“It does not please me. I am keeping it. I find myself rather fond of the thing.”
She could not be certain if he wanted to keep the seed pouch to vex her, or if he truly meant to use it for some purpose. “Keep it then. I shall make Charles another.”
“And will you tell him you are aiding me in the quest to clear all suspicion from my name?” He raised a brow.
“I will be honest with him. If he asks, I shall answer.”
“And if he does not, you shall remain silent,” Strathmore guessed correctly.
Drat him.
“What I choose to tell my betrothed is none of your concern.” She moved away from him, trying to escape his masculine scent and the disturbing way his nearness affected her. “Now that we have established those particular boundaries, it is time we discuss the reason I am here.”
“Ah yes, the evidence of my treasonous villainy.” Bitterness laced his voice, and she suspected he made no effort to hide it.
“You do not seem like a traitor to me,” she observed. “What evidence has my brother found against you?”
Lucien had been deliberately vague about the reason for the Duke of Strathmore’s sudden residence at Lark House. He had merely said Strathmore was under investigation for treasonous behavior, that armed guards would be posted at all doors leading outside in an abundance of caution, and that Violet was to have no interaction with the duke.
“I am surprised Arden has not shouted it from the rooftops so all London can hear,” drawled Strathmore. “He discovered correspondence purportedly between myself and John Mahoney in my study. This unearthing occurred after my home had been broken into by an intruder. If I had caught the swine myself, I would have killed him, and I would not find myself in my current predicament.”
John Mahoney had been a dangerous Fenian ringleader who had recently met his end. According toThe Times, he had been in possession of all manner of trappings for disguising himself, a number of armaments, and descriptions of plots to lay bombs all over London. The mere mentioning of the man’s name was enough to instill fear and anxiety in the hearts of anyone. If Strathmore had indeed colluded with such an evil man, it would be damning.
But Violet found herself inclined to believe in Strathmore’s innocence, and not just because of her undeniable attraction to him, but because there was something about him that seemed genuine. She was drawn to him, and she could not deny it regardless of how much she wanted to. He possessed wit and wisdom and charm—smug charm, it was true, but charm nonetheless.
“Does Lucien know someone was in your home?” Violet asked, her mind quickly spinning the facts he had presented. She was relieved for some distraction, for one thing, but she was also genuinely intrigued by the mystery before her.
The opportunity to spend more time gazing upon Strathmore’s mouth does not hurt, Wicked Violet reminded her.
“Of course he does. I told him as much the moment he turned up the forged documents, but he does not believe me. He thinks I ransacked my study myself just before his men arrived.”
Strathmore had wandered nearer to her now, for his scent had once more invaded her senses. He emanated raw, virile heat, and she felt that too, permeating the shield of indifference she had attempted to wrap herself in.
Who was she fooling?
The shield would not function. No woman could be indifferent to the Duke of Strathmore.
She forced herself to consider what he had revealed to her. “He supposes you have an accomplice then, within the League? A man who was able to warn you of the imminent arrival of my brother’s men?”
The duke nodded. “Either an accomplice or a friend.”
Violet did not follow Lucien’s logic and reasoning.
“But if you had time to tear apart your study, would you not have also had time to destroy the damning evidence instead? And would that not have been more efficient?”
“I suggested as much myself.” Strathmore raked his fingers through his dark hair, leaving the strands ruffled. “I may have been unable to hold my tongue, and I may have also said some regrettable things to Arden. Suffice it to say, my words were not well-received, and given the evidence against me, here I stand.”
“Regrettable things?” Her interest was piqued. “Such as?”
His lips thinned. “They are not fit for the ears of a lady.”
She blinked. “That only makes me wish to know more. Now you simply must tell me.”
He sighed. “I may have called him a Judas who would undermine the ranks of an indomitable organization by refusing to listen to reason. I also may have mentioned his coveting of the League from our former leader Carlisle was akin to cuckolding, and that the only reason for his ludicrous suspicions of his own men was his small…”
Here he allowed his words to trail off, apparently thinking better of completing them. She loved Lucien, and she knew her loyalties ought to lay firmly with him, but she also knew how overbearing and stubborn her brother could be. In the end, her curious nature got the better of her.
Violet could not help but wonder what he had been about to say. “Small mind?” she guessed.
