Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

The duke looked down at Merritt with a mixture of fondness and concern. “I’m sorry about the warehouse,” he said. “Whatever you need, you have only to ask.”

“Thank you, Uncle, but … how did you find out so quickly? And why are you here?”

For all Kingston’s charm, he was a difficult man to read, habitually keeping his thoughts and feelings concealed. “I came to ask after the injured man,” he said. “I happened to make his acquaintance at my club the day before yesterday.”

“Yes, he told me about that.”

Sharp interest flickered in the duke’s gaze. “You saw him afterward?”

Merritt shrugged evasively, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

“And now you’ve brought him to your own home,” he commented.

“The warehouse flat was destroyed,” Merritt said, trying not to sound defensive.

“Tell me the nature of his injuries.”

“Well, you see—wait, before we go into that, why have you taken such an interest in Mr. MacRae? And how—” Merritt stopped and looked up at Ethan, who had come to her side. She realized the two of them knew something about Keir that she didn’t. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I sent word to His Grace earlier this evening,” Ethan replied, “as soon as I found out MacRae had been injured.” He turned to Kingston with a slight scowl. “Sir, I thought I made it clear there was no need for you to come.”

“You did,” Kingston said calmly. “However, in light of the fact that over the course of two nights the lad was nearly carved up and roasted like a saddle of mutton, my involvement is obviously called for.”

Luke spoke up then, having come from the parlor at the sound of the duke’s arrival. “Hello, Uncle Sebastian. What did you just say? Carved up like a … did something happen to MacRae that I don’t know about? Involving a knife?”

Merritt answered reluctantly. “Someone attacked Mr. MacRae in an alley the night before last, when he was on the way here for dinner. I sent for Dr. Gibson to come stitch him up.”

“On the way here for dinner …” Luke repeated, and gave her a dark look.

Ethan, meanwhile, regarded the duke with thinly veiled exasperation. “With all due respect, Your Grace …” He paused to search for words.

After a few tense moments, Kingston let out a short sigh. “Ransom, everyone knows the phrase ‘with all due respect’ never precedes anything respectful whatsoever. Just speak your mind.”

“Yes, sir. Your involvement at this point is only going to complicate the situation. It would be best for all concerned if you’d go home and wait for me to send word.”

The duke leveled a cool glance at him. “You know why I’m not going to do that.”

“He might know,” Merritt burst out, “but I don’t, and I’d like someone to explain what you’re being so mysterious about.”

Ethan looked apologetic as he replied. “I’m not at liberty to say, my lady.”

She turned to Kingston. “Uncle?”

“My dear, as of yet there’s nothing to tell, only unconfirmed suspicions. I’d rather not discuss it now.” The duke focused on Ethan. “Ransom, what did you find out at the scene of the fire?”

“It was arson,” Ethan said quietly. “The fire inspector found discarded kerosene cans by the road between the warehouse and the export sheds. And someone tampered with the exterior door to the bonded warehouse. The deadbolt was locked and the door handles removed. Whoever did it waited until MacRae was in the warehouse flat, and made sure he couldn’t escape after the fire was set.”

Merritt began to tremble with horror and rage. “Why would someone want to kill him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Ethan replied. “But I’ll find out. In the meantime, he can’t stay here.”

Luke broke in triumphantly. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“We need to take him out of London,” Ethan continued, “to a place where he can recover in safety while I find out who’s behind this.”

“I’ve already decided to convey Mr. MacRae to Hampshire,” Merritt said, “to Stony Cross Park.”

Her brother looked at her blankly. “Home? Our home?”

“Our parents’ home,” she said. “I’m sure they won’t mind taking him in and helping me look after him.”

“He’s not a stray puppy, Merritt!”

Ethan intervened before an argument began in earnest. “My lady, since we don’t yet know why MacRae is in danger, or who might be after him, I think it’s better if you and your family are kept out of it.”

“Ransom is right,” the duke told her flatly. “You have more than enough to keep you occupied, and you have a reputation to consider. Don’t worry about MacRae. You have my personal assurance he’ll receive the best of care.” He leveled a glance at Ethan. “He’ll recuperate at my home in Sussex. My estate is large and well-guarded, and my wife and two youngest children are away on a trip to Paris.”

“Uncle Sebastian,” Luke asked in bemusement, “why do you want him? In fact, why are you here at all?”

Kingston ignored the questions, his attention remaining on Ethan. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements for transportation,” he said. “If the doctor says MacRae can be moved, I’ll have him out of here by morning.”