Temple smiled blandly. “I like you, my lady.”
Certainly not an answer.
“Is everything ready then?”
Temple redirected his attention to Connor’s question. “In the works, though it won’t be as simple a matter as I anticipated. Rutledge is in a state. He has a dozen men searching the grounds, and none too kindly. He’s convinced Lady Phillipa is here and is infuriated by their lack of results.”
“Granger maun have been his man after all.”
“No. You didn’t come back last night or I would have told you. It was Aylesbury who hired Granger.”
The news gave him pause.
“What?” Piper echoed his shock. “Aylesbury hired a man to threaten his sister?”
Temple shook his head. “To find, not threaten. Granger admitted that he overstepped his assignment.” He glanced at Piper with a wink. “Nice work on that nose, by the by. It will vex him for months. Anyway, seems Aylesbury spotted his sister in town in June and hired Granger to stay in the village for as long as it took to find her. When that hadn’t provided any results, he got the marquis’s permission to approach Miss Langston only to be expelled from her doorstep several times. He regrets that months of frustration led him to frighten the ladies, but he was anxious to return to London.”
“If Granger wisnae the duke’s man, how can Rutledge be convinced Piper is here?” Connor wondered.
Temple shrugged with visible annoyance. “I’m still attempting to determine the source.”
Connor shook his head. “It willnae matter when he’s dead.”
“He’s serious.” Piper must have sensed an ally in Temple. “He means to kill the duke.”
“Whoa.” Temple caught his arm. “As much as you would like to—as we wouldalllike to—you cannot kill the duke.”
Piper’s appeal echoed in Connor’s ears. To his mind, the duke deserved to pay for his crimes. Because of his actions, she’d lost much. Regardless of her claims, he refused to believe she didn’t want revenge upon Rutledge. To see him suffer as she had suffered. It would take more than a prison cell or a few years in isolation to balance the scales.
“Why no’?”
“First of all, you cannot confront the duke with pistols—or fists, as it were—drawn. You’ll confirm what he merely suspects.” Temple crossed his arms over his chest with an imposing scowl. “Second, he is a duke of the realm. He might be deserving of it, still, we are civilized men living at the dawn of a new century. There is no place in Britain for swords at dawn any longer.”
“I’m no’ feeling terribly civilized, I’m afraid,” Connor ground out. “And I dinnae plan to politely call him out.”
“I feared as much, you being a MacKintosh and all. I’m familiar with the temperament. However, you are not savages. All any of you has ever been in need of is a voice of reason and a moment for logic and rationality to sink in,” Temple told him. “I understand your anger, but you cannot act rashly. Think of Lady Phillipa and what is in her best interests.”
“Aye, I am. A life wi’out Rutledge in it.”
“And what will I do when you’re locked away in prison?” Piper retorted. “Visit you each Tuesday afternoon?”
“Lass.” His jaw worked, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
Piper wrapped her arms around him. Perhaps if she hung on and refused to let him go, he might relent. If she had months. A year. It might work. For all the tenderness in his embrace, a steely resolve held him stiff. He wouldn’t bend. She definitely couldn’t break him. He would avenge her even if it defied her will or the law’s.
With a sigh, she took the ends of the silk tie hanging around his neck. “If you mean to persist in facing him, at least do it with a knot the duke will respect.”
He gave over the duty, bending his head until his lips met her forehead with a troubled sigh. “How did ye learn to tie a double four-in-hand?”
“Sedmouth taught me. He’d make a game of it.”
“He was rumored to be something of an authority on the matter,” he murmured. “A leader in fashion.”
“That was part of what Mother liked about him. If she truly liked anything at all.” With a pat to the completed knot, she returned to his embrace.
“You are an incredibly stubborn man,” she whispered into his neck.
The lips at her temple curved into a smile. “I’m a Scot, and as Temple pointed out, a MacKintosh. I had nae choice in the matter.”
