Page 95 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
Sam nodded rapidly and moved with quick, short steps as he entered and stood beside Luke’s chair. He said nothing for a while, merely shrinking under the Duke’s stare, until finally the Duke snapped at him.
“Well? What is it, boy?”
“I—” Sam faltered, his mouth working up and down, and he glanced at Luke. Luke didn’t dare respond in case the Duke thought they were plotting something together. He was in enough trouble already, and he certainly didn’t want Sam to suffer as well.
But what could he possibly want?
“Mr. Jones is innocent, Your Grace,” Sam said, finally finding his voice. The Duke scoffed.
“Yes,” he said, “all the evidence does seem to suggest that, doesn’t it?”
“No, Your Grace,” Sam said, missing the sarcasm that stuffed the Duke’s words. “But I overheard Noah talking to someone I ain’t ever met. Servant of Lord Belmont, apparently.”
The Duke paused and looked at Sam curiously, his interest clearly piqued. Even Luke was intrigued, realizing this must have been the Earl’s plan all along.
“Lord Belmont?” the Duke asked, incredulous. “Are you honestly trying to tell me he has something to do with this?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Sam said with a little more confidence. “He paid Noah to crash the carriage on purpose. ‘e knew Mr. Jones and My Lady was thinking of running away, you see. Or ‘e suspected it, anyway.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that…” the Duke asked, “of a nobleman?” He scoffed, turning away, but now that Sam had found his voice, he could not stop.
“That’s not all, Your Grace,” he said. “Twas ‘im who stole your letter opener and ‘e planted it in Luke’s place. Or one of ‘is servants did, at least.”
Luke didn’t dare open his mouth, but his breath froze in his chest.
Yes. It all makes so much sense now.
The Duke sat down and stared at the floor, chewing his lip.
“It’s the truth, ‘onest, Your Grace,” Sam said, his eyes full of pleading.
“And why haven’t you said anything before now?” the Duke asked. His voice was softer, but still on the edge of rage.
Sam shrugged awkwardly. “Dunno, Your Grace. Guess I didn’t quite believe it. And was worried for my place ‘ere. I need this job more than anything, Your Grace. I wouldn’t lie, not unless it was important.”
Luke could see the Duke’s chest rising and falling, his eyes still trained on the floor. The information had obviously thrown him, and Luke couldn’t be more thankful to Sam.
“I need time to think about this,” the Duke said finally. “It doesn’t sound like the actions of a nobleman, but… I need time to verify what you are saying. Jeffries, secure Mr. Jones somewhere and ensure he does not get out.”
“Your Grace,” Jeffries said, nodding. “And do you still wish for me to call the Constable?”
“No,” the Duke replied, shaking his head, “not yet, at any rate. Give me time to think.”
“As you wish,” Jeffries said, and he nudged Luke to signal it was time to get up.
“Now, everyone out of my study. I need some peace and quiet if I am to solve anything.”
“I should go and check on Alison,” the Duchess said, getting up quickly and dashing through the gathering in the room.
“Yes, my dear,” the Duke said, “and send her my love.”
