Free The Wicked Duke by Madeline Hunter Page B

innocence would do Lance no good.
    â€œWhy your niece?”
    â€œYou find her at least moderately appealing, if you called. And my daughter . . .” He looked down at his glass. “My daughter is not suitable due to her illness.”
    Lance stood. Hands in pockets lest he succumb to his urge to punch Sir Horace, he paced away.
    He did not need to ask why Sir Horace wanted this marriage. Any relationship to a duke brought advantages. It nearly always could be exploited for financial gain. Sir Horace’s ability to get close to a man of influence would bring him influence in turn. Others would curry his favor, and offer him partnerships.
    Most likely in the years ahead, if this marriage happened, Sir Horace would be sitting here many times, demanding some favor or another that would ultimately enrich him and his new friends.
    â€œI will add some honey to the pot,” Sir Horace said. “I have considerable influence with the coroner. Not only will you not swing if you agree to my plan, but I will also see that you are exonerated. At least officially. He will change his determination from unknown causes, to natural causes.”
    Lance would have liked to dismiss this new offer, but it pulled at his soul. The suspicions about him had made time stand still. With such a sword hanging over a man’s head, he could never be truly free.
    As for the “at least officially”—there would always be some talk of it, but without the official exoneration of this crime, the common references to it would never cease, no matter how virtuous a life he may lead.
    â€œYou are assuming the lady will have me.”
    â€œWhat woman would not?”
    A willful woman. A smart woman. “I’ll not have you coerce her, as you are coercing me, if I agree to this. One partner in such a match is bad enough.”
    â€œI am counting on your seeing that no coercion is necessary. Women aplenty have made fools of themselves over you. What is one more?” Sir Horace gazed over with a wizened spark in his eyes. “Woo her if you choose. Play the lovesick swain. Seduce if necessary. I leave the details to your expertise.”
    â€œAnd if she proves intractable? There is no way you can force her to accept a proposal when it comes. All my expertise may be for naught.”
    Sir Horace chuckled. “Possibly, possibly. We will consider that problem should it arise. I am sure it will not.” His mirth died. “Do we have a right understanding, Your Grace?”
    It was a hell of a bargain, and one not to accept if there were any other choice. “I need to think about it.”
    Sir Horace got to his feet. “Think all you want, but not too long. The coroner has been restless for several months now, and it can go badly if he is left to his own conclusions.”
    *   *   *
    â€œI ’ll be damned.”
    Ives muttered the curse for the third time. Or was it the fourth?
    He and Gareth sat with Lance in Lance’s dressing room. A bottle of port, its contents almost depleted, stood on the dressing table. Glasses dotted the chamber.
    Lance had sent for them when it became clear he would not sleep this night. Now they all sat half foxed, ruminating over the news he had shared about Radley’s visit.
    â€œNo,
I’ll
be damned, from the looks of it, no matter what I do,” Lance said. “Have you no advice? No insights? No calls for action? No
solution
?”
    That made his brothers alert.
    â€œWhat do you think of her?” Gareth asked.
    â€œWhat he thinks of her does not matter,” Ives said. “Lance, you cannot agree to marriage on these terms. He is bluffing. Lying.”
    â€œOr someone is lying to him,” Gareth said.
    â€œLet us assume it is the latter. Not because I trust Radley, but because he appeared far too sure of himself. If there is indeed a person willing to hang me with a lie, who might it be?” Lance grabbed the