“We believed you were dead,” she breathed as Brynn pulled back the chair and helped her into it with a hand on her elbow.
Phillip gathered his power of speech then. “Merciful angels, itisyou. We hoped only to ask. We didn’t expect—” He glanced down at Maddy. “Perhaps we’ve both seen a ghost.”
Gideon studied at him intently. “Phillip? Of course it’s you. Alyx said the Duke of Glenmoor wished to see me. I expected—but I should have known the vile old man will have died by now.” He stiffened his back at his own words. “Don’t ask me to apologize for that,” he spat through clenched teeth.
Phillip raised both hands, palms out, in front of him. “I wouldn’t. We need truth right now, above all else. May we sit?”
That seemed to rouse Gideon—Phillip’s brother, Maddy remembered, emotion threatening to choke her. “Would you like a brandy? I’ll ask Alyx…” He waved vaguely toward the outer office, his eyes never leaving Phillip.
Rhys glanced at Brynn, hovering behind Maddy. “Perhaps my brother and I should leave the three of you alone. You probably have much to discuss.”
“Morgan? I’m sorry I didn’t see you standing there. What—But she announced Glenmoor. I didn’t expect to see you. I didn’t expect—” Gideon broke off to stare at Phillip and swallow deeply. “I’m babbling. The duke and I need to talk, and I suspect you are correct. Let me make you comfortable in the outer office.”
Gideon moved from behind the desk with more speed and grace than Maddy remembered and opened the door. He tossed a sad smile at Rhys. “Maybe we’ll have a moment later to discuss our experience with Davy lamps. I will be eternally grateful to you for bringing them to my attention.”
Gideon and Rhys had been familiar colleagues all along. The idea churned up Maddy’s maelstrom of emotions.
Brynn leaned down from behind her, his breath warm against her cheek. “Will you be well? Shall I stay?”
“Go with your brother.” She touched the hand on her shoulder. “I will be well. It will help to know you’re nearby.”
“Her Grace will be perfectly safe, Colonel Morgan,” Phillip said.
After a moment, Brynn followed his brother out. Phillip’s deliberate smile when he peered back at her failed to reassure as fully as he probably intended, darkened as it was with the same confusion roiling through Maddy.
Gideon returned, and the woman he called Alyx followed with a decanter and three crystal glasses on a finely carved wooden tray, which she put on the massive walnut desk before departing and closing the door behind her with a snick.
Gideon paused by Phillip, the two eyeing each other warily. When Phillip relaxed on a sigh and reached to give Gideon an awkward hug, the older man didn’t pull away. “We’ve been looking for you,” Phillip said when they separated. Gideon eyed his brother intently, and Maddy could almost hear his mind askingWhy now?, though he didn’t say it.
He limped to the desk and poured three brandies. “We’re in need of fortification for this conversation,” he said. No one argued. When he handed one to Maddy without waiting for her nod, she was grateful for it.
The niceties accomplished, he stepped around his desk to sit in his high-backed chair, peering at each of them, as stern as a schoolmaster facing two disagreeable children. The looming conversation would not be easy. “So tell me now. What is it you want from me?”
“Only the truth,” Phillip said. “My father told us you were dead.”
“As you see, that is not so.” Kendrick stared from one to the other as if he disbelieved his eyes. “It never occurred to you to search?”
Maddy’s fog—joy, relief, and triumph muddled with confusion and discomfort—dissipated, dread emerging from the cloud. “No, to my dishonor. When the old duke died, I was wrapped in my own misery. I fled Woodglen and all things Glenmoor. I—” The words stuck in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “I failed to consider anyone but myself.”
She glanced between Phillip and Gideon. Shame washed over her. Her eyes darted to her hands, clasped in her lap, and back up to Gideon Kendrick. “I should have.” Moisture pooled in her eyes.
“No, Madelyn. I should have,” Phillip said decisively, reaching for her hand. “I am the duke. It was—it is—my responsibility.”
She saw sympathy lurking in Kendrick’s—Gideon’s—eyes, familiar and yet those of a stranger. Still, he didn’t speak. Her heart lurched.Gideon; this isGideon!
“I should have known better,” Phillip murmured, shaking his head. “I should have known he’d lied.”
Gideon gazed implacably back at them.Why now?The words hung, unspoken, in the air around them.
“Gideon, what happened that night?” The question was torn from Maddy’s heart before she thought. She turned to Phillip. “Gideon was—”
“I know. Found in your room. My father used words about it so crude I had to ask one of the grooms to explain it. He laughed at me.” He had been eighteen, about to embark on university. His face colored at the memory. He peered directly at Gideon. “I didn’t believe it then. I don’t believe it now.”
“You came to warn me about something, didn’t you?” Maddy asked.
Gideon nodded solemnly without speaking.
He was going to give you to his disgusting cronies, Maddy. Gideon must have heard them.She had long suspected it. The letter had protected her from more than Randolph’s attentions.
