"Yes. So admittedly I have a vested interest in wanting revenge. I may not be the ideal candidate to pursue Ivers, since my judgment may be impaired, but I've been thinking of returning to Kent for a few days. I haven't visited the ancestral pile since Christmas. If you like, I could see what I can discover about him."
"That's an excellent idea," Lucian commented. "Meanwhile I intend to keep my agents hard on his trail. Ivers is putting up at Limmer's Hotel for now, but if he should be evicted, he could go to ground and be impossible to find."
Dare left London that afternoon and arrived in Kent late at night, startling his household staff. The Wolverton principal seat was a vast estate with a large, elegant brick manor and an attractive park surrounded by numerous tenant farms and orchards. Dare rarely visited, for it held such unpleasant memories for him.
It was too late to begin inquiries tonight, but he intended to question his servants first thing in the morning, starting with his grandfather's elderly secretary. If anyone would know about the neighboring peers, it would be Samuel Butner. Butner had been privy to all the late marquess's business affairs, and while he'd been pensioned off when Dare succeeded to the title, he still lived in the manor as he had for the past thirty-odd years.
Too weary and restless to sleep after his long journey, Dare found himself in the comfortable library, drinking an excessive quantity of his late grandfather's excellent brandy, remembering the last time they had been together in this particular room.
It was the third day of their argument over Dare's marriage plans. Robert North, the sixth Marquess of Wolverton, had been enraged to the point of apoplexy because his grandson and heir refused once again to call off his betrothal to the scheming French jade.
"She has duped you, you damned young fool! She only wants you for your fortune. She will bleed you dry!"
"You are entirely mistaken, Grandfather," Dare responded tightly, barely keeping his own temper in check out of respect for his relative's advanced age and position as host. This was the marquess's house, after all.
"I won't stand for it, do you hear me? I will disown you before I allow one drop of her blood to taint our line!"
"I have told you more than once, your threat of disinheritance holds no weight with me," Dare reminded him.
"Your jade is not as sanguine about you losing your inheritance. I think you will find her opinion of you greatly changed now that she knows she won't get a penny of my fortune."
Dare's eyes narrowed. "You spoke to Julienne?"
His grandfather's craggy brows knitted together in a scowl. "I made certain she understands the consequences of your insupportable marriage."
For an instant Dare thought back to his last tryst with Julienne, remembering her reluctance to elope with him. But she hadn't known then of his grandfather's threat to disown him, for he hadn't told her. Dare shook his head. "She is not interested in your fortune."
"The devil she isn't!" The marquess's voice rose again to the level of a shout. "Hell and damnation, lad, don't you see? You are letting your cock rule you!"
"No, Grandfather. For once I am letting my heart rule."
A dark and furious flush suffused the old man's cheekbones, but he made a visible effort at restraint. "I tell you, you are a blind fool. That Laurent trollop has been cuckolding you for months now with her lover. Ivers shared her bed long before you began sniffing at her skirts."
Dare stiffened with instinctive jealousy. Ivers's attentions to Julienne had always made him grind his teeth. But the idea of her cuckolding him was laughable.
At Dare's scoffing sound, his grandfather waved an accusing finger at the library window, in the direction of the earl's nearby estate. "Ask Ivers if you don't believe me."
Dare returned a wintery smile. "You will have to come up with a better tale than that if you expect to turn me against her."
Giving a growl of pure rage, Lord Wolverton shook his gnarled fist. "How about this tale then? Your jade is guilty of treason. I will see her in prison or worse if you try to wed her."
A sudden chill swept through Dare. His grandfather was powerful and influential enough to make good such a threat if he wished to.
When Dare hesitated, the marquess's rheumy gaze narrowed with malice. "They hanged two English sailors from Whitstable last month for treason. Your whore was their accomplice."
"You know damned well that is a lie."
"I know nothing of the kind! Those bloody emigres are always short of funds and willing to sell their loyalty for gain. I could easily find proof of your tart's guilt."
Dare's hands momentarily clenched, but he kept his voice under tight control when he issued his own warning. "You would be ill-advised to threaten her with harm, old man."
"Then do not force my hand, boy! I mean what I say. Your betrothal will not stand. It will not stand, do you hear me!"
Ignoring the aging nobleman's shout, Dare turned abruptly on his heel and stalked from the room, intent on calming his own seething rage before he rode to meet Julienne at their trysting site.
Until that afternoon, he had been fiercely determined to defy his grandfather's wrath, regarding the possibility of disinheritance as inconsequential to his future happiness.
But this new threat against her was enough to give Dare pause. Certainly enough to make him question the wisdom of an elopement. He wanted Julienne as his wife, but not at the risk of endangering her. His grandfather was powerful enough to cause her a great deal of trouble, perhaps even to give real substance to any fabricated charges of treason.