Duke cocked his head, his smile wry. “Because, Vi, I am the best.”
She couldn’t deny that. Duke didn’t even need to work—his family was almost richer than royalty thanks to many generations of clever men—and Duke was no different. He worked to keep his quick mind busy, and the people of England thanked him for it—he was one of the best lawyers in the country.
“So they believe you could defend him against a murder charge, I suppose.”
“It seems that way but the evidence against him is strong. Even if I thought the man was innocent—which I do not—he was heard arguing with the victim the day before and he had blood on his clothes. I’ve seen people hanged for less.”
Violet retrieved the note and pulled it apart. A bitter taste burned the back of her throat as she scanned the hastily scrawled writing. They had his father and would kill him if Duke did not defend Doyle and ensure he was not hanged. The threat was simple, and she believed it. These sorts of people were not the kind of be trifled with.
“Even if you agree to defend him, he’s likely to be convicted.”
“Indeed.” Duke moved stiffly to her side and took the note from her, eyeing it for several moments. “I have no desire to even try to save that man from the gallows. He deserves everything he gets.” He looked at her. “If you had heard the full details of the trial, Vi...”
She laid her hand over his. “I understand.”
“I cannot in good conscience defend the lies of a man who is clearly guilty of that crime and more.” He looked at the letter once more. “But my father—”
“Well, we simply have to get him back from them.”
“Oh yes, simply,” he said dryly.
“We find out where they are keeping him and rescue him.”
With a chuckle, Duke swung a sideways look at her. “As easy as that?”
“Well, Roman knows some strong men. He hired them to look after his aunt if you recall.”
Duke nodded. “But we have to find my father first.”
Violet watched his jaw work and wished she could soothe away the tension with a tender touch, but it was too risky. If she embraced him, things might get, well, strange, as they so often seemed to do between them at present.
“Of course, there is a chance they are lying and do not have my father.”
“Yes, it could be a ruse,” she agreed. “Perhaps he really is delayed on the road.”
“How Patrick Doyle would be aware of that I do not know.”
“Let us hope for the best.”
“In the meantime, I should ask for proof.” Duke made his way to the round table in the middle of the library.
Some of her father’s books and notes were scattered across the glossy surface so she shoved them aside and retrieved some fresh paper from the drawer of the nearby writing desk. Duke eased onto a chair and Violet fought a trembling chin. She hated to see him like this—in so much pain both mentally and physically.
Duke did not talk of his mother and sister much, however, she knew since they died, he and his father remained close—closer than many sons and fathers. She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if her father was in the hands of such awful criminals.
She drew out the chair next to him and sat. “We can investigate. Maybe find out where he went missing and figure out where he was taken.”
“We?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, me.” She propped her elbows on the table then set her chin to her hands. “You can hardly be dashing around Bath in your condition.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head vigorously. “Oh no. Not a chance. I’m not having you go anywhere near these people.”
Violet resisted the desire to smirk. Little did Duke know after Clem’s adventures in investigating and with advice from her cousins who ran their own investigative society, she was in an excellent position to find a missing man. In fact, she rather welcomed the idea. Anything was better than sitting around and wondering what it would be like to kiss Duke again.
∞∞∞
Duke didn’t like the little quirk of amusement dangling upon Violet’s lips. What was there that could possibly amuse? He should be searching the streets, demanding answers, threatening legal action...whatever was needed to find his father. Instead, he was stuck here with ribs that panged every time he even considered taking a furious inhale.