Marcus led the Bow Street Runner to the study, finding Beveridge waiting, having anticipated where his master would wish to conduct the interview. A fire had been set and tea prepared.
“Perhaps Miss Voss would excuse us?” Hamilton said at the door to the study.
Marcus grunted. “Perhaps not. And her proper title is Duchess.”
He knew that there was no legal marriage certificate to prove this. No witnesses. If Hamilton asked to see such documents, then Marcus would have no choice but to bluff, to pretend outrage at the question and hope to browbeat the man. But, he did not seem the type to allow himself to be bullied.
“Of course. It is just Lord Voss was quite vocal on the subject of his daughter’s wedding to the Duke of Valebridge having been interrupted and not resumed,” he said.
The three of them went into the study and Marcus took his customary Chesterfield chair. Beveridge, saint that the man was, had placed another of the same size and style immediately to his right. The chair intended for Hamilton was opposite and positioned so that Marcus and Selina’s faces would be silhouetted with the bright fire behind them. Meanwhile, Hamilton’s face and reactions would all be perfectly illuminated.
“I do not care for the opinions of Lord Voss, my marriage to Selina has taken place and she deserves the same title as myself,” Marcus said coldly.
“As you wish, Your Grace. Although if the case is proved, then your title will also prove forfeit,” Hamilton said coldly.
Marcus’ hands tightened on the arm of his chair and Selina reached over to place her own hand atop his. He felt the taut iron in his muscles begin to relax under her touch, fingers unknotting themselves where they had.
“Where were you born, Your Grace?” Hamilton asked.
“Here,” Marcus said, shortly.
“Pardon my bluntness, but there is believed to be evidence that you are not Arthur Roy. And there is no record of a birth certificate for a son of Jeffrey Roy except for his now allegedly deceased son, Arthur. Do you have such a document?”
“No,” Marcus replied.
But if one exists, it will be in this house somewhere. I will find it.
“It is a rum state of affairs that an Englishman must prove to the state his own identity and that he is entitled to his own property,” Marcus continued.
“It would indeed be if it weren’t for the presence of one who claims the rightful inheritance of that property and has the credentials to prove his claim.”
“And why did this man not come forward when my father died?” Marcus demanded.
“I understand he was in his minority and his mother was not aware of his status as an heir to the Valebridge Duchy. This was pointed out to her much more recently,” Hamilton replied.
Nothing seemed to shake the man’s equanimity. Every response was delivered with cool efficiency as though reciting the dry facts of a ledger book. Every response delivered to him was noted with no hint of whether he considered it helpful to his case or to Marcus’ defense.
“By whom?” Marcus said, leaning forward in his chair.
“I am not at liberty to divulge that information, Your Grace,” Hamilton replied. “Have you lived in this house for your entire life?”
“No, I was sent away by my father to reside in the household of Doctor Samuel Livingston of Penrith. That is in Cumbria. I went there at the age of about six years old and stayed there until my father summoned me.”
“And you have a copy of this letter which summoned you?”
“Of course I do!” Marcus snapped.
“And, in this letter, your father names you as his successor?”
Marcus thumped the arm of the chair, feeling the noose tightening around him.
Someone has been very clever and has been thinking far ahead of me. When I was unaware of any threat to me, they were putting in motion plans to expose me and steal my birthright. On top of all of this, my brother is alive and seems a decent chap. But I still need to know about his decision to incarcerate my mother. It is all too much to take in one morning when my livelihood is at stake.
Again, he felt the cool pressure of Selina’s hand against his own. Again, he felt the fiery frustration within him easing. The problems seemed to shrink into more manageable sizes and he felt more able to handle them. Such was the power of a wife, one devoted to her husband. She was a support to him, his strength as well as his chief motivator to be the best man that he can be. For Selina, he wanted to be the greatest of men, wanted to rise to fill the esteem that he knew she held him in. For her, he would fight this tooth and nail. Only a Duke could protect her against the machinations of her father. A penniless man could not.
“It specifically namesyouas his successor that would also be classified as rightful in the eyes of the law?” Hamilton persisted.
Again, it was clear the man knew more than he was letting on, with his carefully chosen words. “Not in so many words, it does not. It simply summoned me to him.”
