Page 28 of The Duke’s Hidden Runaway Bride

He hated that stillness now. He hated every person and circumstance that had taught her to retreat from danger without moving. But he did not cross the hall and take the choice from her.

“Will you come to the library?”

Ophelia rose.

Lady Elise watched them leave but said nothing. Miss Pettibone clutched the linen to her chest and said something sentimental about a declaration.

In the library Adrian closed the door and gave Ophelia his mother’s letter.

“There is a passage marked on the third page.”

She unfolded it. He watched her read, saw her reach Markham’s name, and saw the colour retreat from her face.

“My father,” she said. “Just as Mr. Vaughan related.”

“Yes. I cannot tell from my mother’s account how strong the claim is, only that Markham means to pursue it and believes the threat itself will do damage.”

Ophelia read the passage again.

“He will not stop.”

“No.”

“If my father’s credit fails, the business could go with it. There will be cargoes pledged, loans against ships, contracts dependent upon delivery. Men who trust him today may demand payment tomorrow merely because they have heard there is a suit.”

Adrian heard the counting-house voice return. Beneath it, he heard fear.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Only the beginning of one, but I think it a viable plan.”

Her eyes lifted to his.

“Markham has debts, which he expected to be settled on his marriage. A great many debts, which are now overdue. I began a letter to my man of business asking him to discover who holds them.”

“You began it?”

“I did not send it.”

“Why?”

“Because it is your father’s business, your name, and your danger. I will not set anything in motion without your knowledge.”

Ophelia stared down at his mother’s letter.

“If we wait too long, Markham may move before us,” she said. “May have already moved. My father’s credit may already be suffering for it.”

“I know.”

“And if your inquiries are noticed, he may take fright.”

“Yes.”

“You would need go-betweens. Men with no visible connection to you.”

Something eased in Adrian’s chest, wary, that he didn’t dare call hope.

“I had thought so,” he agreed.

Ophelia folded the letter along its existing creases, a small furrow appearing between her brows as she considered.