She’d prove her worth and convince them they needed her. They couldn’t officially hire a woman, but they could accept her help and give her a share of the bounty. She readily accepted.
After working out the particulars, Daffin had set to work teaching her. He showed her techniques of watching people, questioning suspects, establishing alibis, tracking people down, and searching for clues. She’d had many good instincts on her own, but with his help she’d exceeded expectations. By the time she’d been working with him for two years, she was one of the finest of the lot, according to Daffin. Which was why thenight she’d met Mark, she’d been chasing the servant out to the mews with nary a thought.
She’d hoped Mark would be proud of her accomplishments. She’d thought he’d look at her with more pride and respect. Instead, when he discovered her affiliation with Bow Street, it was just another strike against her. She’d been asked to work for the War Office through a connection of Daffin’s, and after she and Mark had their falling-out, she took it. She had more reasons than one to leave England.
***
“I want to help too,” Regina said, snapping Nicole from her thoughts again.
Nicole furrowed her brow. “Help with what?”
“I want to help discover who murdered Cousin John.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Mark provided Oakleaf the directions to the sunroom where he’d last seen Nicole. He was sorely tempted to go with him and witness his loving wife’s reaction to seeing the Bow Street Runner again, but he didn’t want to have to punch Oakleaf in the face when the man was doing his family a favor by being here. And at the moment Mark was even more curious about something else.
He stared at the letter that sat untouched on his uncle’s desk. He slowly placed his hand atop the aged parchment, then snatched it away as if he’d been stung by a wasp. Damn it. How did a dead man still have this power over him? This was just a piece of paper. It meant nothing.
Drawing a deep breath, he pulled the letter toward him, carefully unfolded the parchment, and scanned the words. Bloody hell.
Mark,
If you’re reading this then I am gone. Your parents are also dead. I am sorry. I know how difficult it is. The same thing happened to me when I was a young man in my early twenties. I had no idea how to be a duke then, Mark. The truth is, there are days I still think I don’t know how. Your mother and I never had a simple relationship. She seemed hell-bent on defying every one of my wishes and I was too much of a fool to let it go. If I could go back now and see her again, I’d tell her that. Alas, I cannot.
I did not know your father well. I’m certain he was a good man. I do know that he adored your mother and while that should have been enough for me, at the time, it was not. I have lived with that regret all these years. I also know your father was a proud man. Your mother told me that he asked you to never rely on our side of the family. It’s a sentiment I cannot blame him for. But what you don’t understand is the importance of family to me too. I love both of my children more than my own life. The fact that I didn’t always agree with your mother’s actions is what pulled us apart and it is what I regret now more than anything.
I am asking you, Mark, to consider this side of your family now. Mary and I spoke just before she died. I told her I loved her. She said the same to me. Your uncle was there too. She asked both of us, should the need ever arise, to convince you to take up your rightful place in this family and become the duke. Hence, my writing this letter.
I know becoming the duke is probably the last thing you want to do, but think of your mother. It was not her fault that I pushed her away out of my vanity and need to control everything. I’m told that you’re like me in that way, that you also like to control things. If so, I think you’ll make a fineduke. I can only hope you learn from my mistakes. Do not push away the people you love and who love you because they refuse to be the people whom you think they should be. The duchy of Colchester needs you. Your mother, who never asked anything from you in life, needs you. Do not let her down.
Bloody hell. Frustration and rage roiled from the pit of Mark’s stomach and soared up his throat. He wanted to yell. He wanted to punch his fist through the nearest wall. The only thing that could counteract his father’s deathbed request was the same request from hismother. The papers slid through his hands and fluttered to the desktop. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes closed. He hadn’t even been there to hear his mother ask him. He hadn’t been there for her, to hold her hand and tell her he loved her as she died. He’d had to hear about it after the fact.
At least she hadn’t been alone. Apparently, she’d reconciled with her family before she died. But damn it, why, why did this have to be the case? He’d had his life carefully planned for years now and none of it involved his taking up the duchy of Colchester. None of it.
His head still bowed, he opened his eyes and stared at the papers in front of him. Although his grandfatherhad signed his letter, there was another page. Squinting, he pushed the first page aside and stared at the last page for several seconds before it registered that it was written in another hand.
His mother’s hand.
“No,” he whispered, closing his eyes again briefly. Anything but this.
He took a deep, fortifying breath and forced himself to concentrate on the page. The vellum trembled like a leaf in the breeze in his unsteady hands.
My darling Mark,
You’re in Spain now. My illness is progressing and I fear I will not see you again. There are things I must say to you. Things you don’t know. Your father and I loved you dearly of course, but I was the one who pushed away my family. I rejected them when they tried to make amends. It wasn’t the other way around. I regret that now, Mark, because I want you to know them. I want you to be connected to them. They love you. I know if you will give them a chance they will show you that. I regret that you grew up not knowing your cousins. I regret that you grew up not knowing your aunt and uncle. I sorely regret that you grew up not knowing your grandfather, due to my choices, not theirs and not yours. I know your father asked you to never rely on them. I would not ask that of you either. But what I do ask you, Mark, what I need from you, is to allow them to rely onyou.If you’re reading this it’s because John is dead. I asked Edward to give you this letter. You’ve already proven yourself in this world, Mark. You’ve made yourself the man you are without any help from my family. The time has come for you to help them, however, and I am asking you, I am begging you not to turn your back on them. For my sake. I know you will do the right thing. Duty has always been important to you. Your duty now is to take up the title of Duke of Colchester when the time comes.
Love forever, Your Mother
Mark folded the letter and expelled his breath in a rush. Leave it to the members of the aristocracy to do things like write heart-wrenching letters to be produced in the event that an heir died. They were constantly planning to secure their titles.
Bloody hell. Part of him had hoped that his uncle had been lying. That his grandfather had been lying. That his mother hadn’t really reconciled with them. It would make the entire thing much easier to deal with. He could reject them and feel right about the whole thing. But there was no mistake. The words he’d just read were in his beloved mother’s handwriting. The tone of the letter was in her sweet voice. There was no way this wasn’t real. His mother had died of consumption. She’d been of sound mind when she went. She knew what she was doing and she’d asked him on her deathbed to let her family rely onhim.
He folded his arms across the desktop and let his head drop onto them. Damn it all to hell. This changedeverything.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Nicole blinked furiously at Regina. “What? How did you—”
