“Her Grace will wish to see you.” Brynn was not entirely certain that was so. She had obviously spoken with Glenmoor, and it hadn’t gone well. His own relief shamed him. He wouldn’t have to decide. Madelyn had taken on the burden herself.
Kendrick drew breath and turned to the house. “How long have you known His Grace?”
“Less than two months.” Brynn kept step with him.
“And Madelyn?”
“Her brother is my friend. We met last year.”
“He’s an earl, isn’t he?” Kendrick, a man trying to get the lay of the land before plunging into battle, peered at him.
“One is. I don’t know Clarion well. Her, ah,otherbrother, Robert Benson, fought beside me in Spain.”
Kendrick appeared puzzled by the other brother, one he’d probably never heard of, but the door opened before he could probe further. Rhys’s jovial “Welcome, Kendrick! Come warm yourself” forced all other questions aside.
Brynn unwound his scarf and took Kendrick’s coat. “I’ll join you in a moment.” He spoke as if he merely meant to give the outer garments over to servants to dry, but a flash of royal blue in the dim hallway by Rhys’s study had caught his eye. When Madelyn didn’t rush forward to greet them, alarms sounded in his head.
He handed his coat and Kendrick’s off to a footman on his rush down the hallway. Before he could speak, Madelyn, his treasure, his true north—yes, his love—fell into his arms, clinging as if he was her only solace.
Perhaps for this one precious moment, I am.“I saw Glenmoor running from the house. You told him.”
She nodded against his shoulder. “His world came crashing down around him.” Her words, muffled against his coat, for his ears only, cost her dearly.
He gentled his hold and soothed a hand on her back, rather as he would a troubled child, though his body’s more primitive reaction to this woman—warm and pliant in his arms—belied that. He held her until her tense shoulders relaxed a bit and she raised her head, not quite pulling away. “I have to face Gideon.”
“Rhys is serving tea. There is no rush to confront—”
She pulled away and shook her head. “Best done quickly before I lose my nerve entirely.”
He cupped her cheek. “Do you want someone there? Rhys, perhaps, who knows the man. You can trust him.”
It hadn’t occurred to her. She blinked and stared at his cravat for a long moment. “He needs to hear it from me and then decide who else should hear it. Phillip is humiliated that you’ve known all along.”
He presented his arm, and they entered the drawing room together. Rhys and Kendrick rose to their feet.
“Madelyn, you still look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kendrick approached and took her hand. “This whole thing has been a shock to all of us.”
More than you know, Brynn thought, stepping back so she could speak to Kendrick. Rhys frowned at him, obviously puzzled.
“Come, sit and have some tea,” Kendrick said.
“I—I think we should speak privately first, Gideon. There are things I must tell you.” Brynn’s beloved looked like a woman going to her doom.
“What can you possibly have to say to me that has you in such a state?” Kendrick’s expression held only concern for Madelyn. He turned toward a settee, still clutching one hand, as if to lead her there.
“There’s nothing for it. Gideon is the Duke of Glenmoor. There is nothing more to be said.” Glenmoor, windblown and wild-eyed, glowered at them all from the doorway. Everyone froze. He shot a glance at the ceiling, stomped into the room, and added, “Stop staring. No one died. Someone fetch me a brandy.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Idon’t wantthe miserable, old man’s title! Phillip is welcome to it!” Gideon screwed up his face like a man who had eaten something vile.
After Phillip’s dramatic announcement had knocked the wind out of any statement Maddy could have made, she had responded, sick at heart, to Gideon’s demand to know what Phillip had meant. She had spelled out the bare bones of what they knew about Jessop’s accusations and the contents of the damnable letter.
“That’s it? You mean to upend all our lives over the word of Isaiah Jessop? The man’s a self-centered conniver out for his own good, and the letter you describe does not constitute proof of anything.”
He obviously loathed what he heard, and Maddy didn’t blame him. She didn’t need proof, however. She harbored no doubts. “Perhaps not, but—”
“Glenmoor didn’t acknowledge me. He tried to shove me under a rug.” Gideon clamped his jaw shut.
