Gray moved toward him, eyes wide. “You’re a spy,” he said.
“For the crown,” Aiden verified, his gaze still on Celia. “My mission had to do with the real Duke of Clairemont. I came to London to masquerade as him.”
The room around Celia began to spin and she staggered on her feet. Aiden moved toward her, but Rosalinde rushed past, glaring at him as she caught Celia by the waist and silently guided her to the settee. Celia sank down there, covering her face with both hands as she focused on breathing. If this was a dream, she had to wake up.
But when she pinched herself, nothing happened.
“You owe us a great deal more explanation thanthat,” Rosalinde spat. Her anger was clear in her voice even if Celia didn’t lift her head to look at her sister.
“You lied,” Celia moaned into her hands. “Youliedto me.”
“I did.” There was something in his even tone that made her look up. She found him staring at her evenly, all the pain on his face seeming very real. “I know you havenoreason to believe me now, but I hated every moment I was forced to do so. I had no choice thanks to my case.”
“Whatcase?” Gray asked, stepping toward Aiden.
Celia recognized the way his posture went on alert. She’d seen it before, but now she understood it better. He was preparing to fight. Gray didn’t seem to care.
“Where is therealClairemont?” Gray continued. “And why go to these depths, coming into our home and starting this courtship with Celia? Certainly that could have nothing to do with a case—it was only cruelty.”
Aiden flinched, and for a brief second, his eyes fluttered shut, like he was trying to find some control over his emotions. Then he looked right at her again and said, “The real Duke of Clairemont is…he’s dead.”
Celia let out a low sob that was so loud and mournful it surprised even her. She swallowed hard past the bile that had risen in her throat and prayed she wouldn’t proceed to be sick on her brother-in-law’s office rug in front of the man she loved.
Or was he the man she loved? He looked like him, but now he was telling her he was a lie, nothing but a lie. That everything he’d said or done was a lie.
“Clairemont,” came a hard voice from the door.
Everyone turned. There was a tall, thin, older man standing there, Gray’s butler behind him. Celia recognized him as the Earl of Stalwood. He was a distinguished member of Society. And he was staring evenly at Aiden.
Aiden almost sagged in relief. “I had hoped you would be at home when my message arrived.”
Stalwood jerked out a nod as the butler left them in privacy. He reached behind himself to tug the door shut. “Just barely.” He glanced around the room, looking at each of them, and then he frowned deeply. He faced Aiden, their eyes met and a world of communication flowed between them before he said, “Report.”
Aiden straightened up, his shoulders coming back, his tone becoming clipped and precise as he said, “Perry was here, he recognized I wasn’t Clairemont. Shot at Danford. He escaped after a foot chase through the park.”
Gray moved forward. “Do either of you want to bloody well explain what the ever lovingfuckis going on?”
Celia flinched at the redness of her brother-in-law’s face and the harsh language she knew he would never normally use in front of her or even Rosalinde.
“You don’t have to do this,” Aiden said softly, his gaze on Stalwood. “You’ve never broken cover before.”
“This case is not average, though, is it? It’s more complicated, and I think, this is the best path. For the case. And foryou.”
Aiden’s mouth thinned, and it was clear he was struggling even though Celia didn’t understand why. Finally, he waved a hand as if in surrender and turned away.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Danford,” Stalwood said, turning toward Gray with an incline of his head. “Clearly you have some information now that Clairemont’s identity has been broken. That is why I’ve come. It’s the same reason why I’m going to tell you now what very few know. I work for the War Department, as well.”
“He’s my handler,” Aiden said softly. “He assigns and manages cases for me and several others.”
Gray stepped back. He expression was bright with shock. “And are you truly the Earl of Stalwood or did you two killhim, as well?”
Stalwood frowned. “Iamthe Earl of Stalwood and no one from our department killed the duke, I assure you.” He shifted and looked at Rosalinde and Celia. “Perhaps the ladies should step out.”
Celia moved on him, her hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not going anywhere, my lord. You and this…thismanengaged in a subterfuge that involved me more than anyone else. I have every right to hear the details as much as Gray does.”
Gray folded his arms. “I agree. Celia stays if that is what she desires.”
She shot him a look of gratitude even as she reached back to find Rosalinde’s hand. When her sister’s fingers laced through hers, she drew a long, deep breath. “Now, Lord Stalwood, you and Aiden…Clairemont…whoever he is…you owe all of us the whole truth. Please start telling us now.”
