Page 84

Frowning, he carefully extracted the page and the quill that lay beside it, ink-stained and still slightly tacky at the tip. He placed them on the desk along with the journal, staring at the page as comprehension slowly dawned.

The scrawl was unmistakable—his uncle-father’s angular hand, hastily looped and impatiently crossed. Brendan’s pulse quickened. It appeared the old man had been interrupted while writing, for the page bore scattered droplets of ink that obscured sections of the text like black teardrops. The pen had spattered. In his panic, the baron must have swept the unfinished letter into the drawer and closed it, sealing it away, perhaps in his final moments.

A dreadful weight settled in Brendan’s chest. This could be the answer. Or it could be something worse.

His breath grew shallow. For a long moment, he stared without truly seeing, his mind tightening around the implications.

The letter existed.

The mystery was not done.

A soft knock broke his trance, and he flinched.

The door opened, revealing Lily—now refreshed, her gown silken and her curls refreshed. She paused just inside the threshold, her gaze falling instantly to his face.

“What is it?” she asked, crossing the room in swift, graceful strides.

Brendan shook his head slowly. “I think I found the letter.”

She gasped, rushing forward to his side. “What? How?”

“There is a secret drawer,” he said quietly. “Where I keep my journal. When I opened it … I found this.”

He lifted the letter with fingers that trembled slightly.

He had never truly believed it would surface. Despite all their efforts—Briggs, Michaels, the endless search of Ridley House—he had considered it a rumor. A hope.

Lily wrapped her arm around his shoulders in a close, protective embrace.

“It will start everything up again,” she said softly.

He nodded.

“But eventually,” she whispered, “this story will end. And we shall have our lives ahead of us.”

Brendan turned his head to look at her. “We shall see what the baron had to say, then.”

Drawing a breath, he lifted the page and held it steady, her arm still draped across his back.

“It is addressed to the Home Secretary. Some of the words are obscured by the ink that soaked into the paper.”

Sir Robert Peel

London, July 19, 1821

Sir,

It has come - - my attention that the true heir to Lord - - - - - - - - has not been acknowledged.

I was speaking with his lordship before the coronation, and he informed me of his recent bout of ill health. He spoke fondly of his youngest brother, informing - - of his strength, intelligence, and wit at great length. There was no mention of his lordship’s middle brother, Peter, who you may be aware died near twenty years - - -.

Peter and I attended Oxford together, - - - his death was tragic - - - unexp- - - - -. I have thought of him often over the years, which is why I feel the need to pass this information - - - - - -u.

Before departing England, Peter married a wom- - of Catholic descent. She convert- - - - - - - - - were married - - - - - Church of England, before leaving our shores. I maintained correspondence with him until his death. He had written just months before his death to inform me of the birth of his son.

I cannot say for certain where the boy and his mother are - - - - - all these years, but he would be the true heir and I implore you to look into th- - matter. - - - - - - - - - is the true heir to the title of - - - - - and his father’s legacy cannot be ignored.

I understand the trials of being a second son, and I cann- - allow this matter to stand. Whether - - - - terrible injustice is a mistake due to ignorance of the child Peter sired, or a deliberate obfuscation of the facts, I must speak on my friend’s behalf. His son is the true heir and must be found immediately. I will locate our shared correspondence when I return to Somerset and have them forwarded to - - - - - - - - - - -