Page 175 of Courting the Wrong Duke

William’s attention snapped back to him.

“I do not know precisely how much he heard, but it was enough. He knew that your father had told me the truth and that there had been some discussion of telling you. After your father died, I assured Algernon that I had no intention of exposing a secret that was not mine to expose.”

“And he believed you?”

“For a time, I think he did.”

Rosalind heard the qualification. “What changed?”

Edmund looked at William. “You did.”

William frowned.

“You and I became closer over the last two years. We dined together more often. We spoke about books, politics, whatever happened to interest us. Occasionally you came to me for advice. None of it seemed remarkable to me.”

“But Algernon noticed,” Rosalind said.

“Yes. And the more time William and I spent together, the more suspicious he became. He began to see every conversation between us as another opportunity for me to tell William what I knew.”

William’s jaw tightened. “So he took you.”

Edmund turned his gaze toward Rosalind, and she felt his hand close more firmly around hers.

“Yes. I was seized after leaving White’s and brought here before I properly understood what was happening.”

The words sent a fresh wave of anger through her. Rosalind had known much of it already, or at least suspected it, but hearing her father describe his own abduction made it horribly real. Someone had taken him from a London street, carried him hundreds of miles from his family, and locked him beneath this house because of a secret he had never intended to reveal.

“Was Algernon there?” William asked.

“Not when I was taken.”

“But you knew it was him.”

“I knew why I had been brought here, and there are very few people who knew this place existed and had reason to fear what I knew.”

William was silent for a moment before asking the question Rosalind suspected he already dreaded answering.

“Did he come afterward?”

Her father hesitated. “Yes.”

Whatever hope William had still been holding seemed to disappear.

Rosalind watched it happen in his face, and despite everything Algernon had done to her father, her heart hurt for him.

There could be no explanation now. No misunderstanding involving a carriage. No innocent reason for Edmund’s boots in Algernon’s study or a letter discussing a prisoner at Bryn Hir.

His brother had known. Worse, he had come here and seen Edmund imprisoned, yet had chosen to leave him behind.

William looked away, and Rosalind’s heart tightened at the devastation he could not quite conceal. She wanted to reach for him, to offer some fraction of the comfort he had given her so many times over the past weeks, but before she could move, her father spoke again.

“Algernon was not here most of the time,” Edmund said. “There was another man here. A guard, I suppose, although he never seemed particularly eager to be one.”

Rosalind looked at him more closely. “What do you mean?”

“He brought my meals and water and made certain I remained where I was told. But I heard enough of his arguments with Algernon to know he was becoming increasingly unhappy with the situation.” Edmund’s gaze shifted to William. “You said you found a letter mentioning me?”

William nodded. “It was addressed to Algernon. The writer complained that his temper made it impossible to reason with him. He said the prisoner at Bryn Hir could not remain here indefinitely.”