Page 76 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

“Catherine did not go with them today,” Everton revealed. “Delia was running a fever so she stayed home.” He unfolded the page and read it aloud. “I have your wife and sister. A ransom demand will follow.” The duke looked up, anger sparking in his eyes. “Have you made any enemies, Linfield?”

“None that I know of,” he said truthfully.

“I know who is responsible.”

All eyes turned to Hudson, Laurel’s twin.

“Julius Farmon has taken her. Them.” He pushed a hand through his dark hair. “I worried when Laurel told me where the orphanage was located. It’s in the neighborhood where we grew up.”

“Who is this Farmon?” demanded Anthony. “Why in God’s name would he kidnap them?”

“Farmon owns several saloons and brothels. That’s where he made his money. In the past few years, he’s begun buying up chunks of land and buildings, including Mr. Cole’s chandlery, where Laurel worked.” Hudson’s hands balled into fists. “He told her she could keep her day job only if she took on one at night. As his mistress.”

Anthony felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.

“You know Laurel,” Hudson continued. “She gave him a tongue lashing—and worse. Boxed his ears and kneed him in the balls. Farmon was out for blood after that. He tripled our rent since he owned the tenement where we lived. Threatened to bring me up on charges and have me transported to Australia. We fled to a boardinghouse miles away but lived in constant fear.”

Hudson looked to Everton. “That’s when she was desperate enough to come to you. If you hadn’t taken us in, I don’t know what would have happened. Farmon’s network of thugs runs deep. I don’t know how I would have protected her if they’d found us.”

Anthony rushed to Hudson, gripping him by the lapels. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” he shouted, shaking the young man. “I never would have let her return to that neighborhood if I would have known of the danger.”

Merrick peeled him away. “Turning on one another and casting blame is pointless. We have to think how to get them back.”

He knew Merrick had been an officer in the Peninsular Wars and would know how to keep a cool head during a crisis.

“What do we do?” he asked. “I’ll pay anything. Everything. I can’t lose her. Them.”

“We return to your house,” Merrick said. “The ransom note could come tonight or even tomorrow. This Farmon may wish to drive you to your breaking point before he makes known how much he wants for their return.”

“It won’t matter,” Hudson said dully. “You can pay him a king’s ransom. He won’t release Laurel. He’ll keep her for himself. She humiliated him. He’s a vengeful bastard. He’ll never let her go.”

Blind rage struck Anthony. He turned wildly, not knowing what to do. All rational thought fled as he thought of another man touching Laurel. A primal scream erupted, its piercing wail sounding inhuman. He fell to his knees, a wave of helplessness overcoming him.

Everton helped bring him to his feet. Their gazes met. Determination flooded Anthony as a calm descended upon him. Years of honing his rage and directing it elsewhere finally took over.

“I will fight to Hell and back—but I will bring them home,” he said.

“We will return to your house,” Everton said. “Merrick will go and retrieve a few Bow Street Runners. We will wait together for the ransom demand.”

“Merrick and I will follow whoever delivers it,” Lord Alford said. “We can be on opposite sides of the streets and trade off tracking the messenger. See if he goes back to this Farmon. Or learn if someone else is behind this scheme.”

The men left the library without a word. Merrick peeled off from the others to make his way to the Runners’ headquarters in Covent Garden while the rest returned to the Linfield townhouse.

When they arrived, Alford motioned to Hudson. Anthony knew they would wait outside at a distance in case the ransom note arrived before Merrick returned. Everton accompanied him inside.

“Where is your aunt? Does she know anything?”

“No. I merely told her Laurel and Hannah were delayed at the orphanage.”

“It would be best to keep her in the dark,” the duke advised. “Think of something.”

“I’ll go see her now.”

He found Aunt Constance reading in her sitting room. She smiled. “There you are, Anthony. How are the girls?”

“They are involved in a special project of the Duchess of Everton’s making,” he lied smoothly. “They are with her and several other important society matrons and will still be tied up for several hours.”

“They won’t be attending tonight’s rout?”

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