The Seduction of a Duke (44 page)

William stiffened, struggling to digest her words. “Wait . . . let me understand this. You went with Randolph
willingly
? You wrote that letter
willingly
? You destroyed my sanity, my desire to go forward
willingly
? All to avoid some silly scandal?”

“It was not an easy decision, Your Grace,” she replied calmly. “It would not have seemed silly to you of all people. I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” His voice rose. “You sought to destroy me in the name of protection?”

She sucked in her lower lip. Her eyes betrayed that his words had stung. Which was just as well. He wanted her to feel a bit of the pain she’d caused by her willing escapade. Nicholas placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Let her continue, William.”

He crossed his arms in front of him and waited. How could she? How could she do this to him? Her gaze flicked his way a moment before she glanced away, focusing instead on the view outside the window.

“A diary has surfaced that belonged to your mother, Grace Chambers, the Duchess of Bedford.” Her lower lip trembled. “In the diary, she reveals that the old Duke is not your father.”

William barked a laugh. “Preposterous! You’re saying that my mother had a tryst and I was the result?” He shook his head. “Have you not looked at my brother? Is it not evident that we are the sons of the same father?”

Even Nicholas managed a nervous smile.

Franny gazed at him, her face a mask of solemnity. “You are.”

The silence lasted the space of two rapid heartbeats, then she added, “The old Duke was impotent.”

Damnation!

“I think you’ve taken the fairy tale a bit far this time,” William said with censure. “This is not America. Bloodlines are taken seriously here especially when titles and inheritance issues are at stake.”

She caught his gaze and held it, but didn’t say a word. She just waited. A cold dread settled in his stomach. She was deadly serious.

“You say there is evidence of this?” Nicholas asked.

“There’s a diary, and it’s in the possession of Lady Mandrake. She found it hidden in a secret safe in the old Duke’s bedroom.”

“A secret safe? I’ve been in that room a number of times. There’s no safe there,” William protested.

“It was behind the coat of arms that I had removed to the ballroom.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I’m so sorry, William. My interference caused this mess.”

“The old Duke was not our father?” he said, letting the concept sink in. It would explain, perhaps, the anger and almost hatred, sometimes unleashed on his sons. Perhaps it explained as well the old Duke’s constant chiding that William wasn’t good enough to carry the title.

“What about Arianne?” Nicholas asked. “Is she our sister? Or perhaps our half sister?”

“She is your sister. Your mother came to love the man she’d chosen to sire her sons. Your sister was the consequence of her continued affair with him.”

“It explains why the old Duke never kept any portrait or record of our mother,” William observed to Nicholas.

“It explains many things,” Nicholas replied.

William’s shoulder ached. He rubbed the familiar spot.
You’re the eldest. You belong to me. I will have one. You’re responsible. You can never turn away.

Franny looked pointedly at his shoulder, then caught his gaze. Yes. It explained many things.

“I asked Bertie,” she said, watching him intently. “Hypothetically, of course, that if a child sired by another man was born to a duke, wouldn’t that child still be considered the legal heir to that duke? He said that this would be correct.”

“You asked Bertie if Nicholas and I were considered legitimate because of this sudden revelation?” He could feel his anger mounting again.

“I believe he thought I was asking under the assumption that Randolph forced himself upon me,” she said. “If a child were to result, would that child be your heir?”

“And, of course, the answer would be yes.” He glanced at Franny. “I had considered such a consequence when I thought you were pregnant by another.” He thought he’d be able to treat that child as he would one of his own. He supposed the old Duke felt similarly. Inasmuch as he and his brother never suspected another sired them, the old Duke was successful on some level—but unsuccessful on others.

“So you see, you are still the Duke,” she said, her lips turned in a weak smile. “Nothing has changed.”

But everything had changed. Perhaps not in a legal fashion, but in a more fundamental way. He hadn’t the bloodlines of the ancestors hanging in portraits on the wall. The abbey was filled with people he thought were his relatives, but no longer. In his darkest moments, he couldn’t trust that his instincts had been honed by generations of past peers.

“Do you know,” Nicholas asked, “who our real father is?”

“It was not disclosed in the diary,” she said, “but yes, I know who your father is.”

“Is he an earl, or perhaps another duke?” William asked. “I would assume our mother would have turned to another titled peer.”

Franny just shook her head. William had an awful feeling that he knew why Thackett was ensconced in the library. He turned to Franny, scrutinizing her face, asking without words if the man down the hall was his father.

A knock on the door caused everyone to jump a little in their skins. Franny opened the door, thanked the person on the other side, then closed it again. She held a journal in her hand. “This is your mother’s diary. I’m going to leave it here so you two can read it to verify that what I’ve said is true.”

She caught his gaze, and he knew there would be no need to scrutinize the pages. She wouldn’t have left him if she hadn’t believed the legitimacy of the diary. It pained her that she was inadvertently hurting him.

“I have some other matters to attend to,” she said.

William started forward, his heart in his throat. “I’ll go with you.”

“No.” She placed a restraining hand on his chest. “Stay here.” She gazed up at him, her eyes so full of hope and hurt. “I promise. I won’t leave the abbey.” Her lips twisted in a small nervous smile. “And if I’m forced, I shall scream bloody murder.”

Then she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him, a quick kiss, a promise. He raised a brow, imploring her to return, and she said the most damnable thing. She said, “That’s how I knew he was your father.”

SHE PAUSED OUTSIDE THE STUDY TO TAKE A BREATH. The worst was over. William and Nicholas knew that their family was not as they had believed them to be. She went to the library where Thackett had assembled a large stack of books beside him. He obviously expected to wait there for some time. He glanced up from a copy of
Great Expectations
.

“I will always value this gift she left me,” he said with a sad smile.

It was a gift, Fran realized. The gift of an education, the gift of life experiences. That’s what her parents had given her. She hadn’t really appreciated that until she met this man who gave up his own children so they could have those benefits.

“I’ve told William and Nicholas that the old Duke was not their true father. They are reading their mother’s diary now so they can see for themselves.”

Thackett nodded. “Have they asked about me?”

“They asked if I knew who their father was. I said I did but I haven’t told them about you.” She caught his gaze so he’d understand. “I need for them to specifically ask. They may choose never to know.”

Thackett’s lips tightened. He’d come so close to acknowledging himself to his sons. It would be a shame if they decided to remain in ignorance. At least, he’d be able to share his heavy burden with her.

“William suspects,” Fran said. She could almost read his thoughts. “But he may take some convincing.”

Thackett smiled, so obviously proud of his sons. “Grace always said William was the practical one. He weighed all aspects of a problem and then chose the solution for himself and his siblings. He always watched over his brother and sister. He was the responsible one.”

Yes. That would be her William. She felt a moment’s yearning to have been able to talk to his mother, to learn a mother’s knowledge about the man she loved so dearly.

“May I get you something to make you more comfortable while you wait?” she asked. “Something to drink or eat?” From the sunlight in the windows behind him, the kitchens would be fully functioning, preparing a breakfast buffet for the guests. Guests she’d yet to meet.

“You’ve already given me so much,” Thackett said. “You’ve relieved this heavy burden I’ve carried alone all these years. You’ve told me of my children and their children. I shall be indebted to you always, Your Grace.”

She smiled. “I preferred it when you called me Missy. It is my father’s pet name for me.”

“It’s what I called Grace before she became the Duchess.” They both smiled at that. Sometimes life spins in a circle.

“I see you’re still wearing that rope bracelet,” he said. “I can take it off of you now, if you like.”

She raised her arm, looking at the dangling length. “It’s loose enough that I forget it’s there.” She glanced up. “I think I should let William remove it. He needs a reminder that I was forced to do the things I did.”

She left Thackett and headed upstairs. She wanted to check that safe before any more incriminating evidence slipped into some other unsavory hands.

 

 

WILLIAM HAD READ ENOUGH TO KNOW THE TRUTH OF Franny’s words. There could be no denial. He hadn’t the pedigree bloodline that he had believed he possessed. He left Nicholas in the study reading the diary and walked down to the library. The older man he’d known all his life as just “that old farmer” sat in a chair, his nose buried in a book.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” William asked from the doorway. “You’re my father.”

Thackett lowered the book and smiled. “Your wife asked me in precisely those words.” William did not return his levity. Thackett nodded, closed the book, then placed it on the table. William closed the door and joined him.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said. “The Duchess of Bedford sought me out for the purpose of producing a child—for producing you.”

“Did you love her? My mother?” William challenged.

“Very much. My eyes once had that same light that I see in yours when you look upon your wife.” His face softened as if from a fond memory.

“Damnation!” William replied. “Why didn’t you say something before? Why did you allow me to believe you were just a tenant farmer?”

“Would you have believed me if I did?” Thackett asked. William had to concede he had a point.

“I am who I am, son. I haven’t your education, your knowledge, your polish. I’m a farmer, and the proud father of two strong men and a daughter.”

So many thoughts raced through William’s fatigued head about bloodlines and history. He couldn’t keep them straight. But he had one overriding question. “Tell me exactly what happened tonight.”

And so Thackett did. William’s blood boiled anew when Thackett mentioned the rope, and Franny’s tears at being forced to leave him in the name of protection.

“But how did she know it was you?” William asked as the story ended.

“I’m not sure,” Thackett admitted. “She said it had to do with my sketches on the wall, and that I’ve lived here all my life, and something about the way I looked.” He raised his brows in confusion.

“Yes, she said something similar to me,” William said, still trying to make the connection. How did she, a relative newcomer, discover this decades-old secret, while he still couldn’t see the similarities?

“Your wife is an amazing woman,” Thackett said. “You’re fortunate to have her.”

“I know,” William answered absently.

“I don’t think you do,” Thackett replied.

That brought his head up. He wasn’t used to having anyone contradict him, much less a tenant farmer.

“That girl went through hell for you, lad,” Thackett said. “You could see her heart dying in her eyes for what she was forced to do to protect your name. Coming back to you was no easy task either. She’s a strong woman and she loves you in a way that only comes once in a lifetime.”

William hung his head. He’d been so focused on Franny’s revelations he hadn’t given much thought to what she had gone through.

“If you understood how truly fortunate you were,” Thackett said, “you would not be sitting here talking to an old farmer who lives a very short distance away.”

William glanced up, surprised to be receiving such good advice from this source.

“Don’t waste these moments, son. You don’t know what’s around the bend.”

The old Duke never referred to him as son. That Thackett did was a strange and unfamiliar comfort. But one he’d be willing to get used to. He stood, having made up his mind.

“Come with me. I would like to introduce you to your other son.”