A Secret Affair

until it was explained to him, and then he apologized and took the chickens back, and they were paid for too, but some stupid judge thought he should be made an example of and sentenced him to hang. Oh, will you go and stop it?”

And where was the controlled, articulate Duchess of Dunbarton just when she was most needed?

The duke’s eyes moved to the earl at the same moment as he surprised Hannah by taking one of her hands in his own and squeezing it.

“Stephen?” he said.

The duchess came back into the room.

“The property Con purchased in Gloucestershire,” the earl said, “was apparently bought at Jonathan’s urging, Elliott, to house unwed mothers and their children. Since it began, it has expanded to include handicapped people—both physically and mentally—and other people who find themselves rejected by society. I gather they are trained to find meaningful work elsewhere. The man in question is mentally handicapped and is inordinately fond of Con by the sound of it. He was responsible for losing some chickens to a fox, so he went and took some other chickens from a neighbor to replace them. It probably seemed logical to him. But he was arrested, and even the return of the chickens and a money payment in addition and an abject apology have been unable to save him from being sentenced to death.”

“Is it possible?” the Duchess of Moreland asked, her eyes wide with shock. “Can a man hang for something so trivial?”

“The law is not often applied as strictly as it might be,” the duke said. “But sometimes it is, and the judge is quite within his rights.”

Why were they all wasting time talking?

Hannah dragged the dregs of her dignity about her and wished she were not so tired or her mind so addled.

“Constantine loves those people,” she said. “He has devoted much of his adult life to them. If this man should be hanged, he would surely be destroyed. He would find a way of blaming himself. I know he would. Though I am sure he would tell you that he does not matter at the moment but only this poor condemned man. You have a quarrel with Constantine, Duke, and he with you. But quarrels are petty things at such a time. A man’s life is at stake. Your influence can save him. I am convinced it can. I know my duke’s influence would have saved him, and in many ways you remind me of him. You have a presence, as he had. Will you please, please go to Ainsley Park?”

He looked steadily at her.

“I cannot make or change the law of the land, ma’am,” he said.

“But the sentence for such a crime is discretionary,” she said. “You said so yourself a few moments ago in so many words. The sentence could change. He does not have to die for taking a few chickens, especially when he did not even fully realize that he was stealing.”

“I would imagine any judge’s argument might be,” he said, “that a man who can steal without even realizing it is a dangerous man who is very likely to reoffend, perhaps even to hurt someone in the process.”

“He did it because he loves Constantine,” she said, “because he could not bear to disappoint him over the incident with the fox. Can you tell me he deserves to die?”

“I am quite sure he does not, ma’am,” he said. “But—”

“Will you not go for Constantine’s sake?” she asked him. “He is your cousin. He was your friend until, as he put it, you behaved like a pompous ass and he behaved like a stubborn mule.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I should be thankful,” he said, “that he paints himself in as unflattering a light as he paints me.”

“Elliott,” his wife said, coming across the room to lay a hand on his arm, “you must go. You know you must. If you do not, then I will, and you know very well that if I go I will have to take Richard with me so that he does not starve to death, poor baby, and Belle and Sam will need to come too so that they will not feel abandoned by their own mother. Besides, my influence would be of no more account than the Duchess of Dunbarton’s. Less, indeed. She has a far more forceful character than I have.”

“My love,” the duke said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, “you are being absurd. But you have made your point. Con needs me at last, and I will go to him. Doubtless he will punch me in the nose for my pains and we will end up looking even more alike.”

“I’ll go with you, Elliott,” the Earl of Merton said.

Hannah looked at him in surprise.

“Cass insisted even before I had a chance to ask if she would mind terribly much if I went,” he explained.

Hannah jumped to her feet as a footman stepped into the room bearing a large tray.

Oh, please let them not all sit down now to breakfast.

“I’ll go home directly,” the earl said, “and pack a bag.”

“I’ll come for you in one hour’s time,” the duke told him.

And they both left the room.

“Food is probably the very last thing in the world you feel like,” the Duchess of Moreland said. “But have some toast anyway. I am going to have some. I had scarcely sat down for breakfast when you arrived.”

She was pouring two cups of coffee as she spoke.

“I am so sorry,” Hannah said, “to cause all this trouble.”

“I am unaware that you have caused it,” the duchess said, setting a cup and saucer down beside Hannah and going back to the tray to fetch a plate upon which she had set one slice of buttered toast, cut down the middle. “Do you love Constantine?”

“I—” Hannah began.

“That was an ill-mannered question,” the duchess said with a smile. “Let me rephrase it as a statement. You love Constantine. I have seen it coming all Season. I have even felt a little sorry for you.”

Hannah stared at her as she bit into her toast.

“I love him,” she admitted at last. “I am sorry you do not. He said he did something to hurt you soon after he got to know you.”

“He did,” the duchess said. “And it was pretty nasty. It was meant to embarrass Elliott and humiliated me instead. It was really very childish, but men can be childish sometimes. Oh, and women too, I suppose. I refused to accept his apology. I judged him unforgivable, and I have lived with the guilt of that ever since. But by the time he apologized, I believed him guilty of far worse than the mischief in which I had been caught up. Elliott has been wrong about that, has he?”

“Yes,” Hannah said. “But only because Constantine was too proud and too stubborn to explain.”

“Men rarely take the easy way out,” the duchess said. “Though sometimes they do when they raise their fists and go at each other’s noses and eyes instead of talking like civilized beings. I sometimes think the power of speech was wasted on men. Oh, dear, I do not always have such a low opinion of them, I promise you. May I refill your coffee cup?”

It was empty, Hannah realized. She could taste coffee, though she had no memory of drinking it.

“No,” she said, getting to her feet. “Thank you, but I must go. I have other urgent business this morning, and I must not hold you back from being with your husband for a short while before he leaves. Oh, how I wish I could go with him and the Earl of Merton. But I would merely delay them.”

“Yes.” The duchess smiled. “And it would not be at all the thing, even for the Duchess of Dunbarton. Elliott can be very autocratic when he chooses to be, Duchess. He will not easily take no for an answer in Gloucestershire. Neither will Stephen. He is sometimes mistaken for a meek, even perhaps a weak man because he is so amiable and looks so much like an angel, but he can be an avenging angel when he chooses to be. He will do it for Constantine’s sake.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said.

The duchess walked to the door with her and then realized that her brother had taken the carriage. But Hannah would not allow her to call out another conveyance.