Page 19 of Stolen By the Cruel Duke
“Oh? In what way?”
“The rumors that he is ruthless and dangerous… Yes, I think he has a thirst for vengeance that can drive him to extremes. But I also think that he has suffered greatly at the hands of men who were once more powerful than him and that his anger is justified.”
Violet frowned. “Who is more powerful than a duke?”
For a moment, Iris toyed with the idea of telling Violet about the Duke’s past—his parents’ tragic death when he was fifteen, and how, in his grief, their father had taken advantage of him. But she was afraid of Violet letting something slip to their father, and it wouldn’t be good for him to know that Iris knew the truth. More importantly, she was sure that the Duke would not want her to share his private confession with anyone else.
It had felt intimate when he’d told her what had happened to him. And apart from wanting to guard his secrets, she also felt a strange possessiveness of his confidence. He had shared the truth with her and her alone, and she wanted to keep it like that.
So, instead, she said vaguely, “There are many ways to be powerful.”
Violet looked like she wanted to ask more, but at that moment, a knock sounded at the door and the butler entered. He was holding a silver tray with a letter on it, which he offered to Iris.
Thanking him, Iris took the letter and unfolded it. Her blood went cold when she saw it was from her father.
Iris, I require the return of my middle daughter to our home at once. Her betrothed, Lord Redfield, has requested her presence in order to ascertain her suitability for marriage. He will not sign the contract of betrothal until he sees for himself that she will make an adequate wife.
If this letter comes as a shock to you, then I will point you toward the deviousness of your recent missive. I would also advise you not to try and trick me again with half-researched information clearly fed to you by your husband. I am intimately familiar with William Barstow’s client list, and I can assure you, the Duke of Eavestone is not among them.
If you want your youngest sister to escape your middle sister’s fate, then I would suggest you try harder to uphold your duty to me.
Yours,
C.
Violet felt as if she had been frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. The letter fell from her hands and onto the floor.
“Iris? Are you well?” Violet asked, anxiously grabbing her sister’s hand. “What is it? Who is the letter from?”
“He’s given your hand,” Iris whispered. Her lips felt numb. “He’s promised you to Lord Redfield.”
“What?” Violet’s eyes widened. She snatched the letter from the floor and scanned it furiously. As she did, her mouth fell open. “But… You said that you had a deal with Father—that he wouldn’t marry us off if you married the Duke of Eavestone!”
“We did,” Iris said hollowly.
Of course, she hadn’t told her sisters all the details of the deal, and now guilt flooded her. She had tried to trick her father, and he had seen right through her. Now, he was going to punish Violet for her mistakes.
“He can’t do this,” Iris spat. “And to Lord Redfield! He’s the most vile, loathsome man in the ton. He has no respect for women, no decorum! It would be an insult to marry you off to that man.”
She was almost shouting now, and the music came to a halt as Rosalie stopped playing and turned in their direction.
“What’s happened?” she asked uncertainly.
But Iris didn’t answer. She had leaped to her feet and was calling for the butler. When he came hurrying back into the parlor, she was already donning her gloves and preparing to head out.
“Where is my husband, Malloy?” she demanded. “I need to speak with him at once.”
“Your wife is right,” the solicitor said, giving Phineas a small smile as he looked up from the document in his hand. “There may be grounds to fight this contract.”
Phineas’s heart leaped in his chest, but he kept his expression carefully guarded. He was visiting his new solicitor, Mr. Edwin Hargrove, at his offices in Piccadilly. Mr. Hargrove had been highly recommended to him by several men at his club who thought very lowly of Lord Carfield. Phineas was fairly certain, therefore, that Mr. Hargrove was not in Lord Carfield’s pocket, but after the revelation that Bertram had been double-crossing him, he felt more than a little paranoid.
Which was inconvenient, because that paranoia was also screaming at him that he should distrust his wife. But it was hard to distrust her, or to think any negative thoughts about her, when she had turned out to be so clever and helpful. Even the solicitor looked impressed as he set down the paper.
“She’s smart, your wife,” Mr. Hargrove remarked. “She noticed that this contract was never notarized, yes?”
“Yes,” Phineas replied, feeling like an idiot even as he said it. This was the kind of detail he should have caught himself.
“And then there is the matter of the witness.” Mr. Hargrove tapped the letter thoughtfully. “The Duchess of Eavestone saysthat her mother may be induced to tell the truth about the forgery?”
