Or into the mines, Maddy thought, unable to formulate a response.
Gideon confronted Phillip, angry but not without sympathy. “I take it from your expression and the way you stormed out of the house that Maddy’s little story was news to you as well.”
Phillip nodded miserably. “Yes. But I believe it. Our sire perpetrated misery on all of us, you more than any other. He would do this thing, Gideon. He would. We need to figure out what to do about it.”
“Nothing. We do nothing. You continue to do whatever it is dukes do. I have collieries to manage. Three, as it happens.”
The flicker of hope in Phillip’s eyes died quickly. “It won’t serve forever. Jessop is out there, perhaps with proof, making trouble. Besides, you’re entitled to benefit from the estate. You always were.”
Gideon snorted. “I don’t need some pitiful allowance,” he sneered.
Maddy had no answer for that. She felt heat, born of shame, creep up her neck.
Phillip balked at his brother’s attitude. “You’re a Tavernash, Gideon, and—”
“Never! Daniel Kendrick was more father to me than your sire ever was.”
“It doesn’t matter, and it changes nothing!” Phillip shouted. “There’s still Jessop out there, if he chooses to make a stink and the Committee for Privileges—explain it to him, Maddy.” He glowered at her, arms folded defiantly in front of him.
A quick glance at Brynn might fortify her, but he could be no real help. It was Rhys who spoke up. “Perhaps we should sit. Let Her Grace have tea while it is still hot. Then she can speak to the matter. My brother and I should leave you privacy.”
“Stay.” Gideon didn’t so much as glance at Rhys. “You’ve already heard our family’s worst. Of that I have no doubt.” Though mutinous, Gideon complied with Rhys’s suggestion to sit. Phillip, sunk in gloom, followed.
Brynn helped Maddy to her seat, his hand warm on her back, and took up station nearby. She couldn’t see his expression but took strength from his nearness. She used the familiar ritual of pouring tea to gather her nerves.
Gideon waited until the last cup had been handed over before his words burst out. “I don’t know what Glenmoor thinks you can say to me. I won’t relent.”
“Call me Phillip. I’m your brother, damn it.”
Maddy raised a hand to silence Phillip. His obvious affection, warring though it was with the shock of her revelations, steadied her.
“Phillip is, without question, the Duke of Glenmoor. So the Committee for Privileges decreed, and so they devoutly hope it will remain. If we find further proof, Gideon, and if you wish to challenge it, the scandal would be massive and devolve on all of us. I’m relieved you do not wish to. Neither the Crown nor the Lords would welcome a challenge that would name them as mistaken to say the least.”
Gideon’s rigid posture softened fractionally. His expression remained mulish, but he didn’t interrupt.
“The fact remains you’ve been treated unjustly.”
“We all have,” Phillip muttered.
Maddy attempted a reassuring smile for him, her heart unrelentingly sad. “The two of you will have to work out between you what that means in practical terms, but there is more to think about than pride, justice, and whatever remnant of past affection lies between you.”
Phillip stiffened, and Gideon’s brows drew together in puzzlement. Maddy felt a reassuring squeeze of Brynn’s hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to go on. “Your children, Gideon. You may have no love for the late Duke of Glenmoor, but being a duke’s grandchild brings with it certain privileges. Your daughters might benefit from the association in marriage, for example.”
Gideon shook his head in denial.
“And what of Daniel? When it is time for the title to pass from Phillip to his heir…”
“It will go to his son,” Gideon snapped.
“Maybe. If I have one,” Phillip said. “And yours could challenge it. And what if I never have a son? Eloisa likely won’t have me now if she knows.”
Gideon opened his mouth to argue and shut it, truth sinking in. “Secrets like this don’t stay buried.”
“Any rumor Jessop spreads now would rise again then,” Maddy confirmed. “The committee is likely to be harsh in righting perceived wrongs at that point.”
Maddy’s hand shook when she lifted her cup in the long silence that followed. She had no solutions to offer, and neither, it appeared, did Phillip or Gideon. A moment later, she had cause to be glad Rhys Morgan had remained.
“You both should take time to think. You needn’t make decisions now.” Rhys’s common sense calmed them all.
