Lucy first gave a wobbly smile, then cried right along with her.
Philip shifted from one foot to the other, then into a water puddle left by the broken vase, and looked alternately at the ceiling, the window, and the broken shards on the floor.
The door opened and the butler entered.
“Your Grace.”
Ashmore released Arabella. His own eyes were red.
“The Duke of Morley is here.”
“The devil,” breathed Philip.
Chapter 27
“Morley?” Ashmore’s brows cleared as he understood. Turning to the butler, he said, “The complete name, Howard, if you please.”
“His Grace George Merivale, the Duke of Morley,” the butler announced.
The old man hobbled into the room. He broke into a huge smile when he saw Philip.
“My grandson.” Lifting his cane, he spread his arms.
Philip backed off and fully stepped into the water puddle. “I am not your grandson.”
Ashmore lifted an eyebrow. “Merivale. I should have realised sooner.”
The old duke nodded. “My son was Edward Merivale.” He waved a gnarly hand at Philip. “This is Philip Merivale, the Earl of Threthewick. My grandson.” There was pride in his voice.
“I am not his grandson,” Philip repeated. “I am not an earl. I am a blacksmith.” He jutted out his chin and glared at them.
“Of course you are.” Lucy patted his arm.
“No doubt you will make up your mind in good time as to who you are,” Ashmore informed him. A muscle twitched in his cheek, which was the only indication he was amused.
“Psahw. He always says that.” The old man dropped into an armchair. He looked at Lucy. “You must be the duchess.” In the general upheaval of his arrival, they’d forgotten about formal introductions.
His eyes fell on Arabella, who skulked in a corner and his face brightened. “Lady Arabella. What joy to see you again.”
Arabella closed both eyes. She physically felt the shock that went through Philip as he whirled to look at her.
“What? You two know each other?” He looked from one person to the other.
“But of course. We had a nice afternoon tea in Thornton Hall on her day off. I must say, I was disappointed you never replied to my missive. But then in a roundabout way you did end up helping me reunite with my grandson. I simply followed you here to London, you see.”
Philip’s blood drained from his face.
“Lady Arabella was so kind as to arrange a meeting between us.” Turning to Ashmore, he said, “You must forgive me that I drag you into this family affair. Your sister has been most helpful.”
“I am keen to learn in what way Arabella helped reunite you with your grandson.” Ashmore sat down and crossed his legs.
“You are doing it again, Ash.” Arabella set her lips in a mulish line.
“What?” Her brother knitted his brows.
“Speaking as though I am not in the room.” Her nerves were close to snapping.
“Then tell us, Miss Weston.” Philip burst forth. “I mean, Lady Arabella. How did you come to know Morley and what, exactly, was your role in getting him here?” Philip crossed his arms and there was an expression in his eyes that made her gulp.
