Yates frowned. “You have my full attention, though I hope it is nothing too serious.”
Henry drew a deep breath. “I’ve just called Tremaine out.”
Yates’s eyebrows lifted. “That is...” He stared at Henry. “Are you sure that is wise?”
“It is necessary.”
“Will you tell me what he did?”
“He insulted the Duchess of Tremaine in the most despicable way.”
Yates quietly nodded. “You fight to protect her honor.”
Henry nodded. “She has become a close friend. I cannot let Robert speak ill of her.”
“And if he apologizes?”
“He won’t, but even if he did, I would not accept.”
“Very well then,” Yates said. “Just give me the hour and the location and I will be there to offer support.”
“I appreciate that.”
Henry shook his hand to confirm the deal before going in search of Viola. She would not understand or accept his decision. If anything, she would try to stop him, which meant that as far as this matter was concerned, she would have to be kept in the dark. And that meant he could not depart the party in haste or it would raise suspicion. He would stay until it was over, then stop by his club to update his will. He didn’t expect to die tomorrow, but one had to prepare for the worst when meeting an adversary on the field of honor.
It was almost midnight by the time Viola arrived home. She let herself in quietly so as not to wake Diana or Harriet. Crossing to the small table in the foyer where an oil lamp had been left to provide a faint glow of light, she saw that a letter awaited.
Removing her gloves, she went to collect her spectacles from her study. Perching them on the bridge of her nose, she tore open the seal and read the letter with an increasing mixture of pure annoyance and dread.
Dear Viola,
I have been asked to attend an unexpected event tomorrow morning at Hackney Meadows. From what I gather, the preservation of your reputation is at stake, though I know little else. Mr. Lowell was rather vague when he asked for my assistance, but I do believe the location and the need for a physician says it all.
Please know that I am betraying his trust by telling you this, but as you are my employer and friend, my loyalty in this particular instance is with you.
Your humble servant,
Mr. Tyler Haines
Clutching the letter so hard her nails drove into the palms of her hands, Viola stood as if frozen while trying to calm her nerves. It was a duel. It had to be, considering the part about preserving her reputation. And with Henry involved, she knew it had to be between him and Robert. He’d called Robert out without telling her!
To be sure, she read the letter again. There could be no misunderstanding. A duel was clearly in the making, and with rash-tempered men involved, she knew the only chance of stopping it was if she interfered. So she hurried back out to the foyer, snatched up her gloves and reticule, and exited her house. In the street, she hailed a hackney and directed it toward The Red Rose, hoping to God that Henry would be there, because calling on him at his home at this hour was out of the question.
She arrived at her destination ten minutes later, paid the driver and entered the club.
“Your Grace! What a wonderful surprise!”
She immediately recognized Henry’s steward, Mr. Faulkner, and attempted a smile. It felt tight. “I came to see Mr. Lowell. Is he here by any chance?” she asked, getting straight to the point.
“He is in his office. I’ll let him know you wish to see him.” He departed down a corridor and was back again moments later. “Please come with me,” he said, gesturing for her to follow.
She did, her gown swooshing around her feet as she walked. The door to Henry’s office was opened by Mr. Faulkner, and Viola stepped in, her gaze landing on the man who made her heart race with wild abandon and her knees feel like wobbly jelly. The edge of his mouth lifted as he took her in, his eyes fixed on her person as if he could see every inch of the skin that lay hidden beneath her silk dress.
“That will be all, Mr. Faulkner,” Henry murmured. He stood, not looking away from Viola for even one second.
“Very well.”
She heard Mr. Faulkner’s departing footsteps, and although her brain was telling her to move to the nearest chair, she remained where she was, utterly frozen. Because the force of Henry’s gaze on her sent fiery embers racing along every limb. To her dismay, they instilled in her a sudden need to be touched.
