Mrs. Murthy’s gaze held a shadow of sorrow. “She’s afraid to tell him. Afraid he’ll see it as a betrayal, that she tricked him. But she willnae marry him without being honest.”
The room grew quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire. Duncan nodded slowly, his respect for Miss Hayward deepening. “Aye, the lass told him all. And brave she was. It’s not easy to admit such a downfall. We must do something. We cannae let her be trapped in a loveless marriage.”
“Aye, not when the lass loves Glenraven,” Mrs. Murthy agreed. “She was mooning over him for weeks until he came calling. We’ll need to be clever about it. A bit of Scottish cunning might just turn the tide.”
“Mrs. Murthy, get us paper and pen. We need to send Glenraven an anonymous message about what is happening, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he deduces the source.”
Mrs. Murthy nodded at Duncan’s request, her movements swift as she gathered the necessary materials. “We must be cautious with our words,” she said, dipping the quill into the inkwell. “The message must be clear yet discreet.”
Duncan leaned over her shoulder, reading as the letter began to take shape on the paper. “Start with ‘A matter of urgency has arisen,’” he suggested, his voice low.
Mrs. Murthy’s hand moved across the page, the words flowing smoothly. “And mention ‘a suitor with intentions not of the heart,’” she added, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Duncan read over the line, his lips pursed. “Perhaps we should say ‘intentions that are more monetary than affectionate,’” he corrected, seeking precision in their message.
“Good,” Mrs. Murthy agreed, scratching out the previous words and replacing them with Duncan’s suggestion. “Now, weneed to hint at the pressure she’s under without revealing too much.”
“‘The lady finds herself in a delicate situation, one that may lead to an unwanted union,’” Duncan offered, his eyes fixed on the letter.
Mrs. Murthy wrote it down, then paused, considering. “Let’s add ‘Her heart belongs to another, whose declaration has already been made,’” she said, a hint of urgency in her voice.
Duncan nodded, satisfied with the addition. “End it with ‘Time is of the essence, and discretion is paramount,’” he said, knowing the power those words carried.
Mrs. Murthy finished the letter with a flourish, setting the quill aside. They both reviewed the message, their heads close together, the tension of their task hanging in the air.
“A matter of urgency has arisen. A suitor with intentions that are more financial than affectionate threatens to bind a lady in a delicate situation, one that may lead to an unwanted union. Her heart belongs to another whose declaration has already been made. Time is of the essence, and discretion is paramount.”
“Perfect,” Mrs. Murthy whispered, her eyes meeting Duncan’s.
“Seal it if you will, Mrs. Murthy. I will see that Glenraven reads it. He will understand that this letter, left unsigned and sealed, is a silent plea for action, a call for him to step forward before it is too late.
“One last glass before I leave.” With the letter safely tucked in his pocket and Mrs. Murthy clearing away any signs of their secret plot, Duncan poured them each a glass of punch.
He raised his glass, the amber liquid catching the light as he nodded to Mrs. Murthy. “To clever plots and honest hearts,” he declared, his Scottish brogue coloring the words.
Chapter Sixteen
April 20, 1820
Late morning foundGlenraven in his study, the light filtering through the windows catching the letter on the salver on his desk. He read it carefully, recognizing the handiwork. He couldn’t help but smile. “Duncan,” he murmured, appreciating the man’s forthrightness and meddling. The letter confirmed his intentions. He would ask for Juliet’s hand and celebrate their union with a gala to announce their engagement.
Before he could muse further, Duncan and Hughes came through the door. The solicitor entered with the air of a man bearing a heavy responsibility. “A threat has been made,” Hughes announced and handed Ewan the note.
Ewan’s mind raced as he turned the letter over in his hands. The words in the spidery scrawl warned him.
“Marquess, the misfortune that fell upon your father now looms over those you cherish. Their well-being hangs in the balance, much like he did. Consider this a caution: the legacy of Glenraven is not immune to being reduced to mere echoes and dust. The consequences will be unbareable if you do not heed this warning.”
Sebastian’s face flashed before him—the easy smile, the casual toss of the cards the night before. It would be easy to cast him as the villain. Yet, Ewan’s thoughts drifted to Whitby,lurking in the shadows, his eyes darting greedily toward the pile of coins. And there was always the mysterious Gray, whose fortunes had turned as dark as his name suggested. No, it wasn’t just Sebastian who left the table with his pockets less than he desired.
“With your birthday on the horizon, less than a fortnight away,” Duncan added, “One can’t help but wonder if this isn’t a ploy to keep you from the altar.”
Ewan paced the room, his mind in an uproar. “Marriage? Now?” His temper flared. The idea that had warmed him moments ago seemed more absurd by the second. “With this shadow upon my house?” He shook the paper at Hughes and Duncan.
“It seems the law cares a great deal about timing but not for threats.” Hughes reminded him. “Your title, your estate—it all depends upon you marrying.”
Ewan reconsidered his plans as the reality of his predicament sank in. He handed Hughes the letter regarding Juliet, his confession of love for her a whisper in the quiet room. “I can’t put Juliet in danger, Hughes. I won’t.”
“This marriage could be the perfect answer. It secures your title. Marrying Miss Hayward gives her the protection she requires.”
