“Nothing much but ways to win a war, a long war with many battles.” The duke stretched his hand to hers.
When she grasped it, he again turned to Felton. “I repeat. Two, do what it takes to maintain contact. Push for contact. Be in the target’s sphere.”
The duke was talking about Felton’s missing-not-missing wife. As much as he wanted to be with Cecilia, how could they be together if the woman kept running?
“Three, don’t complicate things for any reason. Make peace with Tramel. He might be helpful. And remember, surrender is sweeter, but only if you’ve won.”
Felton rubbed at his neck. Peace with Tramel. Impossible.
The duchess squinted. “Your Grace, are you telling him how to pursue his missing wife or a new one? You’re going to get him in trouble.”
“No trouble, my dear,” the duke said, smiling at his wife. “Just a chat amongst soldiers. And, of course, advice about Tramel.”
Pounding of steps sounded in the hall. Too heavy for the children’s footfall, Felton braced and lifted his eyes to the man in the silver livery at the door.
The fellow bowed to the duke but stepped to Felton.
“Lord Gantry, your father, the Duke of Tramel, has sent me to ask your return.”
Great, mentioning the man created a summons. Clutching the painting, Felton closed his arms about it. “Tell him I’m busy. It is impossible to comply.”
The young fellow looked nervous with wide-stretched eyes. “His lordship is ill. Your father hasn’t much time.” The fellow bowed then backed away.
The duke and duchess of Repington stared at Felton—one with a sympathetic look, the duke’s a solemn face reminding of duty and honor.
“Gantry,” the duke finally said, “you remember how your grandfather died alone. You said it was such a tragedy.” He pounded the chair. “I’ll track the concerns we spoke of and make sure the soldier’s wife is protected in his absence. That will ease your mind.”
Rubbing her belly, Patience’s gaze swiveled between them, “Is this woman a widow?”
“No, Your Grace,” Felton said, “do not fret. The duke and I have all well in hand.”
“Then with your sister away, shall we keep the girls?” The duchess clapped her hands. “Perhaps the Ashbrooks’ little girl will stay too. We will be a merry party.”
“Patience, we’re being invaded by all these little ones, I see. I’ll have to come up with a schedule for them.”
She put her head on his shoulder. “But you’re so good with little soldiers.”
“That I am, my love.” The duke chuckled. “All is well. Go, Gantry.”
“No, if this is the end, the girls should say goodbye to their grandfather.”
“Traveling with children might slow you down.”
Yes. Yes, it would. Perhaps arriving at the last minute would make the devil admit the truth. “All will be well. Excuse me, Your Graces.”
When he closed the door, he heard the duke admitting they’d found her sister.
Felton smacked his forehead. It was probably too great a secret to keep.
With the painting tucked under his arm, he headed to the patio to collect his daughters. His thoughts remained scattered and shattered and sad. When a man cared for a woman as deeply as Felton, he’d do anything, absolutely anything to have his love returned, even make a deal with the devil.
Lucky for Felton, Satan had summoned.
CHAPTER25
CECILIA—A TERSE, NOGROVELLETTER
Noah’s tears made me stir from the sofa. I’d only just begun to rest my eyes when his voice rattled then wailed. The noise stunned me.
