“Father said he died in an accident. Even if he didn’t, a bastard can’t inherit. A rude colonial might not know that, so I explained it to Jessop. The man actually laughed at me. I had to have him removed.”
She ignored the part about bastardy. Her own family tree was complex enough. But the laws of inheritance were clear. Even a “rude colonial” would know that. She had known it when she’d blackmailed her husband to leave her alone.
The information in the letter had shocked her, but she had recognized it as enough to upset Randolph’s carefully constructed life. She’d taken it as a tool to use against her husband. It had worked. Randolph had spared Maddy his visits to her bed and the back of his hand but not his scorn. She had hidden the letter—and the truth it contained—away carefully and hadn’t recalled it in years. She would rather forget it now and certainly hadn’t meant for Phillip to know what she had found. There was no point in hurting him. A twinge of guilt twisted her gut. She ignored it.Gideon is dead. The matter is closed.
“Has Jessop tried to contact you again?” she asked.
“One note. I gave it to my solicitors and sent them to warn him off.”
“Then the matter is closed. You have the power of the dukedom behind you.”
Phillip nodded glumly. “Madelyn, Gideonisdead, isn’t he?”
What had Randolph said when he’d sent him away?No nasty half-wit cripple is fit to be Duke of Glenmoor. She had puzzled over that until she’d found the letter, but by then Gideon had been dead. “Of course he is, Phillip. Your father told us so.”
His shoulders sagged in relief. A man preparing for marriage needed to know where he stood. He surprised her though. “Bad business, that. I loved Gideon. He was kind to me.”
He was kind to me too—up to the end.She wondered what she could say to that but didn’t have time to worry about it. Harris announced more visitors.
Lucy flew into the room without waiting. “David sent word you had arrived, Maddy. I hope you don’t mind me rushing in your first day home, but I—” She came to an abrupt stop at the sight of Glenmoor looming over the duchess.
“Glenmoor is just leaving. Come and be presented. Lady Lucy Benson, may I present the Duke of Glenmoor. Phillip, this is Lady Lucy Benson, the wife of my brother, Sir Robert Benson.”
Only the faintest flicker of an eye revealed his reaction to her acknowledgment of her bastard brother. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Benson. Your husband has become quite the fixture at diplomatic events.”
Lucy blushed, overcome to greet the magnificent creature that was the Duke of Glenmoor.
The duke bowed over Maddy’s hand and took his leave with a wish he might see her again, perhaps at some social event. She allowed him to think it. She had been fond of him once and was fast becoming so again. Perhaps he wasn’t wrong.
“My goodness. That was your stepson?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed, causing Maddy to chuckle.
“A beautiful creature but harmless, I assure you. Did you come alone, Lucy? Where is Rob?” Maddy asked.
“Rob is training with his men. You’ll be proud to know my maid came with me like a proper lady. And Morgan, of course.” Lucy beamed at her.
“Morgan?” Maddy’s breath caught. She couldn’t lie to herself. The hope that she might see him again had followed her all the way to London.
As if summoned by the word, Brynn Morgan appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling it. Her lips parted at the sight.
“He came to see David,” Lucy said.
Chapter Seven
Brynn, hovering inthe door to the drawing room, stepped aside to allow the dandified duke to depart. Clarion, who appeared to be hovering in the hallway, escorted Glenmoor to the door, leaving Brynn to wonder just what had been going on. Brynn hesitated at the entrance to the drawing room, filling his soul with the sight of the woman who had haunted his dreams for two weeks.
The duchess appeared pale to him and her smile forced. Or perhaps weary. He shook his head to remind himself of his place. Her visit with Glenmoor was not his business. Neither was her pallor.How well do you really know the woman?
“My goodness. That was your stepson?” Lady Benson’s astonishment mirrored Brynn’s.Trust Lucy to ask questions.He stilled himself to listen for the reply.
“A beautiful creature but harmless, I assure you. Did you come alone, Lucy? Where is Rob?” the duchess asked.
Lucy, bouncing with excitement at seeing her friend, chattered away. He wished she’d ask more about Glenmoor. He wished she hadn’t said his name.
“Morgan?” The duchess looked up and saw him then, eyes wide, and for a moment, he believed she was glad to see him. Their gazes held briefly before hers darted away. She might have been frank with Lucy but was unlikely to be now she had seen him. She reacted as if he was an intruder. And, of course, he was.
He came forward to bow over her hand, forcing her eyes back to his. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“Colonel Morgan. I wasn’t expecting you.” Her breathy voice wormed its way into his heart, and she didn’t break eye contact. After a moment—or perhaps an hour, at least in Brynn’s mind—she tugged the hand he’d held longer than manners dictated.
