Her vehemence intrigued the man as, she could see, did her immediate defense of a man who was her brother-in-law’s enemy. Sir Richard’s jaw firmed in a way that made her wonder if he was quite the louche dandy he appeared. He extended his arm. “Miss Forsythe, I find you of interest. I’m sure Sedgemoor will as well. Would you care to accompany me into the duke’s library?”
“Sir Richard, this lady is unknown to His Grace,” Carruthers bleated behind them.
“She is, however, a great friend of mine. Pray announce us, my man.”
“His Grace specifically said he’d see no unscheduled callers.”
“He’ll see me. And Miss Forsythe is with me.” He paused. “And, Carruthers, take the lady’s cape. I’m surprised you’ve let her wait without the basic courtesies.”
Sidonie’s lips twitched when ten minutes ago, she’d thought she’d never smile again. Fate had granted her a chance to save Jonas. What she made of it was up to her.
“Sir Richard Harmsworth, Your Grace, and Miss Sidonie Forsythe,” Carruthers intoned, standing back as Sidonie and her escort entered the duke’s luxurious library. When she heard her champion’s name, fledgling hope spread its wings and prepared to soar.
From behind a massive Boulle desk, the familiar dark-haired man rose with his hand outstretched, then paused with a frown when his attention fell upon her. His bone structure was so hard and pure, it seemed carved from the same marble as the statues outside. The assessing green eyes held no welcome. Sidonie shivered and her optimism faltered.
With obvious familiarity, Sirius trotted to the rug before the roaring fire. He stretched out and rested his nose on his front paws.
“Miss Forsythe, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The duke’s voice was cool but, thank goodness, not hostile.
Sidonie curtsied and reminded herself someone with his commanding presence was exactly who she needed. Mustering courage, she raised her chin and returned his direct stare. “Your Grace, I request your aid for Jonas Merrick, wrongfully charged with the murder of my brother-in-law, Lord Hillbrook.”
Comprehension entered the duke’s eyes, but didn’t warm his expression a single degree. “I see. I should have realized when Carruthers said Forsythe. You’re Lady Hillbrook?
?s sister. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, although I see you know Richard.”
She saw no point in deception. “I met Sir Richard in your hall where I’ve waited all day. He helped me barge in upon you,” she said crisply. “I’m sorry for intruding, but I believe you and Mr. Merrick were once friends.”
The duke’s eyebrows arched with a hauteur that would have daunted her had she been one whit less desperate. “Merrick and I were schoolfellows. We haven’t exactly been bosom-bows since.”
Beside her, Sir Richard made a dismissive gesture with one elegant hand. “Oh, dash it, Cam, Jonas has hoed his own row since his parents’ marriage was declared invalid. You know he’s always been a proud devil, even as a boy. He’s too stiff-necked to admit he might need friends.”
Oh, my love, you’ve been so lonely. The reminder that she was most likely Jonas’s only ally bolstered Sidonie’s purpose. “He needs friends now.”
“Is that what he told you?” The duke sounded bored as he gestured for her to sit.
“He hasn’t told me anything.” As she subsided into a chair facing the desk, she swallowed to moisten her dry throat. “They won’t let me see him.”
The duke sat and regarded her over steepled fingers. “The question arises why you want to see him at all. It’s public knowledge Hillbrook and Merrick loathed each other. Which I suspect is why he was arrested. One would assume family loyalty places you in Hillbrook’s camp.”
Sidonie’s color rose and her eyelashes flickered with embarrassment. These men must guess her interest was more intense than a woman seeking justice for a stranger. “It’s all a terrible mistake. Lord Hillbrook committed suicide. Mr. Merrick is innocent.”
“So why do you need to see him?”
Because without him, I’m an empty husk. Because I need to touch him more than I need the air I breathe. “I can prove his innocence.”
“Egad, that’s a strong claim, Miss Forsythe.” Sir Richard wandered to the sideboard and helped himself to a generous brandy.
The duke wasn’t so impressed. Another supercilious arch of dark eyebrows. This man had the aristocratic mien down to a T. “I’m sure Mr. Merrick has engaged competent solicitors. You should take your proof, whatever it is, to them.”
She could hear he doubted the existence of any proof. “I don’t know who they are.”
“Would you like me to find out?”
“No, thank you, Your Grace. The information is… private to Mr. Merrick. He needs to know the details before I pursue the matter.”
Over tapping fingers, the duke contemplated her for a bristling interval. Her stomach knotted as she prayed he wouldn’t dismiss her. If he did, she’d turn to Sir Richard. If he wouldn’t help, she’d track down Jonas’s solicitors, although right now she had no idea how to do that. Perhaps someone at Newgate might know. She’d already tried Jonas’s offices in the city, but they’d turned her away. Tomorrow she’d go back and stage a more determined siege. She wasn’t giving up.
“Miss Forsythe?”