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“You know, she hasn’t beaten me at a duel yet,” he told Mr. Conolly.
“It’s true,” she agreed.
* * *
Charles and the Duke were cloistered in the Duke’s study. The sound of quills, scratching across paper was the only sound that filled the room. The Duke paused in his writing, to take a sip of the brandy that was near at hand.
Charles glanced up to find the Duke studying him. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?” he asked.
“Take a break, Mr. Conolly,” the Duke suggested.
Charles set his quill down, next to the paper. He sat back in his seat, folding his hands. He, too, had a glass of brandy, but he made it a habit not to drink until he had finished his work.
The Duke was taking his time broaching whatever was bothering him. Charles took a sip, letting the smooth, oaky taste of the drink permeate his tongue.
“I know that you’ve helped many gentlemen of the ton with their affairs,” the Duke began.
“I have been most fortunate,” Charles replied.
“Some of them with things of a very…private nature,” the Duke said.
“Yes. I have kept those matters utterly a secret,” Charles assured him, feeling like the Duke was about to reveal something equally private. “I will take those secrets to my grave.”
The Duke nodded, inhaling deeply. He had let his mask slip, if only a little. There was a haunted cast to his gaze. “Mr. Conolly,” he said, at last. “What if someone was being threatened—for the sake of argument, let’s say a letter, from an unknown source? What could be done?
“Presuming that the source was unknown, it would be best to find out who it is,” Charles replied. “I would suggest that a private investigator be hired. Once there is actual proof, charges could be brought formally.”
“What if both parties wanted to keep it a secret?”
“That, too, could be brought about in secret,” Charles replied. “Depending upon what it is that these threats are over.”
The Duke nodded. His gaze was on his desk. Charles had the curious feeling that the letters being discussed did in fact exist, and were in the top drawer.
“Your Grace, are you being threatened?”
“No, Mr. Conolly,” the Duke said. “I’m inclined to believe that it’s nothing, yet…” He smiled at him, then took a sip of his brandy. It seemed like he shook off whatever shadow rested on his shoulders.
Charles nodded. “If you find that it’s more than that then, please do tell me. I’m…rather talented at settling issues outside of court to my clients’ satisfaction.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Conolly. Thank you,” the Duke said.
Charles nodded, then returned his focus to the task at hand. He had found that the Duke’s previous will hadn’t been completed. It had been hastily done, and didn’t include most of the Duke’s property. Charles did not, however, forget the conversation that they had just had. The whole time, he kept an eye on the Duke, studying him.
Charles suspected that the Duke wasn’t an individual who frightened easily. Whatever had been sent to him had visibly shaken him, though. For Charles, it put the estate planning, and his desire to see his wife and daughter’s futures secured in a different light.
