They left Whitmore Hall before midnight.
Marin did not change her gown.
She threw a cloak over the green silk, climbed into Allaric’s carriage, and traveled through darkness toward Westmere.
Rain began halfway there.
Neither spoke much.
Thomas Reed’s father had been found in an abandoned shepherd’s cottage by one of Allaric’s men.
He was alive.
Barely.
A farmer had secretly brought him food for months.
The truth emerged slowly.
Samuel Reed had discovered that Malcolm Gray and Pritchard were stealing from Ravenshade estates.
The scheme was larger than anyone suspected.
Timber contracts.
Rent.
Livestock sales.
Maintenance funds.
Gray altered central records while Pritchard pressured tenants to remain silent.
Samuel copied evidence.
Gray discovered him.
One January evening, two men attacked Samuel on the road.
They believed he was dead.
He survived.
But his injuries were severe.
The farmer who found him feared reporting the matter because Gray controlled tenancy renewals.
For eight months, Samuel remained hidden.
He believed his children had been taken to relatives.
When he discovered otherwise, he attempted to reach Ravenshade House.
He collapsed before succeeding.
Marin entered the cottage just before dawn.
Samuel lay on a narrow bed.
His face looked years older than the thirty-eight years the farmer claimed.
Thomas and Annie were still at Ravenshade House, unaware their father lived.
Allaric stood beside the bed.
“Mr. Reed.”
Samuel opened his eyes.
“Your Grace.”
“Do not attempt to rise.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Samuel’s eyes filled.
“My children.”
“They are safe.”
Samuel began crying.
The sound broke something inside Marin.
She turned away briefly.
Allaric’s voice softened.
“They have food. They have rooms. They have been asking inconvenient questions about my horses.”
Samuel laughed weakly through tears.
“That’s Thomas.”
“You will see them when the doctor permits.”
Samuel nodded.
Then he looked at Marin.
“Who’s she?”
“Miss Ellery.”
Samuel’s expression changed.
“You’re the one asking questions.”
Marin moved closer.
“Yes.”
“People talk.”
“Usually badly.”
He gave another weak laugh.
Then his expression became serious.
“I hid it.”
Allaric leaned forward.
“What?”
“The real ledger.”
“Where?”
“Westmere office.”
“That building has been searched.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Wall.”
“What wall?”
“Behind the old map.”
Allaric and Marin looked at each other.
Within two hours they stood inside the Westmere estate office.
The old map hung beside a cabinet.
Allaric removed it.
Behind it, the plaster appeared ordinary.
Marin ran her fingers along the surface.
One section sounded hollow.
They broke it open.
Inside was a narrow cavity.
And inside the cavity lay a ledger wrapped in oilcloth.
Allaric opened it.
The book contained everything.
Payments.
False expenses.
Names.
Dates.
Amounts.
Signatures.
And one entry Marin did not understand.
Whitmore Investment, quarterly payment.
Her stomach tightened.
“Whitmore?”
Allaric turned pages.
More payments.
Lord Whitmore had received money.
Not huge sums.
But regular ones.
Marin sat heavily.
“Why?”
Allaric’s face went cold.
“Political influence.”
“Explain.”
“Gray needed protection.”
“From whom?”
“Magistrates. Contractors. Local banks.”
“And Whitmore provided it?”
“Possibly.”
“You said you would not accuse him without proof.”
“I still will not.”
“But you believe it.”
“I believe this ledger requires explanation.”
There were more surprises.
A reference to the Ellery estate.
Marin froze.
“What?”
Allaric saw her expression.
She pointed.
Ellery settlement, transferred through H. Whitmore & Company.
Lord Whitmore’s younger brother had once operated an investment partnership.
It was one of the firms Marin’s father had dealt with.
The forged letter suddenly made sense.
Gray did not choose her father’s name randomly.
He had access to old records.
Perhaps Whitmore did too.
They returned to Ravenshade House carrying the ledger.
By afternoon, Thomas and Annie were told their father lived.
The reunion happened in a small sitting room.
Marin stood outside the doorway.
Thomas ran to the bed.
Annie climbed onto it.
Samuel held both children and wept.
Allaric stood beside Marin.
Neither spoke.
Finally Marin whispered, “This was your question.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“The bread.”
She nodded toward the room.
“If you had punished Thomas and sent him away, none of this would have been discovered.”
Allaric’s expression tightened.
“I nearly did.”
“What?”
“The steward recommended the magistrate.”
“And you considered it?”
“For perhaps thirty seconds.”
“That long?”
“I was raised by my father.”
Marin understood.
Allaric continued.
“Then Thomas said his sister was hungry.”
“And something changed.”
“Yes.”
He looked through the doorway.
“My father would have called compassion weakness.”
“Your father was wrong.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked at her.
Marin continued softly.
“You still seem surprised every time kindness produces something useful.”
Allaric gave a faint smile.
“Perhaps I require continued instruction.”
“Expensive instruction.”
“I can afford it.”
Their eyes held.
The moment changed.
Allaric lifted one hand as if he intended to touch her face.
Then footsteps came down the corridor.
Of course.
Mrs. Hensley appeared.
“Your Grace, the magistrate has arrived.”
Allaric closed his eyes briefly.
Marin smiled.
“Saved by law.”
“Interrupted by law.”
The investigation became public.
Malcolm Gray disappeared before he could be arrested.
Pritchard, terrified, began talking.
He admitted helping falsify records.
He admitted intimidating tenants.
He admitted transporting Samuel Reed after the attack.
He insisted Gray had ordered everything.
He also claimed Lord Whitmore knew more than he admitted.
But Pritchard was a thief seeking leniency.
His word alone was not enough.
Then Marin’s father’s account books arrived from Bath.
She spent an entire night comparing them with the forged letter and the newly discovered ledger.
At four in the morning, she found it.
A payment.
Her father had invested six thousand pounds through Whitmore & Company.
The money vanished.
The company later claimed poor investments.
But Samuel’s hidden ledger contained references to transfers from old accounts.
Could Lord Whitmore’s family have profited from the collapse that ruined the Ellery household?
Marin stared at the figures until they blurred.
Allaric found her asleep over the books at sunrise.
He gently placed his coat around her shoulders.
She woke.
“I found something.”
“You need sleep.”
“I found something.”
He sat beside her.
She showed him.
His expression became grim.
“If this is correct…”
“My father may not have lost everything through bad judgment.”
“No.”
“He may have been cheated.”
“Yes.”
Marin felt tears burn her eyes.
For ten years, she had carried shame.
She had believed her father foolish.
She had defended him while still blaming him privately for leaving them ruined.
Now another possibility existed.
Allaric reached for her hand.
She let him take it.
“What if Whitmore did this?”
“Then we prove it.”
“What if we cannot?”
“Then truth remains truth even when law cannot reach it.”
She looked at him.
“Easy for a duke.”
“No.”
His thumb moved across her knuckles.
“Nothing about watching someone escape justice is easy.”
They sat quietly.
Then Marin said, “You should marry someone.”
Allaric’s hand stopped.
“That is an abrupt change of subject.”
“I mean it.”
“Why?”
“Because Ravenshade needs someone who can tolerate you.”
“I had noticed.”
“And Thomas and Annie adore you.”
“That seems unrelated.”
“You pretend not to enjoy it.”
“I do not pretend.”
“You let Annie put flowers in your study.”
“She invaded while I was reading.”
“You kept them.”
“Evidence.”
Marin smiled.
Allaric’s expression softened.
“Marin.”
Something in his voice warned her.
“Yes?”
“Do not recommend another woman to me.”
Her smile faded.
“I was not.”
“Good.”
He stood.
Then stopped.
“Because I have no intention of asking another.”
She stared.
He left before she could reply.
The coward.
Two days later, a letter arrived.
It contained no signature.
Only one sentence.
STOP DIGGING INTO THE ELLERY ACCOUNTS OR THE NEXT CHILD FOUND HUNGRY WILL BE FOUND DEAD.
Marin read it twice.
Then she carried it to Allaric.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
“Where did this come from?”
“Delivered with morning correspondence.”
Allaric rang for security.
Within an hour, gates were watched.
Servants questioned.
Mail traced.
Marin argued that Thomas and Annie should be moved.
Allaric agreed.
Samuel was recovering slowly and traveled with them to a smaller Ravenshade property under guard.
That night Marin could not sleep.
At midnight, she heard movement outside her room.
She opened the door.
Allaric stood there.
“Are you guarding my corridor?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I was walking.”
“At midnight?”
“Yes.”
“With a pistol?”
He looked down at the weapon in his hand.
“England is dangerous after eleven.”
Marin almost laughed.
Instead tears unexpectedly filled her eyes.
Allaric’s expression changed instantly.
“What is it?”
“I am afraid.”
He stepped closer.
“I know.”
“No, you do not.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head.
“I spent years rebuilding a life small enough that no one powerful would notice me. I worked. I kept quiet. I survived.”
“And then?”
“Then you asked a question.”
He almost smiled.
She continued.
“Now children are threatened. My father’s name is involved. A man tried to kill Samuel. Whitmore hates me. Gray is missing.”
Allaric lowered the pistol.
“You may leave tomorrow.”
Her face changed.
“If that is what you want, I will arrange money, protection, a house anywhere in England. You will never need employment again.”
Marin stared.
“You would send me away?”
“If staying places you in danger.”
“That was not my question.”
He became silent.
“What do you want?”
His control finally cracked.
“You.”
The word hung between them.
Marin forgot to breathe.
Allaric stepped closer.
“I have wanted you since you asked why Thomas stole the bread.”
“That is not romantic.”
“It is true.”
“Try again.”
A faint smile appeared.
“I want you at breakfast arguing with me.”
“Terrible proposal.”
“I have not proposed.”
“Good.”
“I want you walking into my study without knocking.”
“I knock.”
“You open the door while knocking. That is not the same.”
She laughed through tears.
“I want your notebooks on my desk. I want you telling me when I am wrong. I want you laughing in rooms that have been silent for years.”
His voice lowered.
“And when I imagine you leaving, Ravenshade becomes a house again instead of a home.”
Marin’s eyes filled completely.
“Allaric…”
“I am not asking tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because you are frightened. Because someone threatened you. Because asking now would make safety sound like part of the bargain.”
He stepped back.
“When I ask, you must be free to refuse.”
Marin looked at him for a long moment.
Then she reached up and kissed him.
Only once.
Briefly.
When she stepped back, the feared Duke of Ravenshade looked more shocked than any of the thirty women he had rejected.
Marin smiled.
“That was not an answer.”
His voice was rough.
“No?”
“No.”
She closed her door.
And for the first time since the threatening letter arrived, she slept.