Page 113 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
“This isn’t over between us.”
But it was. He had to see that. He headed for the door.
“Avendale, one more favor.”
He stopped, turned, and her heart nearly broke at the look of stoicism on his face.
“Please don’t attend my trial,” she said quietly.
He gave a brusque nod before walking out of the room. With his leaving, she felt herself wither, felt the tears she’d been holding at bay pushing to be set free. But if she began to weep now for all that she’d lost, she feared she’d never stop.
He’d never know how much he’d given her, never know that she loved him more than life itself. Never know what it had cost her to lie through her teeth and send him away.
There wasn’t going to be a bloody trial. If it took every last farthing he possessed, every favor owed, his soul sold to the devil.
Avendale walked out of that tiny room and into the hallway at Scotland Yard. She’d looked so brave, so stoic, so alone. As though she’d given up on him, given up on them. He should leave her to rot in prison. But he couldn’t because she’d come to mean everything to him. He knew her, understood her. Knew she had spouted lies in an attempt to protect him. It was what she did.
She knew how scandalous it would be for him to have a swindling female at his side.
“What now?” Swindler asked.
Avendale turned to face him. “I intend to find them all. I could use your help.”
Swindler gave a brusque nod. “I’ll do what I can.”
“I know where to begin.”
Avendale suspected that Swindler did as well, but as he had other pressing matters to see to as a result of his position with Scotland Yard, Avendale carried on without him. The three who gathered within Rose’s parlor were shocked, but not the least bit surprised when he announced that she’d been arrested. They were, however, understandably distressed.
“She was taking too many chances,” Merrick stated as he paced before the empty hearth. “I tried to warn her, but she’s a stubborn one, won’t listen.”
“There’s nothing to be gained in placing blame,” Sally said, swinging her gaze to Avendale. She’d offered tea, which he’d declined. She now sat in a chair, her feet not touching the floor. She should have looked like a child. Instead she appeared to be a lioness, determined to find a way to protect her cub. “At least now we know she wasn’t running from you but from Tinsdale, the little weasel.”
Silent as a grave, Joseph sat in a nearby chair, his knees nearly touching his chest.
“I told her he was about,” Merrick said. “She should have been looking for him.”
“She knew?” Avendale asked.
Merrick nodded. “That first night we ate dinner at your fancy house. We weren’t there to check on Harry but to let her know that we’d spied Tinsdale.”
“We did want to see Harry as well, though,” Sally said, but Avendale was still processing Merrick’s revelation.
“Are the whole lot of you swindlers?” he asked.
“Liars, more like,” Merrick said. “When the need arises, I suspect you lie, too.”
“We’re not discussing me,” Avendale ground out.
“But we should,” Sally said. “You’re a duke. Get Rose out of there.”
“While it might seem otherwise, I’m not immune to the law,” he admitted.
“Then what good are you?” Merrick asked.
“Merrick!” Sally scolded. “Don’t take that attitude. He’s done plenty for us, but his hands are tied—”
“I didn’t say that,” Avendale said.
