Page 69 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

The man has no knowledge of the substance itself or how it will be used. Do not seek to engage him in further conversation both for his sake and yours. Most of all, do not dare to fail me. You know what the repercussions would be.

The final straw was another partly written and unsent letter from Elsie, begging for mercy. This time, it appeared to have been intended as a final copy, and a London address was included.

C/O Haworths Estates & Business Affairs Agents.

“Perkins, send a man down to the apothecary and show him this letter. Tell him to lock in his assistant immediately and call in the local constables to deal with the man until I can confront the main criminal in this conspiracy and establish the charges. Tell the constables to look out for our damned runaway maid, too.”

Hugh had continued to read as he gave his orders. Now, he folded up the letter about the apothecary and thrust it towards Perkins while pocketing the others.

“Any money found? Any bottles that might have contained poison?” he asked Mrs. Kaye as the butler bowed and scurried away.

“No, we think she’s taken both with her. The other maids had noticed that Elsie had more money recently, and not around payday. She’d bought herself a new bonnet in the middle of the month, for example.”

Mrs. Kaye gestured to the pile of clothes, and Hugh made a disgusted noise. “Stupid girl! But I must leave her to the local constables. I have to go to London. Elmore!”

One of the footmen who had helped search Elsie’s room stepped forward. “Your Grace?”

“Ready my pistols and tell the grooms to prepare the two fastest horses. You were in the army, weren’t you? You can ride and handle a pistol?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I was, Your Grace. Ten years.”

“Very good. You’re coming with me. Meet me in front of the house when the pistols and horses are ready.”

Hugh’s anger was at such a pitch now that he barely noticed the mute Mrs. Kaye or the other anxious servants peeking out from around doors and corners, fearful of what had happened and what might happen next.

Rushing back down several flights of stairs, he almost collided with a stately figure in grey silk.

“Hugh! Where are you going?” Rebecca asked, catching hold of his arm and almost finding herself swept down the stairs after him. “The messenger came to my house after you left him, and I took my carriage straight away. How is Catherine?”

Hugh steadied his grandmother on her feet and placed her hand back on the banister rather than his arm. “Catherine lives, but I don’t have time to explain everything now, Grandmother. My uncle has poisoned her, or rather blackmailed one of ourmaids into poisoning her. If I can’t find out what was used, the physician cannot treat her. I must go to London immediately.”

“Good God! My own son has done this…” Rebecca gasped in horror. “I knew he had gone astray, but I didn’t want to believe… My own flesh and blood… How could he?”

“It was bad enough that Uncle Edwin tried to kill me, but why go after Catherine? She is innocent. Murdering Catherine will not make him the Duke of Redbridge if that is really what he seeks.”

“Catherine could have only harmed him by marrying you. Her child supplants him as heir to Redbridge and all its wealth. How could I have raised such a monster and not know it?”

“Go up to Catherine,” Hugh told his distraught grandmother. “Mrs. Kaye can tell you the rest. Now, I must leave and find Uncle Edwin. Today, he will either confess, or he will die…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Wary of the risk of laming their horses and delaying their journey, Hugh regularly slowed his mount to allow it to recover from the fast pace he was setting on the road to London in the advancing dusk. Elmore beside him was alert and obedient—clearly once a good soldier.

Hugh took out the letters from his pocket once more and re-read them with slightly cooler eyes in the last rays of the setting sun. Elsie’s pathetic little notes contained no further secrets than they had already yielded. But his eyes lingered now on the other letters and the questions they still raised.

Why, for example, did one letter refer to Edwin—E.V.—in the third person? It reminded him of the parrot squawking repeatedly in William Fitzroy’s voice, “I trusted Edwin Vaughan!”

Hugh thought that Mr. Fitzroy would have instead said, “I trusted you!” if he had confronted his business partner after a betrayal.

But deranged men often talked strangely and acted strangely. Mr. Fitzroy had done away with himself soon after that presumed conversation and was ultimately pronounced by the coroner not to have been in his right mind. Similarly, Hugh could no longer think of Edwin as being entirely sane.

The failure of either man to adhere to complete correctness of speech should therefore not surprise him, and should certainly not rattle his confidence in Edwin’s guilt. There was also the Haworths office address used by Elsie linking his uncle to these letters of bribery and blackmail. Then, there was also that familiar handwriting. So very familiar, and so very associated with Edwin. But still…

As Hugh tucked the letters back into the inner pocket of his jacket and spurred his horse back into a gallop, a strange, new and rather incredible idea began to form in his head.

“Hugh! We weren’t expecting you today. Is something the matter?” Lady Georgina asked as the two dusty, hostile-looking men pushed past her butler and invaded the lamp-lit, elegantly furnished hallway of her Mayfair townhouse. “I must ask you to send your man around to the servants’ entrance. Lord and Lady Crewett may be arriving for dinner at any minute—”

“Where is Uncle Edwin?” Hugh demanded without preamble, declining to get caught up in either questions or domestic concerns. “I must speak to him immediately. Is he here? Or is he out on business?”

---