One more contact had left Newberry, George noted with a satisfied smile as he dropped the message on the table. This was his way of dealing with Emmeline’s death. Yes, he had cried in private but destroying Newberry was his tangible way of grieving.

If there was nothing else the Duke had learned from his grandfather, it was that an enemy should be treated as an enemy, and to weaken their power no hand shouldn’t be played. In the last month the Duke of Leverton had used his influence—and a few nasty rumors—to make most of the business contacts Newberry had, drop him like a blistering wad of coal and leave him stranded.

It wasn’t moral but it was wise and George needed Newberry on his knees. The man had stolen his sister from him and so he had to pay and pay dearly.

Cutting off Newberry’s resources was one step—George wanted full retribution for his sister which meant total obliteration. He was considering his next tactic to remove Newberry. Since he had cut off most of his investors, leaving only him standing, George was waiting on the Duke to come crawling to him for his partnership.

I’m going to destroy you, Newberry. With no other options, you must come to me.

“Your Grace,” Hudgins, the butler, spoke clearly from the doorway, “You have received a letter from the Duke of Newberry.”

Frowning, George stood and took the folded paper and after thanking his manservant, broke the wax seal and read:

Duke of Leverton,

With regards to your latest trade proposal, I have to decline. Your offer, Sir, is skewed to you and your people’s benefit with no advantage for me and mine. I have sent a copy of your proposal to Duke Kent-upon-Barr, and he will be the arbitrator in this matter.

Secondly, I am aware that you are using your contacts and influence to remove my investors from me. I am no fool, Leverton, and I know your underhanded tactics come from unsupported ideologies that I had anything to do with Lady Emmeline’s death.

Your game, Sir, will not succeed. Leverton, you are sacrificing meager pawns while I am lobbying the King.

The Duke of Newberry

George’s eyes narrowed to slits—he had not thought that Newberry would stoop so low to forfeit his pride and become a tattletale. Grudgingly, he had to admit Newberry had made a good move, one grounded in battlefield strategy–go to the source and cut off the middlemen.

Tugging a drawer open, George looked at the one remnant of his sister, as a reminder and further impetus to wreak havoc on Newberry. The stained handkerchief was safe inside a velvet sack but George didn’t have to open and look at it to feel driven. He was going to destroy Newberry no matter what.

Noah stood motionless as he watched the grandiose coach drive up the entranceway of the manor—a month and three days since his grandmother had maliciously told him he was to be married off. Inside the coach was his wife-to-be, Lady Constance Calloway, daughter of Earl of Berklingshire. It still irked Noah that his mother and grandmother had conspired against him and arranged for this union without his input.

The Duke did not know what he was going to do with a girl nine years younger than himself. Surely, she was raised with all the graces all young ladies had, but no matter how prodigious they were, he would never be entrapped with them. There was only one lady who could have done so and she was gone. Emmeline had died and taken all his affection with her.

Standing there, Noah watched the coach come upon the drive gate and stop. Setting his jaw, he turned and left the room, knowing it was his duty to be present when the family entered the manor.

Dressed in fine clothing, all made from the finest materials but as black as the deepest night, the Duke entered the foyer to see his mother and grandmother already standing there. The Dowager Duchess was glaring at him but he didn’t deign to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it. He had barely arrived before an older gentleman entered with a young lady by his side—Lady Constance Calloway.

The tall and stately Earl was dark haired but had streaks of silver at his temples. Noah didn’t look too closely at the girl but he saw silky blonde hair under her bonnet and large blue eyes that enhanced her innocence.

“Lord Berklingshire,” Noah reached out to shake his hand, “Welcome to Newberry. I do hope your journey was a pleasant one.”

“Six-hour ride.” The Earl sighed, “Bless you, Duke, for giving us lodging.”

The smile on Noah’s face was a little brittle. “You are welcome. May I introduce my mother, the Duchess of Newberry, and my grandmother, the Dowager Duchess.”

The Duchess curtsied, while the Dowager Duchess merely dipped her head slightly. “Welcome, Lord Berklingshire.”

Smiling, the man bowed to each. “Thank you, and may I introduce my daughter, Lady Constance Calloway.”

The dainty lady grasped her skirts and executed a curtsey that could rival those at court. “Thank you for having us, Your Grace.”

Noah noted a small French lint to her voice and wondered if the lady had been educated in Paris. “Lady Constance Calloway, you have a handsome name; Constantia. Latin for steadfastness. I am enchanted to meet you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she flushed moderately.

The Duke looked at Lady Constance's elfin features and golden hair but to no purpose. If he were any other than who he was, he knew he would feel some interest in her. But his heart was already taken.

“Well, let my housekeeper lead you to your quarters and please join us for luncheon,” The Duchess of Newberry invited.

With a curtsey and a shake of hands, Noah watched the two being led away and turned on his heel. He had nothing to say to his family members, as the frame of mind he was in, they didn’t deserve to be spoken to. His civility to his guests was all he could muster at the moment.

“Noah.” His mother called to his back and although pausing his stride to listen, he didn’t turn, “This is for the best, Son, please understand.”

Clenching his jaw tightly, he left the room and went directly to his study without a word uttered. There he pushed the very present memory of his guest to the back of his mind and took up a letter he had received two days before.

Even though he was under suspicion, that didn’t mean he was powerless. Emmeline’s death was one thing he couldn’t change but there were things he could. The mystery of who was framing him for St. Maur’s murder was forefront and Noah was determined to find this person.

In the past two weeks, Noah had sent out orders, by the way of his agent, to find sleuths, and pay them to investigate who had uttered his name while killing St. Maur. No one had come forward and Noah was getting impatient. His reputation, and his dukedom by default was getting besmirched by the hour and the only way he could salvage it was to find who was framing him.

It was torturous to wait but that was the only thing he could do now, and he had to accommodate this child. Noah was set on cutting this courtship off at the quick, hopefully with no hard feelings on either side, but that was a gamble. He would be grateful if the Earl of Berklingshire still assented to supporting his ventures but if not, he would surely find a way to survive.

Secondly, Noah was dead set on finding out if his mother and grandmother had anything, even in the slightest, to do with Emmeline’s death. It was painful to think his family was behind it but at this point—a point of desperation—he couldn’t leave any stone unturned.

The plans were swirling in his head like a torrid sea, rushing at one point and retreating at another, but he kept them in order. Make a courteous arrangement with Berklingshire, find out who was framing him, and then find out what hand his parent and grandparent had in his beloved’s death.

The dull sting behind his eyes whenever he thought about Emmeline was present but beside another surge of desolation in his chest, nothing much came of it. Passing a hand over his face, Noah turned to his desk and sat.

Before presenting himself at luncheon, Noah stood before the portraits of his ancestors, men who had held his position decades ago. The gilded portraits held the image of five men, and the last was his late father, Winston Nicholas Carlisle Fitzroy. The man’s gray eyes were so steady, and held within them so much knowledge and wisdom, that Noah wished he could press his hand to the painting and absorb some of his sire’s astuteness.

“Father…” Noah trailed off. “I wish you could come back and tell me what to do. I find myself between a hard place and a self-sacrificing decision. Should I marry this girl to save our people or…?”

Even as Noah spoke the words, he knew within himself what his father would have done and felt like a hypocrite. Winston always placed his people before himself and if he was aiming to be even half the man his father was, Noah knew what he had to do. It wasn’t pleasant but it had to be done.

Turning to the door Noah walked through it. To the gallows, I go.

The dining table was set with a wonderful repast of cold meats from various fowl, venison, and warm bread, cheese, biscuits, wafers, and fruit. Bottles of wine, tea, and coffee were also present and Noah arrived just in time for his mother to be seating the two guests. The Duke was relieved that the Dowager Duchess was absent because if she was present, he knew he would leave.

The Earl and Lady Constance were about to stand up to greet him when Noah waved them off, “No, please remain where you are. I apologize for not arriving earlier. Greetings, Mother, Lord Berklingshire, and Lady Constance.”

Taking his seat, Noah forced his mind to be present. The conversation wasn’t lacking as the Earl was a learned man, quoting from Aristotle to Archimedes and those between. From covert glances to Lady Constance, Noah saw that she wasn’t befuddled by any of the terms or the people and Noah knew she was just as learned as her father was. Curious for such a young lady.

The meal commenced with smiles all around and though Noah had gone into it a bit hesitant, he came out with some ease. Having not eaten much, he dabbed his mouth with his napkin.

“My Lord, would you assent for Lady Constance to walk with me this afternoon? Just a stroll around the gardens.”

The man eyebrows rose slightly, before he looked at his daughter whose eyes were on her lap, and then returned his eyes to the Duke. “Surely, Your Grace. Constance?”

“Yes, Father,” Lady Constance replied softly, while demurely meeting Noah’s gaze, “I would be delighted to.”

“Mother?” Noah asked, “Would you accompany us?”

The Duchess’ face fell a little, “I cannot, as I must attend to Mother. Miss Isla was assigned to her last night, Mr. Cole please fetch her.”

“Right away, Your Grace,” The butler replied while bowing brusquely and turning away to get the maid. She arrived moments later with a respectful greeting and courtesy.

Nodding, Noah stood and waited for Lady Constance to do the same. The girl was lovely figured and her clothing accented that. Extending his arm to her, Noah smiled when she grasped it and murmured, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Placing his palm over her hand, Noah led them through a side door onto the shadowed walkway that led to the gardens. As they walked, the Duke was aware of the maid’s discreet steps behind them.

“Your father is an educated man, Lady Constance,” Noah remarked as they walked, “Did you finish your learning in France?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lady Constance replied, “I learned much from governesses but my mother decided, before she passed, that it was best to learn directly from the masters of etiquette. I spent a year and a half in Marseilles.”

“I went to Nice, myself,” Noah remarked as they entered the garden. The fresh smell of roses, carnations, and evening primrose perfumed the air. The soft blue sky and gentle breeze of early afternoon gave a benign feel to the garden. “France is a lovely country.”

They walked, with Noah asking her most of the questions but steadily Lady Constance lost her shy air and gradually inquired about his life. After telling her about his father, he led her to a gazebo situated behind a fountain and they sat on a curved bench.

In the short walk, Noah had come to like the girl, but just as a girl—not as his wife and he was about to explain it to her.

“Lady Constance,” Noah said softly, “I know you are here because your father wants a good husband for you, but I do not believe anyone has asked you your opinion on the matter. Do you want to get married—to me?”

The girl’s eyes darted to her lap and her hands were twisting. Noah patiently waited, “Don’t be afraid, you can tell me. I think, to ease your anxiety, I must tell you my side first. Only a month ago, the lady I love died without warning and she took my heart with her. If I do go into this marriage, it will all be for show, as my love is and was only for her.”

Lady Constance’s eyes were wide, “That’s horrible, Your Grace, I am so sorry.”

Noah accepted her condolences with a nod, “Thank you, but the facts are that she is gone, and my dukedom is in peril. I will consent to this marriage if there is no other way, as my people need a leader who cares for them, not only himself. Are you agreeable to this marriage, My Lady?”

The girl looked torn and Noah frowned a little, “What is it? Please tell me.”

She nibbled on her lip for a moment, “The truth is that I have…a suitor that was before you, but when my father received your proposal, he chose you over him because he’s only the son of a Baron.”

Noah paused. Her tone was a little odd, “Do you love this man, My Lady?”

Lady Constance looked terrified but she nodded, “I do, Your Grace.”

“Then the matter has solved itself,” Noah replied. “I am sorry for this pretense, Lady Constance. It wasn’t I who sent that proposal, it was my grandmother–while I was still mourning my departed beloved. I had no intention of marrying anyone but her.”

A willful look took the young lady, “I will speak to my father about it. I know he will not refuse me when I plead your cause about the duchy. My Father is not a hard man, Your Grace.”

Her words nearly sent Noah into shock—how was she going to help him after such a refusal? But the look in her eyes assured him of her help and he smiled. Grasping her hand, Noah kissed the back of it, “Thank you, Lady Constance. Let us get back to the manor.”

Helping her up, the Duke walked them back to the house and left the young lady in the hands of his housekeeper. Moving back to his quarters, he was about to enter his study when his mother came around the corner.

“Oh Noah,” the Duchess smiled, “How was the walk?”

Considering how to tell her the truth, Noah decided it wasn’t fair to tell his mother alone and said, “Good news, Mother. Where is Grandmother? I think it’s best to tell you both at once.”

The delighted look on his mother’s face was one Noah knew he was going to hate to crush but they should have known better than to make plans for him.

“She is in her parlor,” the Duchess replied, “Come with me.”

The second-floor parlor wasn’t far and they both arrived to see the Dowager Duchess reclining on a chaise, with a book in her hands. The older lady looked up at them and her lips curved, “Good news, I expect.”

“Oh, the best,” Noah replied sagely. “Mother, sit.”

When the Duchess sat, folded her hands on her lap, and looked up expectantly, Noah began. “I just finished walking with Lady Constance and we spoke about our pending courtship…”

The expectant looks on both faces grew. “…and there will not be one.”

The Dowager Duchess’ book met the floor, while rage painted her wrinkled face, “You stupid boy! What did you do now?”

“I told her about Lady Emmeline and she admitted that there is a man she loves with her whole heart back at her home. She only came to appease her father. What kind of heartless cad would I be, to take a lady away from the one she loves, just for the sake of money? We would live a loveless life, and even if I can survive that, an unspoiled flower like Lady Constance would wither away.” Noah’s tone was steady. “You two should have never decided to intervene in my personal life. The only good thing that has come from this meeting, is that she has agreed to speak with her father about investing into our ventures. Goodbye, Mother, Grandmother. I hope you have learnt your lesson.”

Noah left the silent room feeling like the spirit of favor had finally smiled upon him. He had barely reached his study when Cole found him and told him that Lord Berklingshire was requesting an audience with him.

“His demeanor was studious, Your Grace,” Cole said, “Not angered in the slightest.”

“Hm,” Noah contemplated, “Get a bottle of the best sherry from the wine cellar and escort the Earl to my study.” Stepping inside he smiled, “Let’s prove your scheming obsolete, Leverton.”

“So, we have an accord then,” Noah said while standing up and reaching over to shake the Earl’s hand. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” The Earl replied, while tugging his waistcoat down after shaking Noah’s hand, “Our resources will do well together.”

The Duke sobered, “Berklingshire, I do regret this fallacy coined by my grandmother, but it has one bright spot to it. Please, let your daughter marry the one she loves. I can tell you from experience that losing your true love is not only heartbreaking but it shatters you to the depths of your soul. Do not let her be soulless, Berklingshire… for me.”

The man sighed, “You make a good point, Duke. Good evening to you, I’ll have the contracts sent over as soon as I can.”

There wasn’t a promise to let Lady Constance marry the one she did love, but Noah had done his part–he would not push anymore. Ultimately, it was the Earl’s decision to make his daughter happy or not. “Good evening to you too, Berklingshire.”

The night was descending and Noah was feeling a deep-seated turn in his fortunes. After being inside for most of the day, he decided to take a walk. He left the house and meandered through the very same garden when he heard voices and a particular voice—his mother’s.

Edging up to the nearest cover, Noah spotted his mother covered by a cloak, and her voice wafted over to him.

“—the mercenary was paid, then?” the Duchess asked.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the man’s deep voice replied, “I made sure to see the exchange, but from my observation, nothing much came of it.”

Mercenary… what mercenary?

“Thank you,” the Duchess replied, then handed a small parcel over to the man, “I’ll be in touch.”

What the devil is going on?

He waited with steel straightening his spine and anger coiling in his body until the man left the garden. His back had barely disappeared when Noah stepped out of his cover.

“Mother!” Noah exclaimed, “What are you doing with that man?”

The Duchess jerked and spun around, her hood falling over her head. “Noah! Wh—what are you doing here?”

“Answer my question, Mother.” Noah’s tone was sharper than a two-edged sword, “What was that about?”

“It’s nothing…I can’t…it’s nothing, Son.” His mother stuttered. “Please, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Striding to her, Noah grasped her by her shoulders, “What were you paying him for, Mother?”

His mother didn’t answer. Her face had gone tight and Noah’s stomach sank. “What is this about a mercenary? Did you…was he the one who killed Emmeline, Mother? Did you murder the one lady I love?”

She didn’t say a word and anger laced through Noah. His voice had gone tight and ragged with pain. “Answer me, Mother, did you kill Emmeline?”