She dropped her gaze to her lap at that and sighed. She turned her head back to peer at him directly. “You are correct. However, I had other worries, and it didn’t occur to me to question it until this Jessop turned up in London. Now I—”
She rose to her feet and paced to the window, her skin tingling with the sure knowledge of his eyes on her, watching her every move. She gave a shuddering sigh, desperate to make him understand. “Now I wonder. If Gideon lives, he has a right to know. I should have done something before. I realize that now. I failed both of them.” She spun around to glare at him, daring him to judge her. “My marriage, you will have guessed, was…difficult. I got in the habit of checking Randolph’s desk to have warning when some of his more dissolute friends were coming or when some business setback would send his volatile temper on a rampage so I could protect myself and his sons as best I could. One day, I discovered his secret panel. When I found the letter, all I could think of was using it as leverage. Once I had it secured and he couldn’t find it, Randolph…” She swung back to the window, sorting her word choices carefully, cheeks burning. “He left me alone, and Phillip’s life eased.”
“And now—” He had come up behind her. She felt his nearness along the length of her back.
“Now I’ve seen Phillip. Jessop confronted him and referred to Gideon as the duke. Phillip came so I could reassure him that Gideon was dead and had been a bastard in any case.”
“Did you?” His voice was as soft as a caress.
“That Gideon was dead, yes.”
“You knew all along that Gideon was not a bastard, however. You know full well what that means. Whether the older brother is alive or dead. No matter what the Committee for Privileges thought—”
She turned so quickly he took a step back. “All we really have is a letter that doesn’t clearly state when Gideon’s mother died.”
“The implication is she died just before the letter was written in 1793.” The man’s merciless logic stabbed at her slipping control.
“Yes. Is that what you want me to say? Phillip is a bastard.” She choked on the ugly truth, her voice a raspy growl. “Phillip’s mother’s marriage was never valid.”
“Jessop likely was a witness. He may have come prepared with proof. But I suspect you know that in your heart of hearts.”
“What difference does it make now? Gideon is dead.”
“Even if he is, Phillip Tavernash has no right to the title. He probably knows that or at least fears it.”
“You heard David—the Crown won’t take back the title once it was confirmed by the Committee for Privileges and wouldn’t be happy to have scandal raked up. Neither would the Duke of Hopewell, who could block Phillip’s plans to offer for his granddaughter. He…”
“Glenmoor is hanging back because he has doubts about his moral standing. He may have more character than his sire.”
She nodded, fighting tears, her lower lip clenched between her teeth.
“Your Grace, Randolph Tavernash perpetrated fraud. The only honorable thing is to bring this into the open.” His words sounded as cold and unyielding as a steel bar to Maddy.
“Honorable, maybe, but heartless! What of poor Phillip? I won’t be the instrument that throws him to the wolves!”
“Concealing it makes you a party to fraud, no matter what the Crown does about the title. Can you live with that lie?”
“Yes, I can. It hurts no one—there isn’t even a cousin waiting in the wings whose rights were denied. And so can you. You promised me you would tell no one what I told you.”
The warmth in his eyes faded, cold resolve replacing the care and concern she had longed for and leaned on. “You can’t ask me to lie. I won’t.”
“I ask only that you tell no one about this letter.”
“What if Gideon Jessop is alive? Have you considered that?”
Her heart froze in her chest, seized with torment. Gideon didn’t deserve his fate any more than Philip did.
*
How can thiswoman ask me to suppress information about a crime? The old duke’s fraud reeks of dishonor.Brynn felt sick at heart watching the pedestal on which he had placed the duchess fall to pieces. The flesh and blood woman in front of him appeared ready to crumble as well.
“What if Gideon Jessop is alive? Have you considered that?” he growled. “Randolph Tavernash was obviously a worthless excuse for a man. He would lie if it suited him. Didn’t you tell your brothers he despised the man? Called him a half-wit?”
Anguish washed over her. He reached out a hand, but she shook it off and squared her shoulders.
“If!” She shouted the word, shuddered, and went on more quietly. “If he’s alive, he has a right to know. And yes, Randolph despised Gideon. He had a crooked spine and a mangled leg, but he didn’t lack sense no matter what Randolph said. He might have been slow to speak, but his eyes gleamed with intelligence. Randolph had no reason to declare him ineligible. He has a right to know. I admit it. Are you satisfied?” She glared daggers at him.
Brynn ran a hand around his neck in frustration. “You need to know one way or the other before you decide what to do about the letter. I gave my word I wouldn’t speak of it until you decide. After that it depends what you do.” He met her eyes then, and the determination in hers didn’t waver. Lie or no lie, he had to admire her loyalty to her stepsons—both of them. He didn’t envy the conflict.
