Chapter Twenty-Four
“We need to talk, Henry.”
Adrian found his cousin later that night at his club, lounging over a bourbon and staring into the fire with a miserable look on his face. The moment Adrian spoke, however, Henry looked up, his expression becoming defiant.
Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Rather late for philosophical discourse, isn’t it? I assumed you’d be otherwise engaged with your lovely wife.”
“Silence.” Adrian checked around the room, but no one else was there.
Something in his tone made Henry’s expression shift, though the smile remained fixed. “My, my. So serious. What’s this about, cousin?”
“I have received concrete evidence that you were selling parts of my estate off. Concrete evidence handed to me by an investigator. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Henry’s eyes went wide, and he began to shake. “Cousin, you’re overreacting—”
“Am I?” Adrian’s black eyes met Henry’s with glacial intensity. “Then perhaps you can explain why Lady Denholm received a letter detailing my wife’s private history. A letter written in your hand.”
He withdrew the stationery, unfolding it with deliberate care. Henry’s eyes flickered to the paper, then away—too quickly, too telling.
“That’s absurd. I would never—”
“The handwriting matches perfectly.” Adrian placed the threatening notes beside it. “As does the script on these. The ones that terrorised my wife for weeks. Made her fear for her safety in her own home.”
Henry laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. “You think I wrote those ridiculous notes? Adrian, be reasonable. Why would I waste time frightening your wife?”
“Because she threatens your position.” Adrian moved closer, each step measured. “Because a duchess who successfully produces an heir complicates your inheritance plans considerably.”
“This is paranoid fantasy—”
Adrian’s voice dropped to something deadly quiet. “The stolen funds. The sold information. The orchestrated scandal at the ball. All traced back to you.”
Henry stood abruptly, the easy charm evaporating like mist. “So you hired someone to spy on me? On family? That’s what this has come to?”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Don’t make this about loyalty when you’ve been systematically betraying me for God knows how long. Stealing from the estate. Selling my private correspondence. Terrorising my wife.”
“Your wife is a liar!” The words exploded from Henry, all pretence abandoned. “She made you look like a fool in front of the entire ton. And yet you defend her?”
Adrian’s hands fisted at his sides. “You deliberately tried to destroy her. To destroy us both.”
Henry laughed again, harsher now. “Destroy you? Adrian, I was trying to save you from another catastrophic mistake. After Lady Nicole nearly ruined you—”
“Nicole was innocent. I helped her escape an abusive marriage, nothing more.”
“And society never believed it, did they?” Henry circled closer, eyes glittering. “Just as they won’t believe this marriage is anything but another lapse in judgement. The Ice Duke, melted by a conniving Scottish chit who played him for a fool.”
Adrian moved before conscious thought, grabbing Henry’s coat and slamming him against the wall. Books rattled on shelves. The brandy glass shattered against the floor.
“Say another word about my wife,” Adrian’s voice was winter itself, “and I will end you.”
Henry shoved back, surprisingly strong, breaking Adrian’s grip. “There it is. The suppressed Ravenscar temper. How long before you lose control completely? Before you prove everyone right about—”
Adrian’s fist connected with Henry’s jaw, cutting off the words. Henry staggered backwards, catching himself on the desk before launching forward with a snarl. They crashed together, all pretence of civility abandoned.
“Gah!” Henry was faster, landing a blow to Adrian’s ribs that drove the air from his lungs. But Adrian was stronger, fuelled by months of betrayal crystallising into rage. He caught Henry’s next swing, twisting his arm before driving him backwards into the bookshelf.
Volumes tumbled to the floor. The lamp on the side table crashed over.
Henry’s voice was raw, vicious. “You had everything—title, wealth, respect—and you wasted it on guilt and isolation! I would have been magnificent as a duke!”
He broke free, delivering a punishing blow to Adrian’s temple that made his vision swim. Adrian tasted copper, felt blood trailing from his split lip. But the pain clarified rather than weakened—sharpening his focus to a single, burning point.
“You’re not fit to manage a country estate,” Adrian said coldly, blocking Henry’s next strike and countering with brutal efficiency. “Let alone a dukedom.”
His fist caught Henry square in the stomach. Henry doubled over, gasping.
“You manipulated and betrayed me,” Adrian grabbed him by the coat, hauling him upright. “For years.” His other hand fisted in Henry’s cravat. “But Cecilia changed that. And that’s what terrifies you, isn’t it?”
He shoved Henry away with enough force to send him sprawling onto the carpet amongst scattered papers and broken glass.
Henry pushed himself up on shaking arms, blood trickling from his nose. But that vicious smile remained. “You think you’ve won? This isn’t over, cousin. Not by half.”
“No,” Adrian agreed, breathing hard, his knuckles already swelling. “It isn’t. You have one hour to pack your belongings and leave this house. Permanently.”
Henry straightened his coat, that sardonic smile returning. “You’re throwing me out? Your own cousin? Over a few misallocated pounds and some bruised feelings?”
“I’m removing a thief and a threat from my household.” Adrian’s voice never wavered. “Barrett has documented everything. The embezzlement. The intimidation. The deliberate sabotage. If you contest this, I’ll have you arrested.”
Henry paled. “On w-what proof?” he stammered.
“I have ledgers documenting your theft. Verified by my investigator.” Adrian moved to the door, opening it to reveal two footmen waiting in the corridor.
“I would rather not have you arrested. I would rather we deal with this in a dignified manner. After all, you are my cousin.” The words made his chest ache.
My cousin and once my best friend. “But know this—if you remain in London, if you come near my wife or my household again, I will pursue charges regardless of the scandal. I will destroy you as thoroughly as you tried to destroy us.”
Henry’s expression turned venomous, all charm stripped away.
“You’re making a terrible mistake, cousin.
You think that Scottish whore loves you?
She’s using you. And when she’s bled you dry, when she’s secured her position and pushed out an heir or two, she’ll laugh at how easily you fell for her performance. ”
Adrian’s hands shook visibly with the effort of restraining himself. “Get out. Now.”
And he watched as Henry fled the club.
Later, once Adrian had returned home, he stood motionless in the drawing room. His reflection in the window showed a man barely holding it together—jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury, hands still fisted at his sides.
A knock came at the door minutes later. Cassian entered, his expression grave.
“You found Henry?”
“Yes.” Adrian moved to pour himself brandy with hands that didn’t quite steady. “And with any luck, he is fleeing the country now.”
“Adrian.” Cassian’s tone made him pause. “We found the missing investigator. He’s alive.”
Relief flooded through him. “Where was he?”
“Hiding in Bristol. Henry discovered he was being followed and threatened him with violence if he didn’t disappear.” Cassian moved closer, accepting the brandy Adrian offered. “We’ve provided protection. He’s willing to testify to everything he uncovered.”
“Then we have him. Concrete evidence, multiple witnesses—”
“There’s more.” Cassian’s voice dropped. “Something you need to hear. Something you won’t like.”
Adrian waited, every instinct suddenly alert.
“The investigator went back further than we asked. Wanted to establish a pattern of behaviour.” Cassian’s eyes held sympathy. “The scandal with Lady Nicole. The rumours that nearly destroyed you three years ago?”
Ice flooded Adrian’s veins. “What of them?”
“They originated with Henry. He was the one who spread the lies about your relationship with her. Who convinced society you’d seduced another man’s wife when all you’d done was help her escape.”
Adrian gripped the desk edge, knuckles white.
The word emerged hollow. “He was the only one who stood by me when everyone else believed the worst. He helped me weather the scandal—”
“After creating it first.” Cassian’s voice gentled. “I’m sorry, Adrian. But the investigator found correspondence between Henry and several prominent gossips. Letters dated weeks before the scandal broke publicly. He orchestrated the entire thing.”
The room tilted. Adrian’s split lip throbbed. His ribs ached where Henry had landed that blow. But none of it compared to the devastation spreading through his chest.
Adrian stared at his friend, at the sympathy in Cassian’s eyes, at the truth he couldn’t deny.
Everything. Henry had destroyed everything.
For years.
And if there was one thing Adrian was certain of beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that he would never stop trying. There was no way Henry had fled London. There was too much at stake for him.