Emboldened, he continued, lest he lose his nerve. “I recall that your father was leaner, and his hair lighter." You resemble your grandsire. The duke. I assume he is still alive? Or should I address you as Your Grace? I'm afraid I'm not sure what to call you,” William rambled.
“As I said, Shepherd will do for now. I prefer to leave this island as I arrived. Minus the eye-patch. And what should I call you?”
William cleared his throat and ignored the pointed question of his identity. “Then you will be leaving?”
“Yes.” Shepherd sipped his whisky, smiling as he did so. “Of course. There is no reason for me to stay any longer. I have found what I sought.”
A trickle of sweat dripped down the side of William's face. “Me.” He wiped the sweat away with the back of his hand. “I assume, my lord, that you wish me to confess my sins to you?”
“Yes,” the husky voice murmured. “I would have it from your own lips.”
“If it matters, my lord,” he started shakily. “I didn't mean to hurt anyone nor did I wish ill to your family.”
The broad shoulders gave a small shrug. “Ill wished or not, my family was harmed.”
William cleared his throat again and tugged at his cravat. He felt as if he were strangling. He held up the pages he’d written out so carefully only this morning, in preparation for this meeting. “Confession is good for the soul, I'm told. If there’s any saving of my soul. It’s all here.” His eyes watered and he looked away. “I did not know your father would be blamed. The death of your parents weighs heavily upon me.”
“Not so heavily,” Shepherd said, waving a hand about the room, “that you didn’t enjoy the fruits of your deceit. You fled England and allowed all that happened, to happen.”
He winced, knowing Shepherd spoke the truth.
“How did you know about the papers? The list? How did you know to steal them?” Shepherd swirled his whisky as if admiring the dark liquid in his glass. “Who told you?”
“George. I'm not sure if your father told him or—” he shook his head. “I take full blame for the entire affair. I am the traitor.”
“Indeed you are, but you certainly had help becoming one. Manning is not your real name. I have read the guest list of my grandfather’s house party at least a dozen times. George Corbett sent regrets, three of the men I’ve cleared and the other two are dead. Manning is not a name in either my father’s correspondence nor my grandfather’s.” Shepherd's odd eyes glinted. “Who are you?”
William grew very still. “My family believes me dead, and I wish to stay dead. I would not bring my disgrace upon them. You may take me away in chains if you must or kill me on the spot. I no longer care. But I will not give them up, for you would destroy them all without a qualm.”
Shepherd merely cocked his head. “You are of noble birth. Perhaps, the second or third son, aren’t you?”
William could feel the blood leave his face.
“Why did you do it?” Shepherd said softly. “You caused the death of three men whose names were on that list. The French garroted two and had the third tortured.”
William swayed back and gripped the desk for support. Would the demon before him not shut up?
“You purposefully allowed the taint of treason to attach itself to an innocent man. Granted, my father was of no high moral standing, but still, to allow anyone, especially a member of my family to bear the taint of treason, is a most hideous crime.”
“They could never prove anything, my lord,” William whispered, his mouth dry as dust.
“No.” Shepherd growled. “My father did not hang, instead he and my mother became pariah’s within theton. My family bore the taint of treason and added to it the scandal of suicide. How bold you and Corbett were to do such a thing tomyfamily. And, the men who died. Two of them left wives and children. How do you sleep at night,Manning?”
“George…he never told me—” Dear God. He’d known about this man’s parents but not about the men whose lives he helped end.George never told me all of it—the sum of my evil.
“Did you sell out the lives of three men and ruin another’s life, just so you could have all of this?” Shepherd flung out his arm to include the fine furnishings of the study. “I would have your name.” The words came out clipped and cold.
“I didn't know!” William tried to remain calm but found he couldn’t. “I didn't even look at those damned papers. George never told me exactly what was in them.” William wiped at his eyes. “I didn’tknow! I didn’t know your father would be blamed or that men would die. Oh, Dear God.”
“I’m sure Corbett knew exactly what would happen.” Shepherd tossed back the rest of the whisky in one swallow.
“What does it matter now?” William’s voice shook with fear and emotion. “You’ve found me. I am guilty. You have your confession.”
“Why?” Shepherd demanded. “I wish to hear from your own lips why a man does such a thing.”
William spun away from him, tears rolling down his cheeks. The horror of what he’d done, what he’d caused, made him sick to the core of his being. He no longer cared if Shepherd saw his weakness. He wished the man would just run him through and end this horrible conversation.
“Do you see her?” William said wildly, his hand shaking as he pointed to Maureen’s portrait. “I did it for want ofher. I got her with child, willingly, I might add. But she was Irish, a maid, and Catholic to boot. I refused to put her aside and my family disowned me. My father sent me packing. I had no skill, no trade.” He turned back to Shepherd and said savagely, “Have you ever been in love, my lord?"
