Page 12 of The Untamed Heart

“Good lord, you can tell all that just from the letter?” Sheringham burst out.

Lucius glowered. “No, I can tell all that from years of studying paper, ink, handwriting produced under different conditions, and from using my brain,” he said, withering contempt dripping from every word.

Hawkney braced himself, assuming Sheringham would take offence and reply with his usual devastating brand of cutting reply. He was shocked when the fellow only shook his head in admiration.

“Fascinating,” Sheringham said with a laugh. “Marvellous.”

Lucius, who for all his odd ways was not immune to flattery, eyed Sheringham with a little more interest.

“Not really. Anyone with a brain could do it with proper instruction.”

“Even me?” Sheringham asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Doubtful,” Lucius said with a shrug.

Sheringham snorted with delight.

Hawkney looked between them and sighed. Lucius was bad enough as it was. If he had an admirer, he’d be worse than ever.

“So, what did Marcus do that the fellow is hoping to expose?” Lucius asked.

Hawkney stiffened, glaring at him. “Not a damned thing. But Marcus wants the truth to come out, no matter what. He says there’s a rumour that orders were sent to him, commanding him to retreat. He never got them. A good job too, as his stand helped turn the tide of the battle, as we all know. Yet he lost a lot of men. Hell, it’s a wonder he kept as many alive as he did, and he only just survived himself. But someone wants to rewrite history and make him the villain. Why?”

Lucius pondered this.

“Marcus is a terrible hero.”

Hawkney opened his mouth to defend his friend, but Lucius hushed him.

“Don’t go taking a pet. It doesn’t matter about reality. It is about what people see and believe. Marcus does not want the limelight, he wishes to be left alone—really, I know just how he feels. However, this man knows that. If I remember anything about Marcus, it’s that he despises the limelight. No doubt the legend that grew up around Hollow Road is weighing him down. Why? Because he’s guilty. No—not of wrongdoing. But he is guilty. His men died. He lived. For a man like Marcus, that is the worst guilt of all, and it hangs over him like a damned noose. It’s easy to see it. The blackmailer sees it. He is depending upon it.”

“That’s more or less what Miss Foxworthy said,” Sheringham pointed out.

Lucius bristled and Sheringham subsided into silence, which was definitely a first.

Once he was certain his audience was paying attention, Lucius recommenced. “The man you seek is not an honourable one. Oh, perhaps on the surface. He may even appear heroic. Many cowardly men make wonderful heroes to the public, but then I have never understood people. I believe this blackmailer does not understand true heroism. It would not occur to him that Marcus would risk disgrace rather than slink away quietly.”

“No. I believe we have ascertained that much for ourselves,” Hawkney said with a nod. “But what now? The information you have given us is fascinating and certainly a useful starting point, but it hardly pinpoints the man. How do we do that?”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow. “Good God. You don’t. What a ridiculous notion. No, no. It will take a deal of tedious research of the kind you would neither understand nor endure. You may help me, however, for I shall need a good deal of information.”

“How kind,” Hawkney said through his teeth, remembering with far too much clarity why the fellow always drove him to Bedlam.

“What do you need?”

Hawkney stared at Sheringham, who had uttered the fateful words, with patent disbelief, but the man was frowning at Lucius, apparently quite genuine in his desire to help.

“I must build a timeline,” Lucius said, blithely unaware of Hawkney’s simmering impatience. “I need Marcus’s exact location, the position of his regiment. Who commanded him, who drafted the alleged order, and who might have carried it. When ought it to have arrived? What routes were available? How likely it is that the carrier simply got killed? Which units were moving where?”

“How on earth—”

“I’ll need despatch books, order logs, adjutants’ records, courier assignments, after-action reports, casualty lists. If you can find me the man who wrote the instructions and the names of the likely couriers, that might solve everything, but I suspect the blackmailer is certain enough that this is impossible, or he’d not risk it. No, he’s very sure he has covered his tracks, if he is guilty of wrongdoing, else he’d have not acted. This may be more serious than it appears at face value. I would not be surprised if he decides threats are not enough.”

Hawkney suppressed a shiver of unease and nodded. It wouldn’t be easy to get their hands on all that information, but being a duke came in rather useful at times. “I’ll see what I can do and ensure you have access to everything you need.”

Lucius snorted. “I can do that without your assistance,” he said curtly.

Hawkney decided he was too worried to take offence. “You will help, then?”