He watched as Grace entered the room, taking a spot near the window. He was able to catch her eye, but only briefly. She looked just as puzzled as he, and a good deal more concerned.
“I demand to know what is going on,” Lord Crowland said.
“Of course,” Wyndham said. “How rude of me. Where
Jack looked over at Grace. She had her hand over her mouth.
“We’ve had quite an exciting week at Belgrave,” Wyndham continued. “Quite beyond my wildest imaginings.”
“Your meaning?” Lord Crowland said curtly.
“Ah, yes. You probably should know-this man, right here”-Thomas flicked a wrist toward Jack-“is my cousin. He might even be the duke.” He looked at Lord Crowland and shrugged. “We’re not sure.”
Silence. And then:
“Oh dear God.”
Jack looked sharply over to Lady Amelia. She’d gone white. He could not imagine what she must be thinking.
“The trip to Ireland…” her father was saying.
“Is to determine his legitimacy,” Wyndham confirmed. And then, with a morbidly jolly expression, he continued, “It’s going to be quite a party. Even my grandmother is going.”
Jack fought to keep the shock off his face, then looked over at Grace. She, too, was staring at the duke in horror.
Lord Crowland’s countenance, on the other hand, was nothing but grim. “We will join you,” he said.
Lady Amelia lurched forward. “Father?”
Her father didn’t even turn around. “Stay out of this, Amelia.”
“But-”
“I assure you,” Wyndham cut in, “we will make our determinations with all possible haste and report back to you immediately.”
“My daughter’s future hangs in the balance,” Crowland returned hotly. “I will be there to examine the papers.”
Wyndham’s expression grew lethal, and his voice dangerously low. “Do you think we try to deceive you?”
“I only look out for my daughter’s rights.”
“Father, please.” Amelia had come up to Crowland and placed her hand on his sleeve. “Please, just a moment.”
“I said stay out of this!” her father yelled, and he shook her from his arm with enough force to cause her to stumble.
Jack stepped forward to aid her, but Wyndham was there before he could blink. “Apologize to your daughter,” Wyndham said.
Crowland sputtered in confusion. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“Apologize to her!” Wyndham roared.
“Your grace,” Amelia said, trying to insinuate herself between the two men. “Please, do not judge my father too harshly. These are exceptional circumstances.”
“No one knows that more clearly than I.” But Wyndham wasn’t looking at her as he said it, nor did he remove his eyes from her father’s face when he added, “Apologize to Amelia or I will have you removed from the estate.”
And for the first time, Jack admired him. He had already realized that he respected him, but that was not the same thing. Wyndham was a bore, in his humble opinion, but everything he did, every last decision and action-they were for others. It was all for Wyndham-the heritage, not the person. It was impossible not to respect such a man.
But this was different. The duke wasn’t standing up for his people, he was standing up for one person. It was a far more difficult thing to do.
And yet, looking at Wyndham now, he would say that it had come as naturally as breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Lord Crowland finally said, looking as if he was not quite certain what had just happened. “Amelia, you know I-”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off.
And then finally Jack found himself at center stage.
“Who is this man?” Lord Crowland asked, thrusting an arm in his direction.
Jack turned to Wyndham and quirked a brow, allowing him to answer.
“He is the son of my father’s elder brother,” Wyndham told Lord Crowland.
“Charles?” Amelia asked.
“John.”
Lord Crowland nodded, still directing his questions to Wyndham. “Are you certain of this?”
Thomas only shrugged. “You may look at the portrait yourself.”
“But his name-”
“Was Cavendish at birth,” Jack cut in. If he was going to be the subject of the discussion, he would bloody well be given a place in it. “I went by Cavendish-Audley at school. You may check the records, should you wish.”
“Here?” Crowland asked.
“In Enniskillen. I only came to England after serving in the army.”
“I am satisfied that he is a blood relation,” Wyndham said quietly. “All that remains is to determine whether he is also one by law.”
Jack looked to him in surprise. It was the first time he had publicly acknowledged him aloud as a relative.
The earl did not comment. Not directly, at least. He just muttered, “This is a disaster,” and walked over to the window.
And said nothing.
Nor did anyone else.
And then, in a voice low and furious, came the earl’s comment. “I signed the contract in good faith,” he said, still staring out over the lawn. “Twenty years ago, I signed the contract.”
Still no one spoke.
Abruptly, he turned around. “Do you understand?” he demanded, glaring at Wyndham. “Your father came to me with his plans, and I agreed to them, believing you to be the rightful heir to the dukedom. She was to be a duchess. A duchess! Do you think I would have signed away my daughter had I known you were nothing but…but…”
And then Wyndham-
It was exactly what Jack would have wanted to say. If he’d been in Thomas’s shoes. If he’d thought of it.
But the earl was not cowed by the sarcastic rebuke. He glared at Thomas, practically shaking as he hissed, “I will not allow my daughter to be cheated. If you do not prove to be the right and lawful Duke of Wyndham, you may consider the betrothal null and void.”
“As you wish,” Thomas said curtly. He made no argument, no indication that he might wish to fight for his betrothed.
Jack looked over at Lady Amelia, then looked away. There were some things, some emotions, a gentleman could not watch.
But when he turned back, he found himself face-to-face with the earl. Her father. And the man’s finger was pointed at his chest.
“If that is the case,” he said, “if you are the Duke of Wyndham, then
It took a great deal to render Jack Audley speechless. This, however, had done it.
When he regained his voice, after a rather unattractive choking sound he assumed had come from his throat, he managed the following:
“Oh.
