Simon stirred from where he had stood frozen in front of the windows facing the great lawns of the estates. “She has no enemies,” he said.
The magistrate nodded, but still pinned her with a stare that demanded an answer.
“I do not.”
He scribbled in his book, and she wanted to snatch it from his hands and read what he thought was noteworthy in her answer.
“Have you made any recent acquaintances? Anyone suspicious?”
She stilled, a prickle of doubt and disbelief scything though her heart. “I’ve made several recent connections, but none were suspicious.”
“Are you able to provide me a list?”
She set the teacup and saucer down with a rattle. “I can. Most are lords and ladies from London society and have had no contact with Nicolas. I cannot see how they would benefit from taking him.”
“And do you know of someone who would benefit?”
Simon strolled over to rest a hand on her shoulder. She desperately wanted to lean into his comforting presence, but forced herself to sit spine stiff and straight.
Simon replied, “The late duke had a younger brother, Lord James Rutherford. He is Nicolas’s uncle…and the man with the most to gain if something ill befalls—”
She surged to her feet, dislodging herself from Simon’s arm, and whirled to face him. “Do not say it!”
Regret gleamed in his gaze, but there was also knowledge in his eyes she hated to see. It filled her with fear and rage. “What do you know?” she breathed.
His lips flattened. “Little of value. When I know more, I will inform you.”
“Don’t you dare, Simon. If this is in relation to Nicolas, I demand to know,” she insisted.
The magistrate stood, his beady eyes bouncing between them. “I believe whatever knowledge you may have will be of aid in my investigation, as well.”
“I doubt it,” Simon said coolly. “You do your part, and I will do mine. If our paths collide, then so be it.”
She laced her fingers tightly together in front of her. “Tell Sir Edward what you have learned, Simon.”
A few seconds ticked by before he spoke. “Lord James is in enormous debt.”
Sir Edward reopened his leather notebook. “And you discovered this when?”
“Just a couple hours past. When I got word of my nephew’s disappearance, I immediately reached out to…certain connections to glean some information.”
Rhys. Her heart lurched. If the information had come from his quarter, there could not be any doubt of Lord James’s precarious financial state. Her late husband’s brother had always been amiable, if a bit too cheerful. The few times he’d visited, he’d always brought a present for Nicolas, but otherwise had seemed disinterested in his nephew. The very idea that he would orchestrate her son’s disappearance was outrageous.
“And who did you turn to that could uncover such information in such a short time?” the magistrate demanded, his voice rife with suspicion.
“That is hardly your concern. Just know I trust in his source information, and you should leave no stone unturned as you search for the young duke.”
The magistrate shifted his regard to her. “Have there been any demands for money?”
“No.”
He nodded. “If Your Grace will permit the intrusion, I will leave a few men here in the event a note is delivered. My constable will inform me posthaste. I will return to London and start my investigation. I will begin with Lord James.”
“Yes, and thank you. I will provide a carriage to ensure your speedy return to town.”
He bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
A few seconds later, Simon escorted the men outside. Georgiana’s thoughts tumbled over each other in frantic haste. Was it possible for Lord James to act with such rank disregard of his own nephew? The last time they had seen him was the previous year. He sent the occasional letter inviting her and Nicolas to his estate in Cornwall, but she had always declined.
The door closed and she glanced up. “If Lord James is in debt, why would he not approach me for a loan? How is taking Nicolas a viable plan? I am the one in control of his trust until he is of age.”
Simon faltered, an unknown emotion flaring to life in the depths of his eyes before he lowered his lashes.
“What is it?” she asked, almost afraid for Simon to voice whatever terrible thought he had.
He expelled a soft breath. “His debt is in many thousands, Georgie. Here and abroad.”
“And?”
“Lord James needs to access money only the dukedom can provide.”
She wanted to scream, to cry out her terror as Simon’s meaning became clear. The fear striking at her heart was overwhelming. “You mean…you believe he may have my…my Nicolas killed?” Georgiana asked through bloodless lips.
“It is possible.”
“Rhys gave you this information that Lord James is heavily in debt?”
Her brother frowned at the intimate use of Rhys’s name but wisely refrained from commenting. “The instant I got your message, I prevailed upon him for the information. We haggled, and I got this information within a few hours.”
&nb
sp; She closed her eyes. “Did…did you tell him?”
“No. I simply asked for the secrets of Lord James.”
She pressed a closed fist to her stomach. “I need… Take me to him,” she said hoarsely.
Simon frowned. “Who? Lord James would have hired underlings to do his dirty deed to cover—”
“I am speaking of Rhys Tremayne. Take me to him. If Nicolas was taken…taken with such nefarious intention, he could unearth this information, yes?”
“Georgiana, please, let me handle this.”
“No. I need to see him myself.”
“Not bloody likely,” he snapped. “I will find Rhys’s weakness and offer him the right deal for the work he will do.”
“Take me to him, or I will go alone, shouting in the streets of London until I am face-to-face with him.”
“You cannot be seen at Mr. Tremyane’s house. You are the duchess—”
“Do you expect me to worry about propriety when my son is missing?” she snarled, fury filling her. “When my son may be the victim of a covetous murder plot?”
Simon scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, and that is why I am doing the thinking for you. Let me travel to Mr. Tremayne and broker our new arrangement.”
She wanted to cast up her accounts to hear her son’s fate being spoken of so heartlessly, her pain and despair rendered to a simple cold, businesslike transaction. She walked away from him, exiting the drawing room and issuing commands to the few hovering servants. Ignoring Simon’s virulent curses, she ran up the stairs to her chamber. Her lady’s maid entered a few seconds behind and aided Georgiana into her traveling dress, a dark-green redingote, and a matching bonnet.
The door to her chambers was shoved opened, but she ignored her scowling brother and hurried past him. He was on her heels down the stairs.
“I can see you are determined to be reckless. I understand your fear, Georgie—”
At the bottom of the stairs, she rounded on him. “I know you love Nicolas, Simon, but it is impossible for you to know my fear and my torment. I…I am su…supposed to protect him,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’ll not sit idly by. So, if you know where Rhys is, take me to him now, and cease worrying about my sensibilities and position in society when my son’s life is threatened.”