal, if you were involved. Like why Leo’s body was delivered to
your
house that night. Why your vast investigation has gone nowhere. And why you’ve been so eager to pin the blame on me.”

“I wasn’t with Leo,” Bellamy said edgily. “I have an alibi.”

“Ah, yes.” Spencer narrowed his eyes. “What was her name again? Lady Carnelia? I don’t suppose she’d rush to confirm your story. What makes you think a married noblewoman would invite public scandal just to save your miserable hide?”

Bellamy shot a look at Lily, as though hoping she hadn’t understood Spencer’s remark.

Lily bowed her dark head quickly and pushed back from the table. “Lady Claudia,” she said, extending a hand, “would you kindly show me the way to our chamber? Silly me, I’ve forgotten.”

Reluctance was plain on Claudia’s face, but Lily clutched the girl by the wrist and fairly dragged her from the room. In unison, the men rose from their chairs. Because, naturally, that was the polite thing to do when driving two innocent ladies from the dining room with talk of murder and whores.

Amelia remained seated, looking stunned and pale.

“Well?” Spencer said. He didn’t truly believe the man had killed Leo. He’d witnessed Bellamy’s shock that night, and he could see plainly the toll recent weeks had taken on him. Even Julian Bellamy wasn’t a gifted enough performer to pull off the role of grief-stricken friend so convincingly. Whether Leo had been alone or with a friend, the simplest explanation for his death was still the most likely—he’d been the unlucky victim of random thievery. But let Bellamy know, for a moment, just how it felt to live under unfounded suspicions of murder. Let him watch the woman he cared for scurry from the room.

“We’re going to discuss this alone, Morland,” Bellamy said. “In your library.”

“Ashworth comes, too,” Spencer said. “And we’re going to do more than discuss the matter.” He tossed
the disc of brass in his hand. He hadn’t planned to do this so soon, but this was the perfect opportunity—when emotions and enmity were running high. “We’re going to sit down to cards. It’s time to disband the Stud Club once and for all.”

“Fine by me,” Ashworth said.

Spencer turned to Bellamy and stared him down, filling his gaze with unspoken challenge. This was the moment. Unless the lying bastard balked, victory would be his, tonight.

“All right.” Hatred was keen in Bellamy’s eyes. “Let’s end it. And then you’ll tell me where this bit of skirt’s being put up, and I head back to London in the morning. I need to question this woman as soon as possible.”

“In the library, then.” Spencer moved aside as Ashworth and Bellamy stalked from the room and crossed the narrow corridor to enter the library.

He shot out an arm to prevent Jack from following. “Not you.”

“Come on, Morland,” Jack muttered. “Let me play.”

“Where’s the harlot?”

“The Blue Turtle Inn in Hounslow.”

“The papers?”

“Here.” Jack withdrew them from inside his coat and slung them on the table. He lowered his voice. “Now let me play. I found that token. I found her. You owe me a seat at that table.”

“Absolutely not.” That was all Amelia needed, for Jack to run up a fresh debt of thousands just when he was on the verge of getting clear. “You’ve done what you came to do. You’ll leave tonight.”

“Tonight?” Amelia finally jolted from her reverie. “He’s just arrived. And this is our family’s house. You can’t boot him out.”

“Our
family’s house?” Jack turned an accusatory gaze on Spencer. “You didn’t even tell her, did you?”

“Tell me what?” Amelia asked, rising from her chair.

Spencer sighed. He hoped she’d take this well, in the spirit it was intended. “I’d planned to tell you tonight. I’m buying the cottage.”

“Buying the cottage?” She looked to the rafters.
“This
cottage? Briarbank?”

“Yes, to all three.”

“You can’t possibly buy this cottage. It’s entailed.”

“No, it’s not. The land surrounding the castle, yes. But not this property.”

“So those papers …” Her eyes fell to the table.

“Will make the house mine.”
Damn it
. “Ours.”

“But …” She blinked furiously. “But this house has belonged to the d’Orsay family for centuries.”

Bollocks. She was not taking it well. Not well at all.

“You really should have told her,” Jack said.

“Get out,” Spencer snapped. He needed to discuss this with Amelia in private.

“No, don’t.” Amelia grabbed her brother’s arm. “Stay. Don’t you let him chase you from this house.”

“Damn, but the two of you are exhausting in your demands,” Jack said. “I’ll just go to bed. If I’m allowed.”

After his brother-in-law left the room, Spencer placed his hands on Amelia’s shoulders. In a belated attempt at tenderness, he stroked his thumb back and forth along her collarbone. “Amelia, I’ve made inquiries in recent weeks. Your brother owes a vast sum of money. Thousands. To a man far less forgiving than I.” He didn’t give the man’s name; she wouldn’t recognize it anyhow. But Jack’s creditor was the proprietor of several of London’s most infamous gaming halls, and he was a man known for his ruthlessness. It wasn’t a business a man rose to the top of without excelling at ruthlessness.

The tears began to spill from her eyes. “He looks so terrible, so haunted.”

“I don’t doubt it. He’s probably living in streets and taverns, unable to go to his own home for fear of endangering his safety. If he doesn’t make good on the debts soon …” He let the fear in her eyes complete the sentence for him. “I can’t countenance simply giving him the funds, but I will purchase this house. For you.”

“Why on earth would I want it for myself?”

A small spark of hope warmed him inside, to know that she’d so completely forgotten the terms of their original agreement. “I intended to buy it in case you were unhappy living with me. After a child is born.” He reached to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Of course, now I’m hoping it can be a summer retreat for us both.”

“Spencer, this place is a piece of d’Orsay history. Our house in Town is long gone, and you’ve seen the ruins of Beauvale Castle. This cottage is all we have left. Our family pride is the very mortar holding these stones together. I can’t believe you would so callously strip it from us.”

“Callously? Perhaps this place belongs to Beauvale in name, but you are the one who cares for it so deeply. And what of
our
family? Why can’t we begin a new chapter of this house’s history, together?”

“What sort of chapter begins with tossing my brother to the wolves?”

By the devil, he was tired of hearing about her brother. When he managed to speak, his voice vibrated with anger. “How long are you going to keep defending him? You heard Jack. He’s on the verge of clearing his debt, once this transaction is completed. And all he wants is to get right back at the gaming table and drown himself again. He’s on course to meet with true disaster, and he has no compunction about dragging you along with him. If he stays in this house, he will work on you, make you all manner of promises … and then just devastate
you all the more when you wake up one morning to find he’s made off with your pearls.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Her hand went to her throat as she shrugged away. “And if you truly thought I’d be so happy for you to purchase Briarbank, why didn’t you tell me? Instead you’ve gone behind my back, manipulating everyone to your own purpose. Even the first week of our marriage … you held my brother’s debt over my head, just to get me to the card table and get your hands on my—”

With a gasp, she pulled up short. She gestured toward the library and lowered her voice to an accusatory whisper. “That’s the entire reason for this house party, isn’t it? That little card game you’re about to play. You’ve arranged this whole holiday just to win those tokens and that dratted horse.”

He shrugged, unable to refute it.

Closing in on him, she jabbed a finger in his chest. “And you would lecture me on misplaced priorities. You led me to believe we were welcoming these people as friends and guests. I thought you wanted to be open and honest with them, gain their trust and cooperation. But no. Forget sincerity, we’re back to gamesmanship. All I ask is for you to give Jack a chance. Talk with him, help him see his errors, let him learn from your example. But you won’t hear of it—and no surprise, given the manner in which you treat your own kin. You never did speak with Claudia today, did you?”

“No.” He heaved a guilty sigh. No, he hadn’t. He could have offered some excuse, but it would have been a lie.

“I didn’t think so. My brother may have his problems, but you’re delusional if you present yourself as an exemplar of behavior. You’re so closed off and insular, it’s a wonder you can see beyond your own nose. The wealthy, intelligent duke who welcomes all manner of
insidious gossip rather than admit to feeling uneasy in crowds? Who’d stand accused of murder rather than fall under suspicion of possessing a heart?”

He blinked, wounded. How could she say that? Perhaps he
was
reserved with everyone else, but he was different with her. She’d pulled him out of that insular, smug, goddamned lonely existence and made him yearn to be a part of this—this family, this home. Why couldn’t she see that he wanted it not just for her, but for them?

“Amelia …” As he began, his voice broke. He cleared his throat and started again, clearly and calmly. It shouldn’t be so hard to say this. “You are everything to me. The world is welcome to know it.”

“How would they? Because you’ve carried me out of a few ballrooms and tend to throw punches when I’m around? You’re wrenching this house away from my family. Uprooting it from centuries of d’Orsay history.” A sob caught in her throat. “Meanwhile you’ve been
using
me and my love for this place, just to gain custody of a horse. And now you’d cast my brother out, again.”

He caught her by the shoulders. “Damn it, you are the one who is letting Jack come between us. You’re so invested in this selfless martyr role. Somewhere inside you is that sixteen-year-old girl who believed she deserved her own happiness. The woman who has captivated me from the first time I held her and found I couldn’t let go. I’ve done my best to be understanding, but—”

“Your
best?
Oh, Spencer. I know you too well to believe that. If you would accuse me of denying myself, then please queue up for your share of the blame. I’ve never known a man so remarkable, so complex and caring … and so determined to hide it from the world. If I were ever so lucky as to glimpse your true, shining best, I’d probably expire where I stood from the brilliance.”

If she’d intended those words as a compliment, they damn well didn’t feel like one. They felt like brilliant shards of glass.

He sighed. “Say what you will, Amelia, you can’t deny that I’m making an effort. And I’m tired of coming in second to Jack for my pains. At least I’m trying to secure your happiness.”

“My happiness? How can I possibly be happy, when I know my brother is living on the London streets, brushing sleeves with danger every moment of the day?”

“I don’t know, but you’ll have to learn. Because Jack isn’t going to change.” He tipped her chin and lowered his voice. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to decide where your loyalties are. With him, or with me?”

She stared at him as though he were some sort of monster. Damn it, he wasn’t a monster. He was human. He wanted to know his wife loved
him
above any other man. Wouldn’t any husband want the same?