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James turned toward the frightened family. "You will return home," he said, his voice gentler. "I will pay for your journey and compensate you for the distress my uncle has caused you."

He turned toward the staircase. "Mr. Trembly. Mr. Gibbs." His two footmen that had traveled with him and Olivia from Glenmore, appeared almost immediately.

James pointed toward the Bells. "Mr. Trembly, find out where this family and the wet nurse have been staying and escort them there. Make certain they have everything they require for their journey home."

Trembly bowed. "Yes, Your Grace."

James looked at Gibbs. "You remain with me." The footman stepped forward as Trembly escorted the Bells and the wet nurse from the house.

Only when the doors closed behind them did James feel Olivia's hand gently touch his arm. He looked down at her fingers resting against his sleeve, and an unexpected ache moved through him.

She is here. She has stayed. In the midst of everything that has just been ripped apart, Olivia is the one person who has not abandoned me. She stands beside me, where I need her.

James had spent his life believing family was something that could only wound him, but now, when he had almost no one left who he could trust, her presence brought him an extraordinary sense of comfort.

She and Felix are the only family that matter now.

He turned slowly toward Hubert. "Why?" James asked.

His voice was quieter than before, and somehow that made the question more devastating. He stared at the man who had been like a father to him. "Why would you do this?"

Hubert's face remained hard, his anger no longer disguised. "Because you never deserved the title," he spat. "You were the second-born son. You simply got lucky."

James stared at him, unable to comprehend the words. "Lucky?" he repeated, almost whispering. "My mother and my brother died. You call that lucky?"

Something inside him shifted as the words left his mouth. Then he gasped.

The anonymous letters. The threats. The warning that a duke with secrets did not deserve his title. The strange knowledge someone possessed about my birth. The relentless attempts to undermine my position.

James looked at Hubert and suddenly saw the answer that had been standing before him all along.

My uncle has been behind it. My uncle has been trying to destroy me.

"You," James said quietly, his face draining of color. "It was you."

Hubert said nothing.

James took one slow step toward him. "The letters. The threats. Everything." His voice hardened. "You used my tenants, forced them from their home and manipulated their testimony. You acted illegally against people who pay rent to me and whose property you had no authority to control." James's eyes hardened as his shock gave way to certainty. "You used your position and my family's name to frighten innocent people. You will go to prison for this."

Hubert gave a bitter laugh.

"You think your title will save you?" James demanded, stepping closer. "No," he replied coldly. "The law will decide what happens to you."

Yet even as he said it, James struggled to comprehend the man standing before him. How could Hubert be so consumed by resentment that he valued James's estate above his own freedom? How could the man who had once held James like a son now threaten everything James had inherited and built?

James glanced at Olivia, and her presence steadied him once more. He had lost the family he thought he had, but perhaps that was not the same as having no family at all. His gaze returned to Hubert, and for the first time in his life, James felt no need to earn his uncle's approval.

"You spent your entire life thinking I did not deserve what I inherited," he said quietly. "But you are wrong. I did not steal my brother's life. I did not steal my title. And I will not allow you to steal my family's inheritance."

Chapter Thirty

Olivia watched James as though she were seeing him for the first time. He had every reason to lose control, and still he had chosen restraint. Olivia realized that James's goodness had never come from an easy life. He had built it himself.

"Mr. Gibbs," James said, turning toward his footman with quiet authority, "call for the constables."

Gibbs straightened immediately. "Yes, Your Grace," he replied with a firm nod, before turning toward the door.

Hubert's expression changed instantly. "The constables will do nothing!" he shouted, his composure finally shattering. He stepped toward James, his face flushed with fury. "You have no authority to do anything at all. You are nothing but a foolish second son who happened to inherit what was never meant for him."