Page 70 of The Virgin Duchess

Some semblance of consciousness returned to the man, and he shook his head, seeming to clear his thoughts. With a groan he attempted to push away from Frederick, and when the Duke released his grip, he fell against the wall.

“A Baron, ye say? Is there a reward for finding him?”

Of course. The man is interested in money.

Glaring, Frederick clenched his jaw before giving up his resistance. It was too important to find Halfacre. If he needed to pay for the information, so be it.

“I may be able to come up with one should your information be valuable and true. What can you tell me?”

It was still difficult for the man to look Frederick in the eyes, and the Duke was growing more and more impatient by the moment.

“I’ve heard of him. He’s been spoken of a great deal in whisper.” Coughing terribly, the man nearly retched and then righted himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Most of the time, rumors are about anyone and everyone. None so much focused on a single person, aye?”

“Sure, yes. That is a fair assumption.” Frederick sighed. “Please, I do not see what this has to do with the Baron.”

“That’s just it!” The drunk beggar wagged a finger at him. “There is so much talk of Halfacre. And down here in the slums, we don’t forget who’s been the talk of the town. Information is a commodity, see? And we’ll take any chance we can to make a little coin.”

The man rubbed his fingers together, and Frederick groaned. He wasn’t going to get anything without putting forth at least a bit for this poor fellow. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few shillings, depositing them into the man’s palm.

“There. Now speak. I have little time to waste.”

Frederick waited while the man looked over his collection of coins. It was several long moments before he glanced up at Frederick with a crooked, grimy smirk.

“Haven’t seen him around. Sorry.”

Quicker than expected, the man dashed away through a slim passage in the alley that Frederick hadn’t noticed. He’d been fleeced of some coin, but it wasn’t much. Letting out a heavy sigh, Frederick reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a headache forming behind his eyes.

“Such a shame.” Frederick perked up before freezing in place. “You must hate having to go through all that and still have nothing to go on. Pity.”

Just as Frederick was going to turn around, a shadow fell over him, and he was only just able to see the vague shape of a cane coming down toward his head before it made contact, pain blooming through his skull.

Frederick wobbled on his feet, trying desperately to maintain consciousness. Still, it had been a deft strike, and Frederick stumbled down to his knees before fully toppling to the ground, everything around him going dark.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Launching herself from the carriage, Charlotte tore up the steps to the estate and flung the door wide as she burst inside. The servants near the door jumped slightly as she crashed in, and several called out after her as she flew up the stairs toward Frederick’s bedroom.

There was no time for formalities or customary measures. This was too crucial. Charlotte had learned the truth of the situation with Margaret, and she would not allow her husband to remain ignorant or use what he believed to drive a wedge between them.

Frederick…ugh, he must be…pushing me away? Ugh! I shall pull the truth from him by the teeth if I must.

The house was so quiet around her as Charlotte flew up the stairs, and when she got to Frederick’s room to knock on the door, it was open. Her husband was not inside, but Diedre and she was pulling the linens from his bed with a basket set up nearby.

“Diedre, where is the Duke? I need to speak to him at once.”

“Your Grace,” she ducked her head, “I have not seen him in some time. I believe he has gone out for the day.”

Charlotte thought back to the entrance in front of the house where the carriages were usually parked. One had been missing from the lineup, and her stomach dropped.

“Did he say where he was going?”

“I did not hear his plans, Your Grace. I’m sorry.” Diedre was perceptive enough to see the concern furrowing Charlotte’s brow, and she set aside the sheets to be washed and approached her. “What is the matter, mistress?”

“I…I have important news to discuss with the Duke. I had hoped to find him here, and now that he is gone, I fear what he might be doing. We…we had a disagreement this morning.”

Sympathy radiated from Diedre, and she took Charlotte’s hands in a comforting gesture.

“I am sure he will return. You needn’t worry over him. Would you like me to fetch you a cup of tea, Your Grace?”

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