“What do you want?” Jeremy interrupted, his patience wearing thin.
“I… well, I have been searching for you for over a year,” the man replied in haste, a familiar fear in his rapidly blinking eyes. “You must be the younger brother, I take it? Uh… Jeremy Bolt?”
Jeremy gave the smallest nod.
“Well, Mr. Bolt, it… um… well, it would appear that you are the last living heir to a title and considerable land and inheritance in the south-west of England,” the man replied, his throat bobbing. “A dukedom, in fact. Stonebridge.”
Jeremy took a step toward the man, towering over him. “Is this some jest?”
“No jest, Your Grace,” the man replied, taking a half step back. “As I say, I have been looking for you for some time, and I am so very sorry that I could not find you sooner.” His gaze flitted from the smoldering castle to the body on the ground and back to Jeremy again, looking intensely uncomfortable. “Truly, I… I can only offer my deepest sympathies.”
Jeremy took a breath. “If I am the last living heir, there must be a lot of men in me brother’s situation.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” the man answered, unwilling to look Jeremy in the eye. “I can show you the line of inheritance on our journey south, so you can be certain that this is no mistake.”
Turning his head to look over his shoulder and lifting his gaze to the suffocating clouds billowing from the burning castle to blend with the rainclouds, Jeremy glanced at the scared, trembling little girl in her mother’s arms. He did not need to think for very long.
“Looks like we’re headed to England, then,” he said flatly.
For there was nothing left for any of them here. And though he would be sorry to bury his brother here and move so far away from that grave, Douglas would have haunted him forever if Jeremy had dared to bury him in English soil.
I don’t know that I will be much of a duke, brother, but at least yer bairn will want for nothing.And, right now, Sophie was the only thing that mattered: the last piece of Douglas that existed in this world.
CHAPTER 2
One Week Later
Anna whistled softly to herself as she wiped a slightly damp cloth over the spines of the books in the drawing room. As a duchess, it wasn't something she had to do, but she found a certain peace in the rhythm of the task. It was the same with gardening or sewing a garment that needed repair; these tasks quieted her mind—simple and undemanding—reminding her of peaceful days at Pembroke House with her father.
Oh, I must remember to speak to Mr. Miller about the garden gate,she mused as she worked.And the chicken coop. That fox shallnotget another one of my darlings.
It was one of the troubles of running a grand manor in the countryside: the wildlife. It was one of the benefits, too, to see badgers and hedgehogs and weasels and foxes and frogs and all manner of birds right outside, among the greenery andwoodland. Nothing could have compelled her to exchange the bother of a few emboldened predators for the altogether more frightening beasts that existed in city society, even if shedidworry for her beloved chickens.
She was about to abandon her work and go directly to the butler, Mr. Miller, to discuss the fox problem right then, while it was fresh in her mind, when his sister, Katherine, appeared at the drawing room door. The pretty young woman looked rather flushed and bewildered, her chest heaving as if she had just sprinted in.
“Katherine?” Anna said, frowning. “Is everything well?”
The young woman had replaced the older maid, Wilma, that Robert had assigned to Anna before his death, though Wilma had not gone far; she now served as the housekeeper. As for the lady’s maid that Anna had brought with her from her former home, Yvonne had married a year ago, with Anna’s blessing, and was now raising her first child, free of the burden of taking care of a duchess who could take care of herself.
Katherine cleared her throat. “Apologies, Your Grace.” She paused. “Someone has… arrived.”
“Who?” A tug of apprehension straightened Anna’s posture, for she did not care much for visitors. In her position, they worried her.
Just then, a towering figure appeared behind Katherine, so broad in the shoulders that he practically blocked the entiredoorway. His greatcoat dripped from the rain pouring outside, the brim of a top hat concealing his face.
Yet, nothing could hide the authority in his deep, rumbling voice as he replied, “The new owner of this manor.”
“I beg your pardon?” Anna bristled as she set down her cloth and brushed her hands on her skirts.
It has happened. I knew it could not last. But the solicitor… Oh, he promised! He swore to me… He said no one could take this from me. How can this be?Her thoughts were a Roman forum, everyone clamoring to be heard at once.
“Do ye have trouble hearing?” the man replied, his accent strange: a hint of English gentleman blended with the rougher brogue of a Scotsman.
Anna narrowed her eyes at the man, who had not yet deigned to show his face, the lowered brim of his top hat and the angle of the rainy afternoon light keeping him mostly in shadow.
“I heard you perfectly well,” she replied curtly. “It iswhatyou said that beggars belief. It simply is not possible. So, what manner of charlatan are you?”
She swallowed down the rising anxiety, for the truth was that thiswasentirely possible. No matter how cloistered or unassuming she had tried to be, keeping to herself, hoping that she would simply be left alone and forgotten, she knew thatsociety would never permit a woman to have free rein of such a manor as this.
