The next heir was some distant cousin on Mark’s grandfather’s side. Nicole didn’t know the man’s name.
“No, no, my dear boy.” The duke coughed again. “That’s why I’ve called you.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. “Yes, I understand. I can help. Just tell me who—”
His uncle’s coughing fit worsened. He was obviously agitated. They waited in silence for it to subside.
“Don’t upset yourself, Your Grace. We’re here to help.” Nicole stroked the man’s sweaty hair away from his forehead and searched his haggard face.
“Mark doesn’t understand.” The old man addressed his words to Nicole. He clutched at her wrist. “Heisthe next in line.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mark went hot and then cold all over. A chill ran down his spine. He tugged at his cravat. It felt like a garrote, tightening, tightening, choking him to death. The room spun and the smell of turpentine made him ill.
No. What his uncle said was not true. Titles like that of duke didn’t run to the female side of the family. The old man was mistaken. He was sick and old and mistaken. Nicole would tell him. She would know. She knew the rules of the aristocracy.
“No, it’s someone on Grandfather’s side, of course,” Mark said, to convince himself as much as his uncle. He gave Nicole a desperate look, begging her with his eyes to explain to his uncle the error in his thinking.
“Yes,” Nicole said, still stroking the old man’s forehead. “Isn’t the heir a man distantly related to your father? Some second cousin or some such?”
Mark expelled his breath. There. Nicole knew. Nicolewas right. Dukedoms didn’t pass down to the sons of duke’s daughters. It wasn’t possible that he was the heir.
“Listen to me,” his uncle said, clutching Mark’s hand with his cold, bony one. “The Duchy of Colchester is a title unlike any other. It was bestowed upon my great-great-great-grandfather by the King. The King and my grandfather were quite close. They went to war together against the Scots. My grandfather saved the King’s life. The King only had a daughter at the time. He was especially worried about his own heirs, his legacy. As a result, when the contracts were signed granting my grandfather a duchy and the land and entailment that went with it, the King ensured there was a codicil that allowed for the duchy to be passed down via a female heirif and only ifa male heir existed on that side. You’re the male heir. Now that John is gone, you’re the next in line to the duchy.”
Sweat broke out on Mark’s brow. “No.” He shook his head emphatically. “There must be some mistake.” He stood and backed away from the bed, numbness spreading through his limbs.
Nicole rested her hand reassuringly on Mark’s shoulder. “Hear him out,” she whispered.
Mark swallowed hard. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. Inheriting a title wasn’t something he’d ever considered. His uncle had been the duke since his grandfather had died, and his uncle had a strong healthy son. Even if they both died, the normal line of succession didn’t pass down through a daughter. The possibility of becoming the duke had never been a threat.
Mark may not have grown up knowing the details ofthe aristocracy the way his uncle, cousin, and mother had, the way Nicole had, but he knew enough to know that. There was no chancehewould be the duke one day.
His uncle glanced at the paperwork strewn across the bed. “My solicitor brought this to me the minute I asked for it. The minute I heard John was dead. There is no mistake. See for yourself.” He clutched the stack of papers and held them out to Mark with trembling hands.
Breathing heavily, Mark hesitated before taking a step forward and reluctantly accepting the papers. He let his hand fall to his side, the papers still clutched in his fist. He didn’t want to look at them. “It cannot be.”
“Give them to me.” Nicole slid the papers from Mark’s numb fingers.
She went to stand near a brace of candles on a nearby table and scanned the pages, settling on the page that held the relevant information. She read for several seconds, mouthing the words on the page. “It’s true,” she finally said, looking up at Mark, her eyes wide. “It says here the next in line is the nextmaleregardless of his connection to the duke being from a male or female descendant.”
“Fine.” Mark, paced away from the bed and ran a hand through his hair. “I will renounce it. That’s been done before. If and when the day comes—” He glanced hesitantly at his obviously gravely ill uncle. “I will simply declare myself no longer the duke and give the title to whoever would be next after that, given that I have no heirs.” He glanced at Nicole. They would have to talk about it, obviously, but she could hardly object to their child not inheriting the duchy. She hadn’t knownwhen she’d married him thatthiswas a possibility. He hadn’t even known. Or had she?
“You cannot,” his uncle whispered through dry, cracked lips.
Mark continued pacing. “Of course I can. Even a king can abdicate a throne if he so chooses.”
“Mark, we tried to contact you all those years.” The old man’s voice was even weaker. “Your aunt and I, your cousins. Your mother refused us. She was a proud woman. But we never stopped loving her… or you.”
Mark turned away from his uncle and closed his eyes. His pulse pounded. Nausea roiled in his middle. He didn’t want to hear this. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”
“Listen to me, Mark. Mary and I made amends. When she was dying, you were in Spain, fighting. You couldn’t come home.”
“I know that,” Mark ground out. He didn’t need to be reminded of any of these awful things.
“What you don’t know is that I promised your mother on her deathbed, if this moment ever came to pass, I would convince you to take up your birthright. For her sake. That’s what she wanted, Mark. That’s what she asked for.”
Several moments ticked by in silence. He clenched his fists so tightly they ached. His jaw did too. He wanted to smash something. What the hell was happening? How had his life been turned upside down in less than one hour? Damn his uncle and his deuced deathbed promises.
