The Widow’s Wager by Claire Delacroix

Author:Claire Delacroix [Delacroix, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke

Bert Latimer was so astonished to find the Duke of Haynesdale at the door that his characteristic impassive expression might have been compromised.

“I have been to see her,” the duke said grimly, stepping past him into the house. He halted in the foyer, leaning on his cane, his gaze assessing and his manner expectant.

Latimer closed the door and invited the duke into the front parlor with a gesture. “Your Grace?”

“I come in search of information,” the duke said crisply. “Miss Ballantyne refused my assistance and I must know the reason why.”

Latimer stood straight. “I would not compromise my lady’s trust…” he began but the duke made an impatient gesture.

“Then she may spend years in that prison cell, and for no just cause. I know she is not a thief and I take responsibility for my part in her being charged as one. But you must perceive that the sole way to correct my error is to prove the identity of the true thief before Miss Ballantyne’s hearing.” He paused while Bert considered his options. “It will be on May 6, a Tuesday, and unless action is undertaken now, it will be short and she will be found guilty.”

“But the true thief has left England, Your Grace.”

“And his name is already known. I see no reason for Miss Ballantyne to defend him, which means there is a detail I do not know.”

“She would not defend him!”

“She refused to tell me where he might be found.”

“Perhaps she does not know, Your Grace.”

“Perhaps there is another risk she would avoid.” The duke’s gaze was so steely that Bert had to drop his to the carpet. He was torn between his duty to his mistress and his desire to ensure that her best interest was served. He, too, felt the lack of information.

“I cannot breach her confidence, Your Grace.”

The duke harrumphed, the noise disguising the sound of an approaching footstep. Doris was in the parlor before Latimer could stop her.

“Don’t be an old fool, Bert,” she chided, then curseyed to the duke. “I am Miss Ballantyne’s housekeeper and cook, Mrs. Nelson,” she said. “And I have heard things.”

The duke smiled a little. “As all clever servants do, Mrs. Nelson. I have never thought it a betrayal of duty to confess such details when doing so would assist one’s mistress or master.”

“Nor do I, my lord. He came, that fiend, and I was certain she would cast him out. Anyone could tell that he meant ill to my mistress.”

The duke braced both hands on his cane to listen. “Yet she did not cast Jacques Desjardins out of her home?”

“She was afraid, Your Grace.”

“Doris!” It appalled Bert to admit to anyone that Miss Ballantyne possessed any weaknesses.

“She was, Bert, and you know it. He was a bad ’un, that one, wicked to his very marrow. Any woman of sense would be afraid of him. I was.” Doris paused and Bert hoped she might not say more. “But she was not afraid for herself, Your Grace, though that would have been reasonable.

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