Chapter Thirty-Two

L ucy sat down abruptly on the settee; they finally had an answer. The Viscount Griffen. She glanced over at Hart. “It must have been he who commented bitterly about me living his daughter’s life.”

Hart stood still as a statue with his jaw clenched. Then he nodded. “Right. When I met with him, my instincts told me he was hiding something.” He ran a hand over his face. “He sat calmly across the table and lectured me about focusing on the future when every word out of his mouth was a lie.”

“Covering his tracks from the very beginning. And he had help based on the conversation we overheard yesterday.”

“What conversation yesterday?” Miss Harper asked.

She glanced at Hart. Should we trust her? She asked him silently.

Hart moved to retake his spot next to her. “Miss Harper, thank you for sharing your heartbreak. You don’t know how much it means to me to know the truth. I wish I had known sooner; I would have taken care of you.”

Miss Harper tilted her head, another wry half smile on her face. “Would you have? Would you have even believed me if I had come to you?”

“I like to think I would have. I believe you now. And I would like to help you with my nephew’s care.”

Miss Harper stiffened, her back going ramrod straight. “We are doing just fine on our own. We don’t need your money.”

“But surely—”

Lucy gripped Hart’s arm before he could make it worse.

She tried to turn the conversation back on topic. “Miss Harper, we aren’t just looking for answers to the how of their deaths but also to who helped cover it up. Someone has attempted to kill Hart before he finds the truth.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Miss Harper asked.

Hart nodded. “Last year, Lord Galey sent me a message asking me to meet him. He said the guilt of knowing what had happened to my father was eating at him. I joined him in his carriage to speak privately, but before he could say much, a small handheld bomb was thrown into the carriage.” Hart paused, his brow furrowed.

“What is it?” Lucy murmured.

“Galey said they were very powerful, they had ears everywhere, they had found us. Not him, they.”

“It has to be the club. The Knot of Isis. Don’t you think?”

“The club?” Miss Harper asked.

“Yes, Hart’s father used to be part of a club in his school days, and they used the Knot of Isis as a symbol for their group. It means—”

“To protect against one’s enemies.” Miss Harper nodded.

Lucy grinned. Smart lady. “Yes. Hart’s father still used a stamp with the symbol on it in his correspondence with these old friends. The stamp was also on a threatening letter he received warning him to not back out of some deal. We’ve figured out who a few of the members are. Yesterday, we overheard through a partially open door, a group of men talking about Hart’s father at the Hollins’s party. We couldn’t place the voices, but we do know who exited that room.” She turned to Hart. “But how to know which ones were involved in the duel and the subsequent whitewashing of the incident?” Her brain tumbled over all the information they had learned. “And how did Robert end up in the middle and dead?” She continued to muse.

Hart and Miss Harper stared at her aghast.

Lucy cringed. “Oh dear. I’m sorry I did not mean to sound blasé about Robert’s death. I should have kept my thoughts to myself.”

“No, that’s not why I’m staring. I love how your clever mind works,” Hart said. “I was thinking that the men in that room yesterday all knew what happened and so we can safely assume they are all members. The betrothal must have been the broken deal.”

“I feel as though you two are speaking in code. I hate not knowing all the information,” Miss Harper grumbled.

Lucy exchanged another look with Hart. The editor of a scandal rag hardly seemed a good person to confide in what they had figured out thus far. They had probably told her too much as it was. Hart wore a matching skeptical expression.

She speared Miss Harper with a piercing look. “You have hardly been kind to us in your paper. Why would we trust you not to spill the information we have gathered all over London?”

The lady sighed. She looked at Hart. “I suppose… that the vitriol came from a place of bitterness. You are still alive where he is dead.” She grimaced as she turned her gaze to Lucy. “And you are living the life that would have been mine. It makes me a bit ashamed to say out loud that I feel the same way as the despicable Lord Griffen. I thought I had made peace with my life.” She shook her head. “I have made peace. I have a wonderful little boy and a business that supports us. It is enough.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say. She was still angry at what had been said in the paper at Hart’s expense, but she also could understand Miss Harper’s bitterness. The woman had suffered an enormous loss. She squeezed Hart’s hand. He sat with his brows lowered, his expression heartbreakingly sad.

“I have wished many times over the last five years that he was still alive. I would have willingly taken his place to have that be a reality.” Hart turned his gaze to her and lifted Lucy’s fingers to his lips. “Not anymore though. Now, thanks to my wife, I can finally see the bright possibilities my future can hold.”

Lucy leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. This man, with his surprisingly sweet moments, was going to make her cry again. And she did not like to cry. Lucy made herself turn back to the editor.

Miss Harper glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Listen, I have a large network of informants that could be of use in this matter. Finding out what happened to Robert is just as important to me as it is to you. You can trust me. I swear.”

Hart nodded. “After Griffen said, ‘That girl is living the life my daughter should have had,’ another man taunted him for his bad decisions.”

“But it was the other man who Griffen accused of ‘killing the boy.’ It seems both deaths weren’t Lord Griffen’s doing,” Lucy said.

Miss Harper’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line. “The sheer gall of these lords. They just do whatever they want with no consequences. Protect each other at all costs. It’s disgusting.”

“These were my father’s trusted confidants, and they killed him. Some brotherhood.” Hart spat out. “There will be consequences. I promise you that, Miss Harper.”

Miss Harper nodded. “I believe you, Lord Hartwick. Give me the names of all the men in that room. And I will gather every piece of dirt I can on them. Maybe something useful will come to light.”

Lucy rose to her feet. “Thank you, Miss Harper. We truly appreciate your help. And if there is anything we can do to help you, let us know.”

Hart stood as well. “Yes, I won’t let you or my brother’s son flounder in any way. Whatever you need. You are both now under the protection of the Duke of Hartwick.”

Miss Harper’s mouth fell open. Lucy chuckled at the lady’s shocked expression.

She leaned down to buss her cheek and whispered, “It’s a wonderful place to be.”