Page 29 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke (Notorious Sisters of London #3)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“ Y ou know we can’t arrest you, Your Grace.

” The firm but weary voice of the chief constable told him.

“If you had anything to do with these matters, it’s best to confess now and save us all a little hassle.

” The voice was sympathetic but held an edge of annoyance it tried to soften, even if it didn’t necessarily succeed.

“I will not confess to a crime I didn’t commit,” Donovan said sharply. The interrogation had been going on in his sitting room for two hours now. “I keep telling you, we need to talk to the house staff to find out how that man got in here.”

“And I keep telling you, Your Grace, that we can talk to the staff once you and I are done with our business.”

Donovan let out a sigh of aggravation. “Listen, constable. If there is anyone here who is complicit, be it through bribery, blackmail, coercion, or any such reasons, of that young man ending up in my wine cellar, then each moment they aren’t in our presence is one more they have to escape and take any evidence they have with them.

I’m not going anywhere, you’ll make sure of that, but they need to be kept here too.

” His voice was insistent to the point that it verged on pleading.

The chief constable studied him with a hard eye for a moment before he walked to the sitting-room door, opened it, and gave a muffled command to the other constables outside.

A few minutes after his return, the staff that supported the Manor of Lowe while the Duke was away stood in the room before Donovan.

“Which one of you knows how Benjamin Bradford ended up in the wine cellar?” Donovan asked calmly, but the calm demeanor only lasted a few moments of silence after he asked when no one volunteered to answer.

Donovan’s voice chilled. “I am demanding an answer. How did that man end up in the wine cellar?”

The stable master stepped forward. “Excuse me, Your Grace. We are all hesitant to answer because our answer might be viewed as incriminating.”

“Incriminating to whom?” Donovan asked skeptically.

“Why, to yourself, Your Grace,” the stable master told him, the hesitation in his voice becoming stronger. “The Manor received letters instructing us not to enter the wine cellar but to place food and water outside at the same times every day. The letters were all signed by Your Grace.”

Donovan was dumbfounded. “But... I issued no such instructions.” Donovan insisted to the constable who was now eyeing him with incredulity.

“How would you explain them then, Your Grace?” the chief constable asked. “These are your own people saying they were instructed. Would all of you testify to the truth of what this man says?” the constable asked and pointed at the stable master.

The rest of the house nodded grimly in return, clearly unhappy with the circumstances.

“I don’t know. This can’t be true. No letters were sent to the manor,” Donovan insisted.

“Oh, they were sent,” came a voice from the door. “Just not by my dear brother.” There stood Alistair, clearly disheveled from either sleeping or drinking, most likely both.

“You're the Duke’s brother?” the constable asked. “You smell like a brewery.”

“That may be, constable,” Alistair stumbled into the room. “But a brewery that will prove the Duke of Lowe is innocent.”

“Alistair,” Donovan hissed, “what are you doing here? I forbade you from coming here.”

“I know. That’s why I rode here the next day to get drunk as hell and wait to confront you and Lady Cheek.”

Donovan raised his balled-up fist, and Alistair held up his hands.

“Woah, hold on. It’s a good thing I did because then I found these letters,” Alistair held them up, “instructing the household to hold Mr. Bradford in the cellar. The thing is, constable, I’ve been living with my brother the whole time, and I can assure you he didn’t send any of these letters. ”

“You are hardly a credible witness,” the constable remarked, wrinkling his nose at Alistair.

“Yeah, most constables tell me that. That's why I took the time to ride back to London and get this.” Alistair handed Donovan a thick bundle of papers tied together.

“What’s this?” Donovan asked.

“Testimonials from multiple witnesses. Delivery men mostly, but a few paper and ink providers as well as one very helpful sweets salesman. More than a dozen London citizens, who have sworn, in writing, that they saw the man hand those letters off, and that he bore no resemblance whatsoever to my brother the Duke. Several of these delivery men even go on to say how they were hired to bring the letter to other couriers, so they wouldn’t know where it was going after they brought it and such. I tracked them all down though.”

Donovan, amazed at his brother's discovery, began to flip through the papers. Proof of his innocence was right there. “How did you find all this? Where did it come from?”

“It wasn’t easy at first,” Alistair admitted, “but once I got one person to talk, and I knew that something sinister was afoot, I remembered that little wager you made with Ronnik. I hope you don’t mind, but I cashed in your favor.

It was with his help that I was able to secure these interviews so quickly.

Turns out they were coming from the Inn of Courts.

Some solicitor you pissed off with all your badgering maybe?

I never looked past that. I was on my way back to free Mr. Bradford actually, but it looks like I am just in time for a completely different party.

Lucky me,” Alistair commented as the two other men marveled at his revelation.

Donovan went rigid at the mention of the Inn. “Constable, please tell me that Mr. Dole is still in Lowe.”

“The informant? Yes, he was quite insistent about having protection on his way back to London, but we couldn’t spare the men until tomorrow, so he is staying at a nearby inn until then,” the constable informed him. “You are saying that Mr. Dole is the true guilty party?”

“He’s not saying it; I’m saying it,” Alistair interrupted and shoved the stack of papers at the constable, “and I’m not saying it, the evidence is saying it,” he added belligerently.

The head constable began to look over the paperwork. Donovan was extremely impatient, though, fearing the true culprit would escape into the night.

“Sir, we can only be certain of Mr. Dole’s whereabouts for a short time. If he panics and flees-”

“Excuse me, Your Grace, but it was a presumption of justice that led us to detain you. I ask but for one more moment to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen again,” the constable was asking but asking firmly.

“I am not fond of being misled, nor having my time wasted. Worry not, this Mr. Dole will face justice.”

Donovan began to pace the room while the constable surveyed the written testimony.

It truly wasn’t long at all before Donovan and Alistair were on the road, their carriage following the insistent pace set by the constable’s horse. They would be at the village inn within a few minutes. Still, that was enough time for Donovan’s guilt to churn unpleasantly inside him.

“Alistair…” he began.

“Please, Donovan, no sappy apologies. It is beneath me and far beneath you,” Alistair begged.

“I was a cad. I barely treated you civilly, let alone as a brother,” Donovan continued insistently.

“That is true. And although I have been a right pain to you on more than a handful of occasions, you were pretty rough with me,” Alistair began. “The way I’ve seen it, we’ve both been trying to shove off the memories of Mother and Father onto the other for a long, long time.”

Donovan looked like he was about to say something, though the words fell from his lips before he spoke them. His brother was right, even if it was a harsh truth.

Alistair took a deep breath and continued, “So, I say, with consideration to all things, we call it even. From this point, everything hurtful is left on the road behind us, and we move forward as brothers,” the younger sibling said, offering his Duke brother his hand.

Donovan didn’t hesitate, but there was a pause that was filled with gratitude and admiration before he took his brother’s hand. “Thank you,” Donovan said to him.

“Thank you, Donovan. Just don’t expect me to straighten up anytime soon. My lifestyle is entirely my own bullheadedness and stupidity,” Alistair assured him, “Even if our parents are gone, someone has to disappoint them.”

Donovan rolled his eyes but still gave his brother a wry, understanding smile.

Donovan did not consider himself a particularly vindictive gentleman.

He would likely take offense if someone suggested otherwise.

But in the dark recesses of his mind, there were few moments more cherished than the look on Mr. Dole’s face when the constables sat on either side of him.

They were the very constables that had assisted in the apprehension of Donovan only a day ago. Now they were here for Mr. Dole.

“Are they allowing you to rest here before bringing you to London to face the consequences of your actions?” Mr. Dole tried to ask with the courage of accusation in his voice, but the tremble and squeak of fear held tightly to his throat.

“No, Mr. Dole. They are here for you. They are witnesses for what you say to me while the chief constable looks through the mountain of evidence that says you kidnapped Benjamin Bradford.”

“Evidence?” Mr. Dole laughed nervously. “What evidence? That is absolutely preposterous.”

“They know who signed the letters. They know who had them delivered. The thing I don’t understand is your motivations. I know that you know me, but what brought you to Miss Bradford and her brother? You could not have kidnapped him to get to me; the timeline doesn’t add up.”

“Your Grace, if you have been truly framed, then I am glad to hear it. A true weight is lifted from my heart to know you aren’t a kidnapper. But if you think I could have done such a thing? That’s absurd,” Mr. Dole stuttered.

Donovan said nothing. He could feel the cowardice emanating off the man. He could threaten him with all sorts of punishments, as allotted by his station, but it was beneath him. Instead, he simply leaned forward and stared at him expectantly.

Mr. Dole looked nervously to the constables on both sides of him, muscles taught against their uniforms, ready if he were to try and escape. “This isn’t fair…” he said in a hissing whisper. “None of this was my idea, to begin with.”

Donovan did let his concern or curiosity show on his face. “Speak.” That was all he said.

“When this started, I was just supposed to marry the woman, Miss Bradford. I was going to keep the dowry, and all I had to do was keep her happy and occupied. But then you entered the picture, and she decided that the plan had to change. I never wanted to be a part of anything like that. Not with you.”

“Not with me? What are you talking about?” Donovan asked.

“Your family... the deaths of your parents, I mean. You’ve been through enough.

I didn’t want to frame you for kidnapping but getting rid of Benjamin had been part of her plan all along.

She wanted to use you as an excuse to get rid of two birds with one stone, and you were a convenient loose end.

Only I didn’t want to hurt anybody like that.

.. I just don’t have it in me; you must believe that much of me.

” Mr. Dole was practically weeping, which was embarrassing to say the least for Donovan to sit there as the man cried.

“For heaven's sake, right yourself man. You are barely making any sense. It’s pitiful,” Donovan snapped angrily. “Who compelled you to do this?”

“You can’t!” Mr. Dole suddenly cried. “You can’t go after her! She is dangerous. She acts nice enough, but I’ve seen a look in her eye. I know she can kill if she feels the need to. That's why I had to do what she said. I’m against violence, and she used it against me.” He was babbling now.

“Mr. Dole! You will tell me who you speak of right this instant,” Donovan demanded.

Mr. Dole looked up at him, eyes filled with fear and regret.

He spoke the answer Donovan demanded of him, though not one he ever expected.

At first Donovan didn’t believe him, Mr. Dole was inclined to lie after all, but then Mr. Dole provided the Duke of Lowe with several letters he kept on his person, proving that he spoke true.

The answer and the proof caused Donovan to rush out of the inn and into his carriage.

He needed to get to Emma as soon as he could.