“Lord Quentin is risking his position, money, and status,” she said. “I believe he’d be desperate enough to do everything in his power to keep his life unchanged.” Lord, what would she do if Hector was locked up in a mental institution? He’d never come out. “What can we do?”
“Legally, ask for a second medical opinion in case Lord Quentin’s chosen physician gives an unfavourable diagnosis.” Ernest gathered the documents, the gesture lacking confidence. “Socially, I’d strongly suggest you show yourself to social events to quell any rumours about the Savage Duke.” He paused to gaze up at Hector. There was no hint of the caring and attentive man he was with Verity. His hard expression held only ruthlessness. “And I strongly advise you to behave flawlessly. Please don’t snub Lord Quentin. It’d be better if you keep an eye on him and pretend everything is fine.”
“Is that all?” Maddie asked. “Be polite to Lord Quentin?”
He cleared his throat. “There might be something else.”
“Yes?” Maddie prompted.
Ernest took his time before continuing, straightening the documents. “Miss Frances Naylor. I guess she’s the young woman Hector saw with Lord Quentin.”
Maddie froze. “How do you know about Frances?”
Ernest scratched the back of his neck. “You told Verity. She told me. Don’t be angry with her,” he added quickly. “She was concerned about the girl and asked me if there was a legal way to help her.”
“I won’t use Frances against my cousin.” Hector shook his head. “Quentin would destroy her reputation.”
“But if Lord Quentin fears you might reveal what happened with Miss Frances, he will withdraw his request. We can protect Miss Frances’s reputation,” Ernest said.
“No, it’s too risky.”
Maddie’s admiration for him only grew. He was ready to face a false accusation rather than let Frances be ruined. But still...“You’d save dozens of families.”
“Good point,” Ernest said. “As unfortunate as Frances’s situation might be, the lives of the workers will be saved.”
Hector pressed his lips. “Sacrifice Frances for the workers? I’m not sure I can do that.”
Maddie understood his desire to do good. “But, Hector—”
“No.” His voice hardened. “We’ll find another way.”
Ernest cradled his chin. “Then I don’t have any other ideas for now.” He rose, his shoulders hunched. “I’ll do everything in my power to further your cause.”
Hector rose as well and shook Ernest’s hand with energy. “And I’ll do everything in my power to behave properly.”
The two men grinned at each other.
“I’ll visit Verity shortly, then I’ll have to write a counter reply to Lord Quentin’s solicitor.” He bowed his head, and after a brief exchange of nods, Ernest left.
The moment he stepped out of the room, Maddie shot to her feet and paced. What had made her believe she could have helped Hector? She’d made the situation worse.
“This is terrible.” She wrung her hands.
Anxiety was tightening a knot in her stomach. Perhaps, if they found a way to protect Frances as Ernest had said, they might convince Quentin to leave his title. No, Hector was right; using Frances would be vile.
It was horrible enough that Hector was deprived of his right to the dukedom and that those poor labourers were condemned to work in horrible conditions, without the added fear that Hector could be trapped in a mental institution. She’d heard horrible stories of those hospitals. If that happened, then she’d find a way to help him escape. She could hire one of those highwaymen who—Hector taking her hand interrupted her sad train of thought.
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.
“How can I not? Lord Quentin is a duke and a well-connected one. He could harm you, have you locked up somewhere, even in prison. Maybe you should consider using the information about Frances.” Sheesh, she kept going back and forth with that.
Hector trailed his fingers up her arm, starting the usual tingle in her body his touch triggered. “If he has me locked up, I’ll escape. I lived on a deserted island for years. I’m sure I can survive in the English countryside if necessary.”
“Surviving doesn’t mean living. After all you’ve been through, you should take back what’s rightfully yours.” She heaved a sigh, but she wasn’t sure if it came from her fear for him or from his wandering fingers caressing her neck.
“I promise I’ll be more careful and control my anger. What happened in Mrs. Landon’s house wasn’t your fault. It was mine. All mine. I learnt my lesson. I won’t do it again. I want to help the workers who have served my family for years. And I want you to be proud of me.”
“I already am.” Shock crept into her voice. How could he think she wasn’t proud of who he was?
