She turned at Sir Richard’s voice and realized he extended a glass of water toward her. She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”
“Perhaps we should order tea?”
“N… no, thank you,” she said shakily after taking a sip. “I… just need to see Mr. Merrick. His release is all that matters.”
The duke’s gaze sharpened and she flushed, knowing she confirmed her personal interest. Shakily she placed the glass on the desk in front of her.
“That’s a devilish queer expression, Cam old fellow,” Sir Richard said suspiciously. “What are you thinking about?”
The duke’s lips relaxed almost into a smile and he didn’t shift his regard from Sidonie. “Mice.”
Sidonie flushed to her hairline and gulped some more water to hide her embarrassment. Surely he hadn’t guessed that she’d been at Castle Craven when he warned Jonas about William’s mental instability.
“Sirius likes her,” Sir Richard said in what seemed a non sequitur. At the sound of his name, the dog raised his head and surveyed the room’s occupants.
The duke cast Sir Richard an impatient glance. “Unlike you, I don’t base my whole acquaintance on a mongrel’s good opinion.”
“Harsh words, sirrah.” Sir Richard dropped into the leather chair beside Sidonie’s and slouched picturesquely. “You should, you know. The dog’s a confounded genius.”
“He’s brighter than his owner, I’ll give him that,” the duke muttered, and Sidonie caught an unexpected glimmer of humor on that austere face.
“No brains, no brains at all. Never claimed to have a thought past dinner. You’re the one with the head on his shoulders, Cam. Always have been. That’s why you and Jonas were such chums at school.”
Sidonie suspected Sir Richard wasn’t the fribble he purported. So far, he’d done a remarkable job of getting everybody to jump to his wishes and with little apparent effort. She couldn’t forget that moment he’d decided to help her. The gaze that swept her had been sharply perceptive.
“That’s not entirely why,” the duke said, no hint of a smile remaining.
The ebullient Sir Richard briefly sobered. Again, the change was so fleeting that Sidonie would have missed it if she hadn’t watched him closely. She recalled Jonas’s tale of scandal shadowing each man’s birth. “No, not entirely.”
The duke sighed and leaned back in his chair. Her heart sinking, Sidonie wondered if she’d imagined his fleeting lightness. His features were all severity now. “I suppose Sirius, confound him, wants me to haul Merrick out of jail.”
Sir Richard shrugged. “You can do it. Wave that blue-blooded hand and Merrick’s a free man before breakfast.”
The duke’s mouth flattened. “I’m not sure about that. Pelham George is on the case, I hear.”
Sir Richard clicked his fingers to indicate dismissal. “You run rings around that George fellow. Dash it, Cam, you run rings around everybody I know—and not just because you’re a duke.”
“I can certainly arrange for Miss Forsythe to see Merrick. I’m just not sure I should.”
“I mean to help Mr. Merrick.” Her hands clenched in her skirts.
“I’m sure, dear lady. But these are matters for men of the world. Would you tell me the nature of the proof or, even better, show it to me? I promise on my honor, I’ll take the matter as far as I can.”
Sidonie’s jaw tightened at his patronizing tone but she kept her voice even. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I can’t do that.”
“At the risk of leaving Mr. Merrick languishing in prison?”
She raised her chin. “I need to see Mr. Merrick. It’s of the utmost urgency. If you can’t arrange a visit, I’ll find someone who will.”
The duke’s chilly green gaze focused on her as if she were a rare scientific specimen on a glass slide. He didn’t answer her.
“Come, Cam. Get the girl in to see the chap. We can take it from there. You know you’re going to help,” Sir Richard drawled, raising his glass so the brandy caught the light. “I only had an evening at Crockford’s ahead. I’d wager more than I meant to lose there that you planned to bury your head in blasted paperwork. Wouldn’t you rather assist a valiant lady in a mission of mercy?”
“You make me sound poor spirited if I say no.” The duke’s deep voice was neutral. Sidonie couldn’t guess his intentions. Her heart raced with dizzying suspense as she waited for him to offer support or send her away.
Dear God, don’t let him send her away.
“Well, confound it, you are.” Sir Richard drank his brandy as nonchalantly as though a man’s life didn’t hinge on the decision.