“They’re not available this evening, Your Grace.”

“Oh, I think they’ll see me.”

Emma whispered, “That’s him. That’s Georgia’s duke.”

“He’s not my—” I looked at Sir Broderick and gulped. This was worse than any nightmare. How did he know I was here? My friends would throw me out of their society after this debacle.

“Bring him up, Jacob,” Sir Broderick called out.

My heart thudded with every step on the stairs. I glanced around the room. Every eye was trained on the doorway.

Maybe it was only a fluctuation in the gas pressure, but it seemed to me that the lights dimmed as the Duke of Blackford entered the study. He was dressed in the finest of black evening wear, and it seemed to absorb the warmth and brightness of the room and replace it with chilled darkness. Every hair on his head was precisely combed despite the wind outside.

I didn’t realize the room had grown silent and I was holding my breath until Sir Broderick said, “Come in, Your Grace, and state your business with us.”

“You need to cease your search for Nicholas Drake.”

“Has he been found?”

“No.” The duke stood just inside the room, towering over the seated occupants. His eyes were like burning coals, a thin crust of black holding the flame within. I knew I’d be in awe of his passion if he’d direct it toward something beneficial. As it was, I was astonished at the tightly leashed power flowing from him like heat from the fire. How had he known we were meeting here tonight?

“Then why should we stop?” Sir Broderick asked.

“A slander has been made against my reputation. I am the one who should find Drake and prove my innocence in his disappearance.”

“Our help could prove invaluable.”

“I doubt it.” The scorn in the duke’s voice was unmistakable.

Sir Broderick didn’t hide his anger. “You underestimate us, Your Grace.”

“No. You underestimate us. Call off your search for Nicholas Drake.” He faced me, his gaze piercing my brain. “Your help is neither wanted nor appreciated.”

Then he turned back to our host. “This should conclude any business between us. Miss Fenchurch, if you’ll see me out?”

I glanced at Sir Broderick, who nodded slightly. I rose and gave the duke my arm. He escorted me down the stairs in silence while I tried to plan a series of questions that might lead me to the reason a duke had descended on our meeting and ordered us away from the investigation.

Stunned, my mind spent those precious few moments absorbing the precision of his steps, the firmness of his arm, and the scents of soap and smoke. I couldn’t think of a single articulate question.

“Please convey to Sir Broderick that I am serious about handling this investigation without your interference.” He picked up his silk top hat and reached for the door handle.

I moved to stand with my back to the door, blocking his way. “We’ve not yet decided if we will undertake this search, but we might be more amenable to your request if you told us what was behind it.”

“This slur on my reputation is my business, not yours.”

“We’ve been asked to locate a missing man, not salvage your pristine reputation.” My tone made clear what I thought was more important.

He stared down on me, standing close enough to let me study the grim set of his mouth and feel the heat coming off his body past the cold air trapped in his heavy wool overcoat. For the first time, I noticed tiny light gray flecks in his dark eyes. “You don’t know what you’re getting involved in.”

“I’m going to find out.”

“You said the Archivist Society hasn’t yet decided to undertake a search for Drake.” His hand reached past me to the door handle.

I decided on my first step. I would defy a duke to find Nicholas Drake. “You said ‘us’ upstairs. Who are the others? The men in your club who’ve also been victims of Mr. Drake’s larceny?”

He opened the door by pushing me aside with it. “Why put yourself in danger?”

“Because a man is missing. He deserves to be found.”

Blackford stepped outside. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Why not?”

“He brings misery into the lives of everyone he meets.”

I stood on the doorstep, a cold mist blowing against my face, but I didn’t want to shut the door on the duke and the challenge he presented. “I can’t believe that.”

His mouth twisted into a grimace. “You’ve never met him.”

“Are you telling me this because he’s a thief?”

“No.”

“Then how can you say he brings misery everywhere? Who is he to you? You’re much too concerned about a man who is unimportant in your circles.”

He studied my face, his dark eyes losing the light gray flecks as I stared back. The mist stung with sleet but neither of us moved. I wanted to know his real reason for warning us off this case. I wanted to memorize his features. I wanted to consider the agitation raising my heart rate while I faced this powerful adversary. I had no idea why he didn’t walk away.

Finally he said, “Don’t exert yourself finding him. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy or your pity.” He set his top hat on his head, covering his thick black hair worn straight as a soldier’s back.

“Yes, he does. Everyone deserves that much. Good night, Your Grace.” I shut the door and leaned against it, listening to my pounding heart. When I didn’t hear any knocking on the outside of the door from an irate duke or his retainers, I wearily climbed the stairs, shoving back the messy curls that had come loose from my hairdo while I’d argued with the duke in the windy doorway.

Frances broke the quiet in the study when I entered. “That was the duke who’s involved in this investigation? Oh, my. Not what I expected.”

I couldn’t resist a dry retort. “They’re not all old and fat.” He’d just dismissed my assistance in a very public manner, and it annoyed me. Why would he think he could do a better job than me? Than the entire Archivist Society?

Fogarty, who rarely sat and never stayed motionless, limped across the room. “How did he know you’d be here?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did he know you were investigating Drake’s disappearance?”

I told them of my investigation of the carriage in question, and my earlier visit to Drake’s home.

I was aware of every pair of eyes on me, every click of a tongue, every murmur. I plodded on through each detail. They were fellow Archivist Society members and my friends. And they all held accuracy in high regard.

Fogarty, assuming the line of questioning he learned during his years on the Metropolitan Police force, took down my description of the jewelry stolen from the two women and the approximate dates. “I’ll see if this was really reported stolen.” He snapped his little notebook shut.

“You think the duke told me a fib?”

“I think it’s better to check.”

Sweat slid down my back by the time I finished, and my throat was dry. I took a sip of my now-cold, too-sweet tea and said, “Any questions?”

Sir Broderick led the questioning. “What did he want with you downstairs?”

“To warn me off this investigation. He said it would be dangerous.”

“What do you think happened to Nicholas Drake?”

“I don’t know. I believe that the duke’s carriage was not used in the abduction, but I also think Miss Carter sincerely believes the duke is involved. There can’t be too many carriages fitting that description. Finding them and learning if they were used that night would be one place to start.” I came to a halt and looked at Sir Broderick. “That is, if we’re going to investigate this case.”