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Which shouldn’t come as a surprise. In order for Graveston’s solicitor to have found Diana so quickly, the new Duke must have had his own spies hidden among the household at Graveston, some of whom had trailed her when she fled to Bath after her husband’s death. If those informers remained in the city to watch her, they would have already sent word to the Duke about his relationship with the widow.
If the Duke wished to be coy, not revealing what he already knew, he could play along, thought Alastair, his irritation building. ‘As a friend of the Dowager Duchess, I wished to approach you about a family matter. Gentleman to gentleman, without recourse to involving the sheriff or the courts.’
‘Gentleman to gentleman,’ the Duke repeated, raising an ironic eyebrow. ‘Do proceed.’
‘The Dowager, naturally distraught over the death of her husband, needed time away to compose herself. She seemed to doubt that you would agree to provide her with the support and assistance to which she is entitled as your father’s widow.’
The Duke’s smirk of a smile compressed to a thin line. ‘I’m surprised the doxy is intelligent enough to understand that. Support her?’ His raised voice had a derisive ring. ‘She left Graveston Court voluntarily; let her support herself. I’m sure she wheedled enough baubles out of my father to keep herself in furs, gowns and sweetmeats for the rest of her life.’
‘Nonetheless,’ Alastair countered, holding on to his temper, ‘she’s still entitled to her dower.’
The Duke’s eyebrows lifted again. ‘She can certainly apply for it. Any claims submitted on that account will be referred to my solicitor.’
‘She was your late father’s legal wife. Your man might obstruct, harass and delay such a petition, but in the end, the law will see she gets what she’s entitled to.’
The Duke laughed outright. ‘Oh, I certainly hope she gets what she deserves! My father’s legal wife—ha! Only think, he set aside my mother, who lived only to please him, for her. And what an ideal duchess she made! Incapable of running the household. Contradicting my father in front of his guests. Disputing the gentlemen’s opinions and ignoring the ladies, to whose company she should have directed her attention and remarks. Well, he had little enough joy of her. Just the one brat, after eight years of marriage.’
While Alastair bottled up his mounting ire and disgust, Graveston continued. ‘Ah yes, the brat. I shall very much enjoy helping him discover what it’s like being the son of a displaced mother!’ He smiled, anger glittering in his eyes. ‘I’ll enjoy even more having her know he’s experiencing that delight, and she’s responsible.’
Diana had warned him, but he hadn’t believed it. ‘You would punish a child?’ Alastair asked incredulously, revolted.
Graveston shrugged. ‘Not punish. Just...instil in him a proper recognition of his place. He’ll survive. I did. It will make a man of him.’
A man like you? he thought. No wonder Diana wants to keep her son away.
‘He’s a Mannington brat, for all that, even if he is half hers. Perhaps we can beat that out of him. One can try.’ He smiled again, as if relishing the prospect. ‘He will need to be trained to his role—to serve my son and heir. Which brings me back to a matter more important than the spurious claims of my father’s former wife. Since you seem to be on such good terms with her, perhaps you’ll inform her if she does not return the boy voluntarily, and soon, I shall have the Court of Chancery order it.’
‘She would appeal such a demand. You can’t know for sure they would rule in your favour.’
‘Can I not? When the head of an ancient, venerable family of vast resources magnanimously offers to support a half-brother, even though he’s the spawn of a nobody? Worse than a nobody, a woman whose odd and irregular behaviour forced her husband to banish her from Society. Who fled her home before her husband’s body was scarcely cold, instead of remaining to greet the heir and see proper tribute paid to her late master. Not to mention, as any number of witnesses can testify, a mother who paid practically no attention to her son from his early years until his father’s demise. Do you really think she has any chance to hang on to him? If you’re such a friend, you should advise her to spare herself the embarrassment of having her conduct censured before the Court, and send the brat back now.’
So Diana was right; the miserable little muckworm did intend to exact his revenge on her son. His fighting instincts fully aroused, he said coldly, ‘I certainly couldn’t advise that.’
His eyes narrowing, the Duke examined Alastair’s face. ‘So that’s the way it is, eh? I suspected as much. Though she has a pretty enough face, I suppose, and the same charms as any trollop, I still find it hard to understand how she entices men, but take some friendly advice. Have your fill of her and get out. She’s about to face the consequences of her infamy, and it would grieve me to see a gentleman get dragged in it.’
‘I think she has suffered quite enough already at the hands of the Dukes of Graveston.’
‘Do you, now? Then let me assure you, the retribution she so justly deserves is only beginning. The investigation is in its early stages, but it’s highly likely that she, ah, assisted my father’s departure from this earth. It’s common knowledge that she and the Duke did not get along, as every servant in this house would swear under oath. If this investigation bears fruit, I intend to have her brought up on charges of murder. So you’d be well advised to make your exit before she entangles you any further.’
Alastair first thought the Duke must be joking, but by the end of that incredible speech, realised Graveston was entirely serious. ‘Bring her up on murder charges! That’s preposterous! I advise you to consider your position before making such a ridiculous charge. It’s more likely you, not the widow, who would appear reprehensible if Society learned that, not only had you no intention of honouring your obligations towards a woman who, despite your dislike of her, is still a dowager duchess, you are persecuting her with baseless and slanderous charges.’
‘And I advise you again to consider your own reputation! How do you think Society will react to learning that, within days of the suspicious death of her husband, his widow hurried off to Bath to meet her former lover, with whom she is now conducting an illicit affair? Perhaps also the man who incited her to dispose of the husband he’d always hated for winning the woman he loved?’
Hot words hovered on his tongue to challenge the Duke then and there. But the man would probably welcome a confrontation—such behaviour would give credence to the absurd scenario of illicit passion and revenge the Duke was constructing.
Besides, Alastair was quite certain a man intent on exacting revenge against a defenceless woman was likely too much a coward ever to meet him; bullies preferred to attack weaker beings rather than confront a man equal to them in vigour and influence. Better for him to take his leave now, before Graveston could provoke him into losing his temper, then plan in the coldness of reason how to counter this threat.
Accordingly, he raised his eyes and fixed the Duke with a glare that had made many an errant subordinate quake. ‘If it weren’t beneath me to soil my blade with the blood of such a scoundrel,’ he said softly, ‘I’d call you out for such slander. I can promise you, I won’t forget it, and there will be a reckoning.’
Keeping his temper in check with some difficulty, Alastair rose. ‘Since it has become quite plain you are unwilling to recognise your responsibilities towards the widow, there is nothing to be gained from prolonging this interview.’ He sketched the briefest of bows. ‘I will no longer keep you, as you doubtless have many pressing duties,’ he finished, with a last jab at the wait forced on him.
‘Indeed I do, Mr Ransleigh.’ The Duke nodded, looking very pleased with himself.
Alastair found it even more infuriating that the Duke appeared so supremely confident of his own power, so dismissive of the possibility that Alastair might devise some way to check him, that he gave no credence to Alastair’s threat. His heart smouldering, he knew in that moment that even if Diana’s welfare were not involved, he would have to bring the man down. He also knew he would do everything in his power to prevent the Duke from getting his hands on Diana’s son.
The Duke accorded him a brief nod of dismissal. Fuming, Alastair stalked out of the salon.
Just outside in the hall, he encountered a tall, thin, hawk-nosed woman with housekeeper’s keys hanging at her waist. She stared at him boldly as he paced by her, a thin smile on her face.
We’ll see who laughs last, he vowed under his breath as the imperious butler shut the entry door behind him.
* * *
Several days’ hard riding later, before returning to his sister’s lodgings on Royal Crescent, Alastair rode instead to the townhouse at Green Park Buildings. He knew he owed his sister some attention after decamping with hardly a word, but he also knew Diana would be anxious, waiting to learn what he had discovered. He wished he had a better report, but the bad news wouldn’t improve by putting off the telling.
