“I would advise against it, Your Grace,” he said evenly. “I fought for our great country against the French. I am skilled with a blade and a crack shot.”
Julian could see it in his eyes. Despite the provocation of being manhandled in public, Napier's eyes were hard, and his expression unruffled. This was a man accustomed to violence and unafraid of death.
“And I was raised never to use my hands as weapons,” Julian ground out, tightening his grip on Napier’s coat. His voice was low,dangerous. “You can imagine the skill I have acquired with the sword and gun instead. Care to put it to the test, good sir?”
Napier’s lips quirked in the slightest hint of a smile, but before the moment could escalate further, Ester’s voice cut through the tension, “What is it you truly want, Mr. Napier? Shall we discuss it in private? Just the three of us?”
“That is quite enough from you, Mr. Napier!” Lady Janet finally broke her silence in reproach. “And, Your Grace, I must say the same to you, I'm afraid.”
“Mother!” Ester exclaimed.
“I will have my say in my own house, child,” Lady Janet declared firmly, her posture as rigid as stone. “Now, for the allegations, I must discuss this with your father in private...”
“He is hardly in a condition to hear such wild accusations,” Ester countered, her voice tight. “Not that there is any truth to them.”
“Then there can be no harm in apprising him of the allegations that have been made against His Grace,” Lady Janet stood, impermeable as alabaster.
“Mother, please,” Ester implored.
Julian could see the fear in Ester's eyes now, and for the first time, realized what it was she was actually afraid of. He released his hold on Napier who stepped out of arm's reach, straightening his coat. A knock came at the door and it opened upon a curt acknowledgement from Julian.
Lady Janet spared him a frosty look. “Might I be allowed to issue the orders in my own house, Your Grace?”
Julian bowed his head to hide the chagrin on his face. He was angry at the interfering, mud-raking journalist, and at Lady Janet's knee-jerk reaction to it. It was the leap to judgment that had led to him rejecting society for so long—it was not just the curse that had kept him a hermit. He held his tongue as Harper entered, carrying a tray on which there was a decanter of brandy and two filled glasses.
“Ah! The very thing after all of this excitement!” Napier crowed and made for Harper.
As he reached for the first glass, Harper deftly turned the tray away from him, before catching a steely look from his master. Grimacing, he presented the tray back to the man. Napier frowned for a moment and then took the glass and tossed back a measure of brandy.
After an uncouth smack of the tongue, he added, “Excellent cellars you keep here, Lady Janet! My compliments to your husband.”
With head raised and a perfunctory summons to her youngest daughter, Lady Janet left the room. Helen looked to Ester imploringly.
“You'd better go,” Ester whispered.
Scowling, Helen left the room after her mother. Julian stared at Napier who stood swirling his remaining brandy insouciantly.
“Perhaps we may now discuss what it is you want from us, Mr. Napier?” Ester began.
Julian admired her self-control. Her face was a mask of civilized discipline. It somehow enhanced her beauty, making him feel a primitive brute for his earlier outburst. In that moment he felt a surge of love and pride for her. How much she had endured, including assault, humiliation, blackmail and imprisonment. Shame accompanied his recollection of that. He had inflicted that upon her because of his belief in the curse. The fictitious curse that was no less damaging for its mythical status.
“How much for your silence?” Julian cut to the chase.
Napier pressed a hand dramatically to his chest, exaggerating offense. “This is no crude attempt at blackmail, Your Grace!” he stated, sounding nearly hurt. “I have been very forthcoming about my objectives. I simply wish to tell your story, and I hope for your cooperation.”
“So that you and your scandal sheet may profit from my tribulations?” Julian retorted.
“Anduncover the truth. The true story of your family,” Napier replied, a sly glimmer in his eye.
“And if we decline?” Ester asked.
Napier’s smile remained. “Then I will tell your story without the truth as you see it. I will tell it based on what I have gathered from the gossip, the legends, and the second- or third-hand accounts. It shall all make for a compelling tale—of that, I assure you.”
“More compelling than the truth?” Julian muttered. “That an innocent boy was the victim of an old man's madness?”
He clamped his mouth shut at the look of sudden interest in Napier's eyes. In his anger, he had said too much—given away too much. Napier knew there was a story here and would not stop digging until he had exhumed it in its entirety. Like a terrier searching out ferrets.
“His Grace has always lived a private life and wishes it to remain private. Surely that is his prerogative,” Ester said, stepping in swiftly to contain the damage.
