Page 158 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“I think Algernon was attempting to close whatever business your father had left unfinished,” William said. “A pair of boots waiting at a shop seems insignificant, but leave enough insignificant things behind and eventually someone begins to wonder why a man supposedly planning to disappear made no effort to settle them.”

It made horrible sense.

The forged farewell. Augusta’s story about another woman. The carriage that had carried her father away. Even something as mundane as a pair of boots had been dealt with afterward, each detail intended to support the same carefully constructed lie.

That Edmund Carlisle had abandoned his family.

They had thought of everything.

Almost.

They had not accounted for his daughter refusing to believe it.

Rosalind straightened. “How soon can we reach Bryn Hir?”

William seemed to understand the question beneath the question. “Nearly two days if we ride hard and change horses along the way.”

“Then we leave tonight.”

“Rosalind, it will not be an easy journey.”

“I do not care.”

“I know.” William stepped closer, his voice gentling. “But I need you to understand what you are proposing. We don’t know who is waiting for us there or how many people are involved.”

“We know Papa is in danger.” Rosalind gestured toward the letter. “Whoever wrote that believes keeping him there has already become too dangerous. They want Algernon to decide what to do with him, and I will not remain in London waiting to discover what that decision is.”

For a moment, William simply looked at her.

Then he nodded. “All right.”

Rosalind had been prepared to argue. The easy acceptance startled her more than an objection would have.

William reached for the letter and folded it carefully. “I know the road, and I have been to Bryn Hir before. If we leave tonight and ride through as much of the night as we can, we may be able to reach it sooner.”

“You do not have to come.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Rosalind held his gaze.

There was no defense of Algernon now. No attempt to find another explanation or convince her that what they had uncovered could somehow mean something else.

William had searched his own brother’s rooms. He had taken evidence from them and brought it directly to her. Now he was prepared to lead her to an estate where they might discover that his brother had done something unforgivable.

Rosalind knew what Algernon meant to him. She knew how deeply the revelations about his family had already wounded him.

And still William had come.

“I believe you,” she said.

Something softened in his expression.

“I should not have accused you of—”

“Rosalind.” William shook his head. “We can settle everything between us later.”

Everything between us.