Page 40 of The Duke Decides

Louisa considered seizing the quill and trying to stab him with it. He would upend a hundred lives and ruin her, purely for his own selfish gain. “Why do you need our land? I thought you were out to make yourself Duke of Barkham.”

He laughed and shrugged, as much as admitting to his crimes. “I admit I’ve been on the hunt a while for a way to elevate my fortunes. Hard work staying in favor with the Wellington government while playing dice with the Whigs. Comes at a cost, all that keeping up appearances, and the title will help, but there aren’t exactly streams of money pouring in, you know.”

He stepped further into the room, rounding the desk, and Louisa took a step back as Fenton looked about him, evaluating the plain, tidy room. “Like any peer’s estate, Barkham’s assets are all land and investments. I won’t be able to liquidate enough to pay my debts, and if I did, I wouldn’t be able to live in the style that befits a duke. I’ll have Barkham—don’t think I won’t. I deserve it more than that worthless man lying in your room there. The bastard son of a whore, getting himself up as a duke.”

Fenton curled his lip, moving the signet ring on his finger. “He’ll learn soon, if he doesn’t know already, our uncle ran things into the ground. Poor Harry had to go abroad to try to live more cheaply. I was the one clever enough to seek out my own sources of income. Proving, yet again, that I am the worthy heir, and that upstart ought to be cleared out of my way.”

“Stay away from Gabe. We’ll—we’ll have you taken to court. We’ll bring charges.”

“On whose word?” He sneered. “The word of a murderer, the woman he’s made his whore? What cracking good testimony that would be. They wouldn’t even call you to the stand. You have no authority here, and no reason to obstruct me. Now let me through so I might talk to my cousin. See if I can find some shred of sense in his head.”

“No. You’ll just try to kill him again.”

Fenton’s eyes widened, a shard of delight gleaming from the blue. “Oh, did my cousin have another run-in with thieves? How very unfortunate. I heard he was attacked at Vauxhall, but he will run about in the most unsavory areas, you know.”

“Leave off harassing her, Fenton. Your quarrel is with me.”

Gabe stood in the doorway, half-dressed. He wore his boots and waistcoat, but no coat or cravat. He looked large and magnificent, and dangerous with the cut above his eyebrow, but Louisa guessed what it cost him to be on his feet.

“In truth, both of you are standing in my way,” Fenton mused. “So I’ll start here.”

From inside his coat he withdrew a dueling pistol, mate to the one Louisa had salvaged at Vauxhall, and leveled it at Gabe’s chest.

“You, Matron, will write a letter agreeing to sale of the Benevolence Hospital and its lands to me and my agent. I don’t doubt there will be more paperwork down the road, but you know what the cost of crossing me is, yes?”

He regarded Louisa’s glower and answered her with an amused smile. “A bit of spirit. I do like that in a woman, though you take it too far. Call for help,” he said pleasantly, “and I’ll shoot him. Scream, and I’ll shoot him.” His brows lowered. “Stand there any longer, and I’ll shoot him, from sheer boredom.”

Louisa bit her lip. She wasn’t the owner of the Hospital or its grounds; the deed was held by the board as a whole, and his claim wasn’t likely to go far with a mere piece of paper from her. He was nocked in the head, not to know that.

However, he held a gun leveled at the man she loved. Louisa sat herself at her desk.

“That ring,” she said, smoothing the tremble from her voice and hands as she pulled a piece of vellum from her precious stack and took up the quill. “That was the sign my husband used with his friends. How did you come by it?”

“Ships move between here and France, you must know. One of your handkerchiefs bears your family crest, and your sister nun spotted it once in the laundry. Happens I have a friend in Lens, and once we were able to identify the d’Estreaux symbol, it wasn’t difficult to connect you to your crimes. You are still much talked about, it might please you to know.”

She was desperate to ask what he knew of the d’Estreaux family, of her mothers and sisters and whether they had prospered under the Bourbon Restoration as they had hoped, but now was not the time.

“Louisa, don’t give him a thing,” Gabe said from the doorway. His low voice sent a shiver down her back.

She would do anything to protect him. Anything. Didn’t he know that?

“Do, please, give me a reason to shoot you,” Fenton said, still in the same smooth, pleasant tone. “I’d take such satisfaction in doing so.”

“You’re mad if you think you can get away with threatening me. Louisa’s right. We have grounds to turn you into the authorities.”

“To whom? The brand new Metropolitan Police? They couldn’t catch a thief if he stopped and bowed to them. Get writing, Matron. My arm grows tired. I might accidentally fire this thing.”

Gabe leaned against the doorframe, affecting nonchalance. “You’re madder still if you think anyone will accept you as Barkham. The Dowager Duchess won’t have it, of that you can be certain. All of Harry’s friends will turn their back. As for the House of Lords—they know your reputation. You’ll be laughed out of your seat.”

“If you haven’t been laughed out yet, don’t see as how I will be. Are you done with that letter yet, woman? My patience is growing thin. I might fire anyway just for the pleasure of—”

Louisa saw the feral glint in his eye and did the only thing she could think of. She threw the inkwell straight at his face.

The gun fired, the blast deafening in the small space. Louisa flinched and ducked despite herself. With a snarl, Fenton wiped ink out of his eyes with one hand. With the other, he threw the spent pistol at Gabe, whom he’d missed entirely, the shot embedding in the lintel above and to the right of the doorframe. Gabe knocked the pistol aside and lunged.

Fenton lunged also. But instead of leaping toward Gabe, he grabbed one of the sabers from the wall, then bolted out of the room.

Louisa screamed. She couldn’t be certain, ever after, exactly what she screamed. An alert to the residents that a man bent on murder was loose in their halls; a shriek of fury at the audacity of his attack; a warning to Gabe to have a care. He snatched the second saber from its bracket, then plunged through the outer door in Fenton’s pursuit. Louisa jumped up from her chair and followed.