To Desire a Wicked Duke (32 page)

If so, then she could possibly confirm what she was beginning to believe: That for some inexplicable reason of his own, Ian had spent years aiding her causes through his lawyers.

She directed Spruggs to take her to Fanny’s nearby boardinghouse at once. While waiting for Basil to return home, she visited with Fleur and Chantel, the two aging courtesans who had mentored a young Fanny at the beginning of her career and who now supervised her lodgers.

When Basil arrived shortly before supper time, Tess explained her suspicions about the duke’s solicitor. And since he was a quick study, he instantly understood her desire to know if her husband was the enormously generous benefactor who had anonymously supported her charities for years.

“What do you wish me to do, your grace?” Basil asked simply.

“Can you tell me where Rotham’s account books are kept?” she replied. “I maintain a record of the major contributions my charities have received over the years. If I could check his accounts and compare entries to see if the same sums were paid to his solicitor around various dates, then it would confirm my theory.”

Frowning, Basil shifted uneasily in his seat. “I only hold a junior position in the duke’s household, so I don’t yet know where his staff keeps his account books. I could inquire, certainly, but I dislike betraying the duke’s trust. And then there is—”

Even before Basil stopped abruptly, Tess could see his obvious reluctance. “There is what, Mr. Eddowes?” she prodded.

“You do realize I could be dismissed for prying into the duke’s financial affairs?”

It was Tess’s turn to frown. She was not asking him to pry, only to help
her
to pry. But perhaps there was little difference.

Then Basil hastened to add, “But of course I will do anything you ask. Indeed, I would not even have the post of his secretary if not for you.”

“No, I have changed my mind.” She didn’t want to cause trouble for Basil, especially not when he was just beginning his new life with Fanny. “Never mind. It isn’t important.”

“I can see it is exceedingly important to you, your grace.”

It was desperately important to her, but rather than say so, Tess fell silent. Basil knew her marriage to Ian was not a love match, but that didn’t mean she felt comfortable discussing her marital problems with anyone but her closest friends.

“Is there no other way to gain the evidence you seek?” Basil asked, still intent on helping her.

“Perhaps.” She could question Mr. Grimshaw, but his loyalties doubtless lay with his employer, and he would probably not be forthcoming. Worse, he might
report her peculiar interest to Ian before she had a chance to question him.

She wanted the element of surprise when she confronted her husband. Ian might try to fob off her queries, and she urgently needed to see his expression and judge his reaction for herself.

“With all due respect,” Basil added with obvious concern, “could you not simply ask the duke directly when he returns to London?”

“I intend to,” Tess said, pressing her lips together with resolve.

One way or another she meant to get to the bottom of Ian’s secrecy and discover if and why he had been deceiving her all these many years.

From the moment she began suspecting Ian’s subterfuge, Tess felt fretful and on edge. Doubtless she was a fool to long for his return, but she was anxious to understand his motives if he had deceived her.
Not
, Tess firmly told herself, because she keenly missed him.

Perhaps her unease was due in part to the fact that she had to settle into Ian’s magnificent ducal mansion in Cavendish Square. She claimed her own suite of rooms, but without his presence, she found it awkward to establish herself with the large staff, who were much more formal than the friendly servants in his remote castle in Cornwall.

At least she had Dorothy for companionship. When Ian finally did arrive home Friday afternoon, Tess was out making calls with the elder lady. Upon being informed that the duke was in his study, Tess excused herself to Dorothy, then handed over her outer garments to the lofty butler and went in search of her husband.

The study door was closed, but when she rapped
lightly, she was bid entrance at once. She found Ian seated behind his desk. His expression remained shuttered as he greeted her, although he politely set down his quill pen and stood.

Not wanting to seem too eager to welcome him home, Tess kept her tone dispassionate when she said, “I trust your business in Falmouth went as planned?”

“Yes. Banks and his confederates are in jail awaiting a hearing.”

“Good,” she responded.

“How is Crutchley?” Ian asked in a detached tone of his own.

“His mental state seems to have improved a bit, I think. He no longer quakes at his own shadow. And now that he has proper care, I hope he can heal enough to find productive employment someday. Earning his own keep may help Ned recover his dignity and give him a reason for living.”

When Ian gave an impersonal nod, Tess hesitated. The stiff formality of their exchange felt supremely uncomfortable, although she should have been glad for the cold barrier between them. It was precisely what she had wished for, wasn’t it?

“Did you desire something particular of me?” Ian prodded.

“Well …” Hearing the tentative quaver in her voice, Tess chastised herself. She had no reason to feel ill at ease. She had a legitimate right to question Ian about his possible involvement in her affairs.

She just wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer. Not if it meant that he had been her anonymous benefactor all this time. She didn’t like to think
she owed him such a great debt, or that she had misjudged him so profoundly. But Tess took a deep breath and began calmly.

“I recently realized that Mr. Daniel Grimshaw is your personal solicitor,” she commented.

“So?”

“So, for the past several years he has been a major contributor to my two most important charities.”

At first, Ian gave her no response at all. When eventually he raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for her to proceed, she blurted out her suspicion. “I believe you have been making those contributions all along, and that Grimshaw was merely acting at your direction.”

Ian’s silence spoke volumes, but Tess wanted to be certain. “Do you deny it?”

“No.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why would you let Grimshaw take all the credit for your philanthropy?”

Ian delayed his reply, obviously reluctant to explain his involvement. “It seemed wise at the time. Had I used an alias, you would have been overly curious about an anonymous donor. Thus, I had Grimshaw make the donations so you could put a face to a name.”

“That explains
how
you hid your altruism, but not
why.
”

When Tess’s gaze remained steadfast, Ian finally offered a justification. “You are so conscientious, you might have felt obliged to refuse my donations if you knew their source.”

Her eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You thought I was so closed-minded and priggish, I would turn down
funds to feed and clothe destitute women and children because I
objected to your wicked reputation?
”

Ian remained silent.

“I think you had another reason,” Tess said slowly. “You didn’t want me to know you had a heart.”

“There is that,” he agreed with an ironic, humorless smile.

“And it was not only monetary support you provided either,” she added. “You have intervened in other ways, haven’t you?”

“Why would you think so?”

“I spoke to Patrick Hennessy yesterday.”

Ian’s jaw hardened. “Hennessy should learn to honor his word.”

“He did. He refused to tell me anything of worth. I had to prod him relentlessly before he would even acknowledge the possibility that you were behind your solicitor’s generosity.”

Ian’s mouth twisted cynically at her resolve. “I am not surprised you deduced my role, Tess. You always were too clever and inquisitive for your own good.”

“In this instance, I was not clever at all,” she retorted. “You deceived me for years. I should like to know why.”

“I told you why.”

“No, you did
not
. Not really.” She took a step closer to him, her hands reaching out in an unconsciously imploring gesture. “Why have you always been so protective of me, Ian? Since the moment we met, we were always more enemies than friends, and you made clear your disdain for me and my hopeless idealism.”

“You were betrothed to my cousin.”

It was still an inadequate explanation, and Tess’s mouth tightened with frustration. “But I was never a member of your family.”

Ian’s eyes grew more hooded. “As I told you, Richard asked me to look after you in the event something happened to him.”

Tess hesitated, knowing he had a point. “Even so, that doesn’t explain the enormous sums you provided. A hundred pounds would have sufficed. You gave thousands to my organizations.”

Ian sighed faintly and looked away, as if wanting to avoid her penetrating gaze. “We have discussed this before, Tess. I was the one who sent Richard off to war, so it shouldn’t surprise you that I wanted to make amends. In some way, my contributions were in reparation for you losing your betrothed.”

“You purchased Richard’s colors, Ian, but it was not your fault that he died.”

“No, I didn’t directly cause his death,” he agreed solemnly.

“Then there was no need for you to feel guilty. Richard was eager to serve in some dashing regiment. You did not force him to go.”

Reluctantly, Ian turned his attention back to her. “Actually, I did force him.”

Tess frowned in puzzlement. “Why?”

The gravity she saw in his eyes was somehow unsettling. “At that point in Richard’s life, I thought he needed to grow up and learn to take responsibility for his actions.”

“What actions?”

Ian’s expression remained guarded, enigmatic, as he shrugged. “It isn’t important now.”

“It is to me,” Tess pressed.

Several moments passed before he finally answered. “Richard made a serious mistake a few years ago.”

“What mistake? When was this?”

“During the spring of your comeout season.”

Tess thought back, remembering. Spring of 1813 was when Richard had first begun courting her, and when she had first met Ian. She moved closer so that she stood directly in front of his desk. “So what was Richard’s big mistake?”

Ian’s eyes were shadowed. “He didn’t wish you to know about it. He wanted to try and make up for his transgression before you learned of it, and I agreed then not to share his secret.”

Tess’s hands clenched at his cryptic reply. “I am so weary of everyone always wrapping me in cotton wool,” she exclaimed in frustration. “Why all this secrecy? What is it that Richard didn’t wish me to know?”

Ian grimaced, then sighed softly again. “I think you should sit down, Tess.”

“Thank you, I will stand.”

To her surprise, he moved from behind the desk and crossed the study to the window. His back to her, he stood looking out at the square of elegant Mayfair residences. His voice was low when he spoke. “Jamie is not actually my son but Richard’s. He never acknowledged the boy because he didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tess felt herself gasp.
Richard’s
son? Richard had a
son
he had never told her about?

Her incredulous silence filled the room, but not because
she thought Ian was making up the tale. She remained speechless while trying to absorb the shocking impact of his revelation.

That explained why Jamie’s features looked so familiar to her, she realized. Because the toddler was the spitting image of Richard as a boy. But why had he purposely kept the truth from her? And why had Ian abetted him?

Her hand stole to her heart where a sudden sharp pain had lodged.

“He should have told me,” Tess murmured hoarsely. “I cannot believe he would have kept such a significant secret from me.”

“He wanted to spare you pain,” Ian explained. “And he feared if you knew the truth, you would terminate his courtship when it was just beginning.”