Page 136 of The Formation of Us
Duke’s gut twisted. “Then he had no intention of returning her to us even if we had given him the property?”
“No. If anyone learned he had a bastard child by a prostitute from the very brothel he was tearing down, it would have played hell with his reputation and lowered him another notch in his father’s regard.”
“But Faith and I could have publicized the truth either way.”
“How could you prove it without having the child to back up your accusation?”
“That crafty, corrupt son of a bitch.” Duke shook his head. “I think Franklin Stone was far smarter than his father thought.”
“He manipulated all of us to some extent. The place he was sending Cora appeared to be a good home with people who would care for her. That’s what makes me think he was bluffing when he put that gun to her head.”
Duke huffed out a breath, both shocked and infuriated by the news. “I thought he was greedy and too driven to care about his own child. I feared he’d pull the trigger if I pushed him.”
“He might have. No one can know. His actions were desperate and his mind frighteningly unstable that day. He was so obsessed with finishing his theater project, he might have snapped completely if you’d pushed him.”
Maybe. Whatever Stone’s motives, the man’s half-crazed mental state could have easily gotten Duke and Cora killed. Duke picked up the paper and angled it toward the window to read the article. After Stone’s death, several homeowners came forward to testify they’d been coerced into selling him their property Stone had extorted every one of them. The article went on to say that Stone’s brother was making amends by negotiating handsome contracts on the properties and giving the money to the homeowners. And while Faith’s father brought most of Stone’s corrupt deeds to light, incurring several tough questions from authorities about his part in Stone’s scheme, there was no mention of Faith’s mother or the brothel, thank God. And an audit and investigation cleared Cuvier of any wrongdoing.
Justice was served. Duke laid the paper aside, feeling proud of Cuvier. “Well done.”
“And well deserved.” Cuvier reached inside his suit coat and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve taken care of the papers you asked for.”
Duke accepted the envelope, knowing what it contained, and that they had both said all there was to say on the subject. “Care to take a walk?” he asked, wincing as he pushed to his feet.
Cuvier stood. “I could use the air.”
“Then sneak me out, because it’s the only way Faith is going to let me leave the house.”
His father-in-law was a good sport and distracted Faith while Duke slipped outside. They walked to the livery together, and found Evelyn outside talking with Anna and Dahlia.
The women greeted them with smiles, but Dahlia broke away to speak to them. “I vowed if you ever crossed my path again,” she said to Cuvier, “I’d cut your heart out for hurting Rose. But I understand the situation now, and can only thank you for exposing Stone as a corrupt scoundrel.”
Cuvier’s lips twitched. “Hello, Dahlia.”
A softer, friendlier look stole into her eyes. “Where have you been living these past thirteen years?”
“I haven’t been living.”
“Then Rose didn’t suffer alone.” With that she walked away and took up her conversation with Evelyn and Anna.
Cuvier chuckled and lit a cheroot. “I see why Rose loved those women.”
Duke nodded. “They have a way of growing on a person.”
“Go in and see your brother. I’m going to smoke and watch the horses for a bit.”
He left Cuvier to his thoughts and entered the livery. Pitchfork in hand, Radford was cleaning a stall, whisking the soiled straw into a nearby wheelbarrow. He arched his eyebrow at Duke.
“I’m surprised Faith let you out of the house.”
“She didn’t. I tunneled through the parlor wall.”
Radford laughed and scraped up another forkful of straw. “Kyle and Boyd were cooking up a plan to break you out. They’ll be glad to know they don’t have to cross Faith.”
“I don’t blame them. I’m hoping her father can sneak me back inside.”
“By the looks of you, I’d put my money on Faith.”
“Me too. That’s why I’m laying low.” Duke rested his arms on the pine boards of the stall, glad for the support, but irritated he needed it. He hated being so weak.
