One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)(76)

“Claudia.” Spencer addressed the girl without even looking at her. “Leave us.”

“But—”

“I said, leave us. Now.”

His tone was rapier-sharp, and though Amelia understood his reasons for wanting Claudia gone, she hurt for the girl. No one deserved that sort of dismissal, especially not in front of a guest.

“It’s all right, dear,” she whispered, laying a gentle touch atop Claudia’s wrist. “We’ll see you at luncheon.”

Tears gathering in her eyes, Claudia rose from her chair. “No, you won’t.”

As she fled the room, Spencer winced just a little. Amelia filed away a thought for some later date: Give His Grace some lessons on the care and feeding of children. He did well enough with foals, but he was a disaster with young humans. She’d best find a way to work on that, before birthing him a child of his own.

Oh, heavens. The mere thought of carrying his babe inside her … Her heart gave a sweet, sudden kick.

“Now, then.” Spencer braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward over his linked hands. “Let’s settle this. You’ve come here to see how I’m treating Amelia?”

Jack fidgeted in his chair. “Yes.”

“You. The devoted brother who deserted her at a ball without chaperone, transportation, or a coin to her name. Who played high with money he didn’t have, to the detriment of her hopes and prospects. Who failed to appear at her wedding. You … are questioning my treatment of her. Do I understand this?”

Jack blinked.

Spencer turned to her abruptly. “Amelia, how are you being treated? Well enough?”

After a stunned moment, she replied, “Very well.”

“There you have your answer, Jack. The reason for your visit is satisfied. You’ll remain here as my guest tonight, and tomorrow you’ll head back the way you came.”

“Tomorrow?” Amelia blurted out. “Why, he traveled all night by coach just to get here. I’d hoped he could stay for some weeks. He means to ride over to Cambridge and see about resuming his—”

“Tomorrow.” The word was a verdict, not a suggestion. End of discussion. But his gaze trapped hers, and the conversation continued.

Why? she felt herself silently asking. Why are you retreating to this cold, arrogant behavior, after the lovely morning we just shared? If I truly mean something to you, why can’t you extend the slightest consideration to my kin?

There were answers there, in his eyes. But she couldn’t quite make them out.

And then something clattered to the table between them, breaking the silent communication with a sharp, metallic clang.

Amelia’s eyes flew to the object instinctively, and she gasped at what she saw. A small, roundish disc of brass, stamped with a horse’s head.

Leo’s missing token.

“Oh my …” She reached for it in surprise.

Jack clapped a hand over the coin. “I have what you want, Morland. And I know what it’s worth to you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Spencer said.

Enmity sparked between the men, exploding all Amelia’s hopes for a happy, idyllic summer.

“However did you get that token?” she wondered aloud. “There are investigators searching all London for that scrap of brass.”

“Yes, well. The investigators haven’t come asking me.” Jack’s lips quirked in a strange little smile, and a sliver of fear pierced Amelia’s heart. Oh, God. He couldn’t have been involved in Leo’s murder. Not her own brother. No, no, no. It simply couldn’t be.

No.

It simply couldn’t be.

She replayed the events of the evening, slowly filling her lungs with relief. Jack had been with her at the ball all evening. True, he’d departed early, at half-eleven. But Mr. Bellamy and Lord Ashworth had appeared not an hour later, and Leo had already been dead for some time. Jack could not possibly have been involved. Thank God. But the question remained …

“How did you get your hands on that token?”

“It was the damnedest thing,” her brother said, speaking to Spencer. “I’d been passing some time with a—” His gaze flicked toward Amelia. “With an acquaintance, a few days ago. We had cause to exchange a coin or two, and I spied this in her purse. Offered her a guinea for it, and she happily made the exchange.”

Amelia’s stomach turned. This “acquaintance” had to have been the prostitute who found Leo. She knew Jack had been sinking lower and lower … but this exceeded even her worst imaginings.

As usual, Spencer didn’t mince words. “So where’s the whore now? Could you find her again?”

Jack stammered a bit, rising to his feet. “Look, man. Perhaps we could discuss this alone.”

“Why? Amelia’s no simpleton. She already knows you’ve been taking her money and throwing it away on dockside bunters.” Spencer stood, too. “It’s a bit late to spare her the shame, Jack. If you want to try redeeming yourself, start with information. Where did you find this woman? Where did she take you? What does she look like? What did she tell you about the attack, about Leo?”

“Why should I tell you anything? So you can get to her first and hush her up?”

The room went very quiet.

Jack strolled forward. “Julian Bellamy thinks you killed Leo.”