Noah had never in his life imagined that he would be turning to his enemy for help, but then again, the enemy of his enemy was his friend, and in this case the man who had killed Emmeline was his enemy. His enmity for Leverton was not even a fraction of his hatred for the man who had killed his beloved.

“Will you help me with this, Leverton?” Noah asked, while removing his night cloak and putting it over his arm to reveal his dark clothes. “I know you want revenge for your sister and I want total vengeance.”

Leverton slowly sat back in his chair and braced his elbows on his desk, “Do you have any proof of this?”

“May I sit?” Noah asked.

“I’d prefer you not, but if your argument has any merit, you may,” Leverton replied, with his fingers laced before him.

“You be the judge,” Noah replied, while sitting on the chair before Leverton. “The first clue I had was overhearing my mother and grandmother speaking and Emmeline’s name was—”

“Lady Emmeline,” George interrupted.

Noah’s jaw flexed in irritation but continued, “Lady Emmeline’s name was mentioned. My grandmother stated outright that she had to be removed and that my mother had agreed to it. Five nights ago, I saw my mother paying a man who she had sent to search out whether my grandmother had really paid someone to kill Lady Emmeline. I launched my own search, and I’ve found a connection to a mercenary that operates in London and the surroundings. It was the same man that my grandmother had dealt with.”

Leverton was silent, “And you’re sure?”

Ire sparked in Noah’s mind but he quelled it, “Positively, but until I am free of all these erroneous charges, I cannot freely chase after the man. I need you to do this for me until I am absolved.”

The other Duke was silent but his eyes, golden like Emmeline’s, made Noah uncomfortable as the silence stretched. It got to the point where Noah felt his cause was lost and he was about to be ushered—or thrown out—of the Leverton’s manor.

“Why are you truly doing this?” Leverton asked, with his eyes digging into Noah’s. “I am not above thinking you’re using trickery.”

“For what?” Noah snapped, “What on earth sort of trickery would evoke this?”

“The Lords in London know about our feud,” Leverton replied, “This can easily be you currying favor with them to spite me.”

Noah’s lips thinned, “I came to you in good faith, hoping you would put aside this damned feud, and get absolution for one we both love. Put suspicions aside, man—not everyone is as underhanded as you are.”

Leverton’s hands slapped the table and he glared darkly, “You are waking on thin ground, Newberry.”

“Are you not owning up to your treachery, then?” Noah inquired. “You cut off all my contact with London, and then offer me a flimsy deal, which pushed me to tell the Lords in London about your actions. I am not born a tattletale, Leverton, but I will go to all ends to defend my people, even if that means sacrificing my honor and pride in the process.”

“Honor.” Leverton snorted while leaning back smugly, “Please give me your definition of honor.”

Oh, for the love of God! Noah cursed internally. “Honor is sacrifice, which is the only reason I’m here staring my archenemy in his face. Honor is doing what is right, even if it means forsaking your own family or birthright to do it.”

“A very eloquent speech, Newberry,” Leverton replied contemptuously, “Did you happen to give my sister the same drivel?”

“I wasn’t given the opportunity to tell her that I would have thrown myself in the projection of a lead ball for her, or brave the ten trials of Hercules if her hand was the prize,” Noah said calmly, “She could have asked me for a blood ransom, Leverton, and I would have barred my arms. That is how much I love your sister. Think of that speech in any way you desire.”

The words Noah had just said had come from the bottom of his soul and after uttering them he felt empty like a malevolent force had come and ripped him in half and spilled his entrails.

Leverton looked uneasy as he shifted in his chair, “Love…you said love.”

Noah frowned, “Yes, and what of it?”

“Love,” Leverton replied, “Present tense, even though she is dead, and anyone else would have said loved, you said love—present tense. Are you still holding onto the notion that she is still alive, even with the…” he swallowed, “gruesome evidence we had received?”

Noah pressed the fingertips of his left hand to his eyes, his tired, stinging eyes, “She will never be dead to me, Leverton, not as long as I am alive. She is the one and only for me. My grandmother—damn her—arranged for me to court and marry a rich heiress from South London whose estate is more than forty-thousand pounds per year.”

The Duke of Newberry did not have to look up to know the other man was shocked, “I turned the marriage down, Leverton—the lure of money will not make me sacrifice my soul and mind to have it, while my peace is gone.”

Once again silence reigned until Noah heard a screech of chair legs on the hard floor and looked up to see Leverton walk to his window. The dark of his clothes merged with the dimness in the room and Noah sat quietly as the other Duke clasped his hands behind him.

Then Leverton’s voice came over, “You make a compelling case, Newberry.”

Noah felt hope surge within him so strongly that his heart leaped into his throat, “You will agree, then?”

It took a mere moment, but to the seated Duke it felt like the longest moment of his life for Leverton to turn, “I do.”

Slowly standing, Noah reached over and held out his hand, “Truce.”

Golden eyes darted to the outstretched hand for a fleeting moment before Leverton grasped his hand in a strong grip. “Truce…for Emmeline.”

It was the strangest thing, seeing Newberry leave his study with a truce between them. George finished his sherry while mulling over the words he and Newberry had spoken.

The words Newberry had spoken so passionately about Emmeline had George decidedly uncomfortable. Never had he heard anyone speak so assuredly about a lady and slowly, very slowly, George was beginning to believe that the man really loved his sister.

However, if there was one thing George knew, it was to take everything with a grain of salt. Nothing was that straightforward. But then again, that could be just his mistrustful nature. First thing he was going to do the next day, was go to London.

If he found that man before Newberry did, George couldn’t promise that there would be anything left for Newberry to destroy. His vengeance was so deep seated that George didn’t know if he could control himself.

Crossing the room. George opened a cabinet and took down one his family’s heirlooms, a long sword that had been passed down from his grandfather. It was used in the Napoleonic Wars in 1803 and had tasted its share of blood. Sliding the blade out of the sheath, he admired the glint of steel and ran his thumb over the edge.

His finger was sliced and he smiled at the drops of blood crawling down his finger, “Whoever stole my sister, I promise, you will feel my steel.”

The carriage trundled down to the Newberry estate with Noah staring at the hand that Leverton had shaken. The Duke was still in amazement that he had finally brokered a peace with his family’s enemy. He softly closed his hand and dropped his fist into his lap as he stared out the window into the forming darkness.

He had stolen out of the manor house without anyone but his butler knowing. If his mother or—God forbid—his grandmother knew about it, they would be furious. But Noah’s back was in a corner and he didn’t have many options. The only one he thought he could count on—theoretically—to help him was the one person who hated him. But then, they had a connection—Emmeline—and if Leverton had refused his earnest plea, then the man had no heart.

The carriage turned into the drive to the Newberry mansion and Noah’s eyes traced the dark lines of the ancient trees lining the path. He had already directed the coachman to go around the back as the front way was not wise to enter. The carriage went around the back of the mansion to the stable and Noah alighted.

“Good night, Your Grace,” the coachman said as quietly as he could.

“Same to you, Mr. Peart,” Noah replied, then he entered the mansion by a servant’s entrance. He made it to his floor and removed his cloak. He breathed a breath of relief while stepping across the threshold.

“We missed you at supper,” his mother’s voice called out, “Where did you go? And do not think about lying to me, Noah.”