Page 86 of Dukes Do It Better
It took everything within her to not roll her eyes. “You say ‘he.’ Who are you working with?”
“I received a letter several months ago from a man claiming we had a common goal, who said he could solve my money problems, but I had to keep his identity a secret. He said he’d been gone from the country for a few years and only a few people knew he was back in England, and he didn’t want his presence made public yet.”
Emma and Mal exchanged knowing looks while Devon continued on, staring at his dusty boots.
“He offered money up front for help, and promised more when I provided everything he needed.” Finally, Devon raised his face to watch Emma.
“I told him whatever he wanted to know,” Devon admitted with an audible gulp.
“Such as the location of Calvin’s business assets like the warehouse?” Mal said, but by his tone, he’d already guessed the answer.
“And the brewery in Kent,” she added.
Devon nodded. “That’s when I realized something was wrong. I provided details, but I didn’t ask how they would be used. I heard about the warehouse fire. He hired someone and was angry about it being doused so quickly.”
“You still haven’t told us his name,” Emma said.
“James Montague.”
Mal rubbed a palm over his face. “I need coffee. Do we have coffee?”
Emma silently pointed toward the pot on the counter. He poured a cup, muttering a colorful expletive under his breath, then topped off Emma’s cup.
“So why are you here, Roxbury? Why now?” Mal asked. He stopped next to Emma as he sipped his coffee, and she leaned into the warmth of his big body.
“Montague…he likes fire,” Roxbury said.
Emma vaguely remembered something about a devastating fire on Ethan’s estate the year before she debuted. She couldn’t remember the details. Lordy goodness, she’d been terribly self-involved.
“When I left the inn, he was still asleep. I’ve been up all night, wondering what to do. I thought we were here to push my suit, but last night he was in his cups and talked of burning down your barn and cottage. Emma, I swear, I didn’t know. But I fear I’ve brought disaster to your door.”
“Did Montague mention a time? Any specifics that might help us?” Mal asked.
“Nothing I could discern amid all the ranting. He blames all of you for everything. He says you stole years from his life and destroyed his fortunes. This is about revenge, but he won’t ever be satisfied,” Roxbury said.
Emma leaned her elbows on the table and cradled her face in her palms. “What’s the plan, then? Lay a trap for him here?”
“I prefer a more direct approach. He’s asleep at the inn? Let’s wake up the fellow and show him the error of his ways.” It was hard to miss the threatening manner in which Mal flexed his hand.
“That would be the quickest way to head him off before he enacts his plan,” Emma said.
“Let’s dress quickly and reconvene here in a quarter hour,” Mal said. “Roxbury, sit. You’re not going anywhere. We don’t know you won’t alert Montague to our arrival, so you’ll travel with us to the village.”
Emma rose and smoothed a hand down her wrapper, acutely aware of her state of undress. Everything was covered, but still. Roxbury in her kitchen while she had her hair tumbling in disarray and nothing on besides a robe was unnerving to say the least. Playing hostess gave her something to do, so she said, “I’ll make tea.” Devon preferred tea.
Mal brushed his hand over her back in a soothing gesture, then kissed her forehead. “I can make tea for Lord Roxbury.”
The gentle declaration—both the kiss and the subtle claiming of the kitchen—warmed a place in Emma’s heart that had gone cold as Devon made it clear that danger lurked outside her door.
“Thank you, Mal. I’ll get dressed and be down in a trice.” Without another glance at their uninvited guest, she left the room, acutely aware of the weight of Devon’s gaze on her back.
Upstairs, her hands trembled as she drew on a day dress trimmed in embroidered poppies and tied the cherry silk ribbons. The day’s plans might have changed from wedding planning, but she wouldn’t face her enemies looking less than put together.
Also, having enemies was still strange to her. Secrets? Yes. She had secrets aplenty. People who genuinely wished her ill, to the point of wanting to set her home alight? That was new.
She didn’t like it.
But Emma would look beautiful and poised when she faced this Montague person. Who apparently hated her and her home because of her connections to Calvin, Ethan, and Malachi.
