Page 58 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
The Duke’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to James. His intimidation tactic did not work, because they were of a similar height. James stared back into the Duke’s hazel eyes unflinchingly.
“How do you really know Lady Charlotte?” the Duke demanded.
“I told you, Your Grace, I was introduced by the Earl of Carrington.”
“A brief introduction, as you call it, would not warrant you to rush after a young lady who was distressed. You could have compromised her.”
“And what bothers you more? The fact that Lady Charlotte would have been ruined by me, or that she might have liked it?” James had just drawn a line in the sand. He was not intimidated by Westcliffe.
The only sign of agitation in the Duke was the pulsation of his jaw muscle. “Captain Hughes, I’m normally a pleasant man who tends to avoid conflict. But you have pushed me beyond my limits. One more insufferable comment out of your mouth, and you’ll be naming your seconds.”
“Very well then. I’ll stick to the facts. Does the name Simon Roberts mean anything to you?”
The Duke’s brow furrowed. “No, it does not.”
“How about Martin Nott?”
The Duke’s lips pursed for a moment before returning to his judgmental façade. “Are you trying to insinuate something? I warned you, Captain?—”
“Stop!” Arthur wedged himself between the two men. “I cannot take this any longer.”
“Explain yourself,” the Duke said to Arthur.
Arthur pushed his spectacles farther up his nose and let out a breath. “You both know my sister Charlie, I mean, Lady Charlotte.” He glanced at the fuming men. “And I believe you both care for her.”
The Duke and James glared at each other, then turned their heads back to Arthur, who looked back and forth between the men who stood identically with their legs braced and their hands behind their backs. He cleared his throat. “I believe Captain Hughes is referring to Roberts because of an incident that occurred several weeks ago. He recently became my family’s man of business in Shrewsbury. His predecessor, who had managed our affairs for years, died unexpectedly. Roberts took over all of his accounts.”
The Duke interjected, “How does this involve me?”
Arthur adjusted his glasses once again. “You’ll see, Westcliffe. As I was saying, Charlotte lives at our country seat in Shropshire with our mother, and manages the household ledgers of High Crest Hall. She realized Roberts was skimming money from our family. You may have noticed that my sister is not one to back down. She wrote Roberts a letter under my name, demanding we meet.”
Both men watched him intently. “Roberts denied the request, so she traveled to Shrewsbury incognito as a woman in mourning named Mrs. Gibson. When Roberts learned she was a Tipton, he pulled a gun, threatening to kill her. Charlotte had her pistol with her as a precaution and shot Roberts in self-defense. She fled the scene, and then soon came to London to escapeShropshire and Shrewsbury.” Arthur appeared as if he was about to cast up his accounts.
The Duke’s scowl had fallen, and sincere worry etched his face. “That poor girl.” He shook his head. “Now I understand why she wrote me that she was so eager to marry.”
He turned to face James. “But I know nothing of this Roberts fellow. Whatever possessed you, Captain, to accuse me of being involved with this?”
“You’re somehow connected to him though. Roberts is, or was, the man of business in Shrewsbury for my shipping job. A shipment of flax from Ireland was on a ship that sank, and I had to meet with Roberts to go over the ledgers. When I reached his office, a veiled woman in mourning was waiting to see him before me. I didn’t want to wait, so I went about the rest of my business in Shrewsbury. When I returned, there was a huge commotion because Mrs. Gibson had just shot and killed Roberts.”
This time, James focused on the Duke. “I came to London for the insurance money. The company refused to release it until they possessed the original copies of the ledgers, which were being held by the magistrate until Mrs. Gibson was found. I’ve had the Bow Street Runners working on the case, and they found old documents in Roberts’s office tying him to the Duke of Westcliffe. Perhaps now you can explain the connection, Your Grace.”
“I’m warning you?—”
“Did you know Nott?”
“I did not,” the Duke snapped.
“From what we found, he worked for your father until he left a decade ago and changed his name to Simon Roberts.”
His Grace remained tightlipped, so James continued, “Since his death, someone has attacked Lady Charlotte twice. You claim to know nothing? Who is trying to harm her?” James challenged.
“Fine. I knew Nott years ago. After my father died, he disappeared, and I never heard from him again. I have no idea who is after my future wife,” the Duke responded.
James didn’t believe him.
Arthur stood between them and said reasonably, “We have a sordid mystery to unravel, and my sister is caught in the middle.”
“The Runners I hired found a receipt Roberts had stashed away from 1805 for three paintings by George Heddon, purchased for your father. They think the name is fake and is being used to hide something.”
