The Revenge of the Betrayed Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “I shall accompany you back home then,” Emily said as if she was pleased by the turn of events. “I wanted to discuss something important with you, and I would very much like to see Augustus.”

  Edward wondered if that was what this whole preposterous situation was about. Perhaps she was torturing him so he would break and let her see her friend. Edward rolled his eyes and walked without replying to the woman.

  When they reached his home, Edward waved at the doorman to let the man know that it was fine. The doorman held the door open for Edward and Emily to enter while giving Edward a curious look. Thank goodness the man was professional enough that Edward would probably never have to answer for the curiosity he saw in the man’s gaze.

  Inside Edward excused himself so he could get Augustus. While he was gone upstairs, he also took a bit of the powder and sighed in relief as the pain began to dull after a few minutes. He quickly fetched Augustus who was overjoyed to hear that Emily had finally come to see him.

  “Oh, Emily,” Augustus announced with happiness as he came down the stairs far quicker than he should have. The man almost stumbled but caught himself. “My angel of mercy,” Augustus called Emily before he pulled her into a hug, which Emily accepted with a look of amusement on her face.

  Emily beamed at the man as he let her go. “You look so much better,” she said. “Are you feeling more yourself?”

  “I feel better than old Augustus,” the man proclaimed. “I feel so much better that I am not sure who this new man is.”

  Edward stood to one side of the room and leaned against a wall as he eyed the pair. He had come here to destroy those who had betrayed him, but he had forgiven Augustus his trespasses and the man was proving helpful. Emily though …

  She was talking excitedly to Augustus about how much better he seemed while she held one of his hands affectionately. She looked beautiful, Edward’s mind informed him, but Edward was not interested in such nonsense. He had a job to do, and Emily was in the way of that.

  Emily looked over at Edward, and her smile faded a bit. Perhaps she had noticed the look on his face? Edward did not know, and he did not want to think about it either. He pushed away from the wall and strode over to them relishing how much better his leg felt.

  “Augustus still cannot remember the name of the man that James paid off in France,” Edward said. At his words, Augustus frowned and lowered his head.

  Emily’s face hardened when she looked at Edward again. “I was actually coming to talk to you, not about that in particular, but about ways I could help,” Emily said.

  Edward was not interested in anything that made Emily’s presence more necessary. Especially, if it meant she would be looking at him with those eyes all the time. Edward started to dismiss her out of hand but paused. “What do you suggest?”

  “I could speak to James,” Emily offered. Although Edward had not rejected the idea, she said, “Hear me out.” When Edward did not speak, Emily continued, “James is often deep in his cups. He might be persuaded to say something that he normally would not.”

  Edward sighed in dissatisfaction. It was true that Emily might have better luck at needling James into saying something than Esteban Duarte because of her close connection, yet it did not sit well with him. Finally, Edward nodded. “I know that when you get an idea in your head that you tend to be hard to dissuade. On that count, I will simply agree with you as I can already see it is futile to do otherwise.”

  “Good,” Emily said with her chin held high. “Now, as much as I am saddened to do so, I have to take my leave. James will be expecting me back in time for tea,” she said more to Augustus than to Edward.

  Augustus reached out his hand to Emily who took the man’s hand gently. “Be safe, Emily,” Augustus whispered.

  “I will,” Emily assured him with a warm smile that made Edward envious of the affection Emily showed Augustus. Edward turned his eyes towards the window and listened as Emily bid the man goodbye. The swish of her skirts told Edward she was leaving, but he kept his gaze held away from her.

  When the door opened and closed, Edward took a deep breath and looked around. Augustus was sitting on the sofa, and the only thing of Emily left in the room was the faint scent of roses that clung to the air wherever she went. Edward left Augustus to his whims and went upstairs to his own room where he sank down onto his bed. There was little he could do until his next night at the tables, not that Edward had much enthusiasm left for the game.

  Chapter 15

  Emily stepped through the door at Dalton Hall and pulled off her gloves. Although the weather was mild outside, Emily was chilled through by what she was contemplating. She knew that she had to find out the information that Edward needed. Hopefully, if she did so, then Edward would stop looking at her with eyes filled to the brim with suspicion.

  “Is the Duke in?” Emily asked the doorman who nodded.

  The man said, “He is in the study, Your Grace.”

  Emily took a deep breath and set off towards the study where the man often barricaded himself with alcohol and thick smoke. She frowned at the wallpaper along the hallway she strode down. It was an atrocious and gaudy spectacle more than a wall covering. Emily had much preferred the understated designs that Edward’s mother had favoured, but it was what it was.

  The study door was firmly shut as it always was. Emily stopped beside the door and eyed it for a long moment. She took a deep breath as she reached out to knock on it. The loud sound of her knocking made Emily’s stomach lurch uncomfortably.

  “Come in,” James’ harsh voice called through the wooden door.

  Emily squared her shoulders and smoothed her dress to buoy her confidence. When she pushed the door open, she saw James leaned back in the leather desk chair with his feet propped up carelessly on top of the old Duke’s beloved desk. Emily grimaced at the sight that James made, but she covered it with a smile. “James, I was wondering if you would be in tonight for the evening meal.”

  “I shall be,” James said, his words slurring together slightly.

  Emily shook her head at her husband. “You have been drinking too much lately,” she chided.

  “Nonsense,” James said, and Emily frowned as the man waved a glass of brandy around grandly, sloshing a bit onto himself. James chuckled at the folly and did not even bother trying to clean himself off. “I am like a fish that swims in the river.”

  Emily nodded. “You smell like one too,” she said with a smile.

  James grumbled at Emily. “Go on with you. Why are you vexing me? Get to the kitchens!”

  “We have staff to cook, James,” Emily reminded him. “Although, very soon we shall probably have to fend for ourselves, will we not? Have you anything left to your name?”

  The man raked a hand through his disorderly blond hair, the glass swinging wildly in his other hand. “You are a hag with your screeching,” James sputtered. “What do you want?”

  “Tell me about what happened in France,” Emily said. She watched the man’s face. There was something that Emily could have sworn was fear that went across James’ face before he masked it with a snarl.

  James roared, “Why do you want to know about that wretched place?”

  “Well, Edward died there,” Emily said as she folded her hands in front of her and watched the man intently. “You, Augustus, and Oscar were all there. I just want to know, and you are going to tell me.”

  With a laugh so loud and untethered that it hurt Emily’s ears, James slammed his hand down on the desk causing more of his drink to spill with the movement. “I will not tolerate this insolence anymore from you!”

  “I am not being insolent. I am asking a question that I have every right to ask,” Emily said as she forced her voice to remain sweet and calm.

  James glared at her as if he could strangle her, and Emily found it odd that the expression did not bother her. She had stared into Edward’s unfeeling eyes, and James’ anger paled in comparison with that. James said, “I already told you all of
it.”

  “Odd that Augustus tells it a bit differently,” Emily whispered just loud enough for James to hear her.

  James gaped at her, then he growled, “Augustus is a drunk, and anything he says is just the drink talking. You should know better than to believe fairy tales.”

  “I should, yet I have believed so many,” Emily said with a nod. “Like the fairy tale you told me that painted you as a broken war hero and Edward as a villain. Tell me the truth, and I will never bother you again with it.”

  James scoffed, “I have told you the truth.”

  Emily softened her voice as she said, “It is noble of you to protect Augustus, but I know from his ravings that his guilt is from his responsibility for Edward’s death.”

  His eyebrows shot up. James poorly hid what Emily saw was a smile before he said, “You must not hold it against Augustus. He had been deep in his drink when it all transpired.”

  “And you?” Emily asked. James eyed her intently, and she added, “Surely Augustus did not manage to frame Edward alone. Did he not ask you for help?”

  James shook his head. “He said he had a run-in with a prostitute’s relative of some kind, an uncle, I believe. He needed money to pay the man off. I did not think much of it at the time.” James looked down at his drink and sighed. “Oscar knew. I have long protected them out of loyalty, but I do not feel I owe Oscar any loyalty anymore as he has betrayed me with your Spanish friend.”

  “You mean, Mr Duarte?” Emily asked as she leaned forward a bit as James began to mumble as the alcohol thickened his tongue.

  James nodded and patted the table. “That’s the one,” he said thickly. “They are plotting against me. I think they mean for me to take the fall for Edward’s death.”

  “Good thing you have a clever wife,” Emily told the man with a smile.

  James chuckled. “Yes, a good thing,” he agreed with a nod. “I am tired. I think I should go to bed.”

  “What was the uncle’s name?” Emily asked as she came over to offer her assistance to her inebriated husband. James eyed her curiously, and Emily added, “So, that we can prepare in case the man should need to be contacted to defend your side of the story.”

  James nodded and patted Emily’s hand. “So clever,” James whispered. “I believe it was Durand, Nicolas Durand. Yes, that was it. I shall contact him straight away!”

  “I think you should rest first,” Emily prompted, and James agreed heartily as he pushed himself up to his feet.

  James patted Emily on the shoulder, and it was the kindest the man had been towards her in the last couple of years. Emily watched him go then shook her head. She felt guilty for lying to James even after how he had treated her over the years. She straightened her shoulders. It had to be done, and it would take the strain off poor Augustus.

  ***

  Edward received the letter from Emily with some trepidation. A young lad had delivered the message to Edward’s doorman, and Edward had known that Emily had been unable to leave the house that day. He tore open the letter as soon as the door was shut.

  “What is it?” Augustus asked. “What is wrong?”

  Edward shook his head. “Emily got James to tell her the man’s name. It is Nicolas Durand.”

  “Yes, that is it,” Augustus said with a nod. “I only heard James use the man’s name in passing, but that does sound familiar.” Augustus asked, “Is that all the letter said?”

  Edward nodded and tucked the paper into his coat. “Yes.” He went towards the stairs. “I shall write to my friends in Spain and have them go to France to find Mr Durand. With hope, he will still be in the same area.”

  Edward felt Augustus’ eyes on him as he went up the stairs, but the man said nothing further. Edward’s teeth ground together. Augustus’ health was steadily improving, but the damage he had inflicted on his body was substantial, and Edward had already reached out to the man’s parents. They had moved shortly after Augustus returned from the war to be with Augustus’ grandmother whose health had been ailing at the time. As of yet, Edward had not heard anything back, but letters took time to travel through the countryside.

  Once Edward was in his room, he shut the door and listened to make sure that the frail man had not followed him in some vain attempt at friendship. Edward might have pity for him, but that was not the same thing as complete forgiveness. Let Augustus have his peace of mind, Edward had to focus on the matter at hand.

  He pulled Emily’s letter from his pocket and eyed it. Edward read over the last sentence. “I hope this helps you find some peace.” Edward frowned at the sentence. Perhaps peace would come, but it would not be this day.

  ***

  Emily took a deep breath and contemplated what it would mean when Edward got his revenge. It was all the man thought of, it seemed. She had hoped he would reach out to her after she helped secure the information he needed. However, after three weeks with no word from the man, Emily had taken it upon herself to journey to his home.

  The doorman for once did not stop her, and Emily gave him a courteous nod as he let her inside the home. Inside she found the front room empty. She did not know who might be at the residence, so she called hesitantly, “Mr Duarte?”

  There was a clicking sound, and Edward appeared at the top of the stairs, overlooking the front room. Edward eyed her curiously, and Emily tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at his gaze. The clicking of his cane against the steps as he walked down echoed in the silence of the house.

  Emily could think of nothing to say as Edward did not take on the mantle of host and offer any hospitality. “Is Augustus out?” Emily asked even if the idea of the ailing man being out was a bit far-fetched for her.

  “He is resting,” Edward said with only the faintest trace of the Spanish accent that lingered out of habit.

  Emily nodded. Augustus was usually a safe topic between them, and Emily was not sure what to do without the man’s presence. “Did you find my letter useful?” Emily asked as she tried not to sound too much like a lapdog.

  “Very much so,” Edward said in a pleased tone even if the smile he gave her did not quite reach his eyes.

  Emily smiled back at him when the man showed no signs of speaking any further. “How will you get the man to testify?”

  Edward shrugged and leaned against the banister at the base of the stairs. “I have some friends who are going to go have a chat with him. I should hear something soon enough.”

  Emily was silent for a long time before she pulled together enough courage to say, “Will you not abandon this revenge? Do you not see what it has done to you?” She looked at Edward and begged him to see her heart.

  “It is none of your business what I do,” Edward told her with a sneer that nearly broke Emily’s heart in two. “You are only afraid because you know that when your husband is ruined, you will be as well.”

  Emily shook her head. “It is not that. It was never that. You must know, Edward, that I love you as much as I ever did. Here you are back from the grave, and I rejoice to see you.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Yet, all you think of is this revenge. Did you not think of me at all while you were plotting your return?” Emily searched the man’s face for anything, any shred of hope.

  “Of course I did,” Edward said.

  Emily walked towards him then, hope rising in her. “Then let us go. I would run away with you on the next tide and go anywhere you like as long as I can be with you.”

  “And what did you promise James to get him to marry you?” Edward’s voice was mocking and filled with bitterness.

  Emily had been reasonable. She had been fair. Now though she saw red, and she was tired of all the ridicule from the men who claimed they once loved her so dearly. Emily put her chin up and said in a low voice that trembled with emotion, “Do you want to know how James married me?” She walked forward another step and looked Edward squarely in the eye. “He bought me from my father when my father’s business took a turn for the worse.”