Undercover Duke

by Sabrina Jeffries

  “Thirty years! I don’t want to wait thirty years to see myself loved by the man I love.”

  “I was only joking, my dear.” The dowager duchess walked toward the door, then muttered, “Mostly, anyway.”

  Vanessa groaned. She certainly hoped her mother-inlaw was joking. And how could the man be so good at noticing her feelings but be so blind to what his own feelings were?

  Unless he didn’t feel as deeply as Vanessa did. He’d been forced into marriage, after all.

  I think he already does love you.

  Oh, she hoped that was true. She would cling to that possibility as long as she could. In the meantime, there was one way of endearing him to her, and that involved solving the issue of whether Bonham’s bookkeeping could be trusted.

  With that, she settled down to work.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two hours later, Sheridan and Gwyn left Lady Hornsby’s and headed for his coach. “That was an utter waste of time,” Sheridan grumbled.

  “I told you and the rest of them it wasn’t her. She might enjoy seducing young—and old—men more than she should, and she might be a bit saucy in her language, but at heart she’s a decent sort and very kind.”

  “Except for the periodic cuckolding of other people’s husbands.”

  Gwyn sighed. “True. Except for that.”

  He helped his half sister into the coach and climbed in after her. “I still can’t believe the countess has been having an affair with Lisbourne all this time.” He shuddered. “Vanessa has no idea what a close call she had.”

  “I doubt Lady Hornsby would have stood for seeing Lisbourne marry a much younger woman, anyway, at least not while she and Lisbourne were having an affair. And there’s no telling—perhaps in time she and Lisbourne will marry. He has an heir already, and it’s not as if she could have children, anyway. Hornsby left her well off, and Lisbourne needs money. It could be a match made in heaven.”

  “If you say so.” Privately he was skeptical. “But you think she was telling the truth about the house party?”

  “The first one? Undoubtedly. Hornsby wasn’t the best husband, from what Mama has said, so it makes sense she would have gone off to her little love nest with her first lover—of many—as soon as possible. We’ll have to compare notes with Mama, but I think it’s believable.”

  “Lady Hornsby’s explanation of what she was doing during the second house party seems a bit more believable to me. I can easily see how she would be reluctant to attend a house party when gossip was circling around society that she was mistress to Thorn’s father. Assuming that she and Mother were still good friends—and we have no reason to believe otherwise—she would have stayed away out of courtesy to Mother.”

  “But why was she listed as a guest at the party?”

  “Those lists were invitation lists,” Sheridan pointed out. “Did you keep a list of the people who attended your ball a few weeks back? I daresay you only kept a record of whom you invited.”

  Gwyn frowned. “True. I hadn’t thought of that. I wonder if Mother would remember if Lady Hornsby was at the house party. If she remembered one way or the other, though, wouldn’t she have told us?”

  “Not if she was in labor during the whole party.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot she was in labor.”

  “I don’t know how you could forget that,” Sheridan teased her. “She was in labor with you and Thorn.”

  Gwyn made a face at him, and he laughed.

  Then both sat quietly for a bit. Finally, Sheridan said, “I guess this means we’ll have to look into servants and other staff now. Because you and I both know Lady Norley isn’t some master criminal. I could believe it of Lady Hornsby perhaps and definitely of Lady Eustace, but Lady Norley is a likable lady who puts up with her arse of a husband because she loves her stepdaughter.”

  Gwyn nodded. “That about sums her up.” She nudged his knee. “Meanwhile, how is married life treating you?”

  “Pretty well, under the circumstances.”

  “You did finally tell Vanessa about Helene, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “And you told Vanessa you’re in love with her now, right?”

  He stiffened. “I’m not in love with Vanessa. I have great affection for her, and I certainly have a healthy desire for her, but love? I don’t want to be in love with her. The last time I was in love, it nearly destroyed me.”

  “Yet here you are, completely whole again.” Gwyn shook her head. “Nobody wants to be in love. Why would anyone choose an emotion capable of ripping one’s heart to pieces?”

  “Exactly what I was saying.”

  “You’re missing my point. You don’t choose love; love chooses you. You have no say or recourse, and when it happens, resistance is pointless.”

  “That sounds alarming.” It also sounded close to how he’d felt with Helene years ago. Actually, it was closer to how he felt with Vanessa now. Bloody hell.

  Gwyn tried to stifle a yawn but wasn’t successful.

  “You’re tired,” Sheridan said. “Why don’t you nap a bit on the way back?”

  “Thank you. I believe I will.” She patted his hand, then put her head against the squabs and promptly went to sleep.

  Gazing at her, he wondered if Vanessa would be so tired once she was enceinte. Would she eat strange foods? Would she even be happy to carry his child?

  Will you try not to love your children, too, so you don’t suffer pain if one of them dies?

  He grimaced, remembering what Vanessa had said about children. He should stop dwelling on that and turn his thoughts to figuring out where to go next in their investigation.

  Unfortunately, by the time he and Gwyn reached her town house, he hadn’t come up with much of a plan. To his surprise, Joshua was apparently waiting for them to arrive, because before Sheridan’s footman could open the carriage door Joshua appeared at the bottom of the steps, cane in hand. “Hold up, Sheridan. I need to speak to you before you leave.”

  Sheridan leaned out of the carriage window. “I’m meeting with Bonham in half an hour to go over the books, so this had better be important.”

  “It’s damned important. Where are you meeting with Bonham?”

  “At my house. Why?”

  “Because this concerns him. And I should go with you.” Joshua glanced in the carriage and said, “You shouldn’t go, sweeting.”

  “I want to hear what you found out. I’m part of this, too, you know.”

  Joshua hesitated, but he probably knew better than to argue with Gwyn when she’d dug in her heels. “All right. But once we reach Sheridan’s, I’m sending you back home.”

  That certainly sounded worrisome.

  Joshua got in and took a seat beside his wife. As soon as they were off, he said, “I haven’t left town to confirm the details of Sir Noah’s past, but I did speak to a number of gentlemen who know him and will readily vouch for him. So I think we can rule him out.”

  “Thank God,” Sheridan said. “I wasn’t looking forward to telling Vanessa I suspected her uncle of anything. Bad enough I suspected her mother. Who, by the way, is now excluded as a possibility.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Joshua said. “I did as you asked regarding Bonham. Fortunately, once I discovered his previous identity, everything was fairly easy to investigate.”

  Alarm caught Sheridan by the throat. “What previous identity?”

  “Before your man of affairs was William Bonham, he was Henry Davenport.”

  “Wait, that surname sounds familiar,” Sheridan said.

  “You may have uncovered it accidentally in the course of questioning Lady Eustace,” Joshua said. “Did she ever mention a young man who killed himself when your mother refused to marry him?”

  Sheridan felt as if a fist of ice closed around his heart. “Matthew Davenport. Yes. Died for love.”

  “That was Bonham’s—Henry Davenport’s—older brother.”

  “Dear heaven,” Gwyn whispered.

&n
bsp; “As you might imagine, it’s no coincidence,” Joshua said. “After Matthew killed himself, his family fell on hard times. The scandal ruined Henry’s father, who was a barrister. He lost all his clients and his reputation. Eventually he and Henry’s mother ended up in debtors’ prison, where both died, leaving sixteen-year-old Henry to fend for himself. So the very clever Henry changed who he was in order to survive. Since he knew a good bit about the law, thanks to his father, he took the name of an obscure member of his mother’s family, long deceased, and somehow got a place as a clerk in a solicitor’s office.”

  “I did know Bonham had a background in law,” Sheridan said. “That must be why Father sometimes referred to him as his solicitor.”

  “Probably. The solicitor Bonham worked for was so impressed with his work as a law clerk that the man often took Bonham on trips made on behalf of their clients.” Joshua’s expression turned grim. “Guess who one of the solicitor’s more important clients, a wealthy banker, was a friend to.”

  “Good God,” Sheridan said, his heart pounding. “Grey’s father.”

  “Precisely. I daresay Bonham was shocked to hear that the house party he was attending with his employer was hosted by none other than Lydia Fletcher Pryde, the new Duchess of Greycourt, whom he probably saw as ruining his family.”

  “I don’t understand.” Gwyn stared at her husband. “If he blamed Mama and wanted revenge on her, why kill her husband? Why not just kill her?”

  “We’ll never know for sure, unless he admits it,” Joshua said, “but I suspect he intended to do so. Instead, the poison somehow ended up in the duke’s food or drink. And afterward, when he saw how little your mother mourned her husband’s death, that probably only reinforced Bonham’s image of her as a deadly siren, who used her beauty and charm to prey on his brother and other hapless men.”

  “That’s not fair!” Gwyn cried. “By all accounts, Grey’s father was a despicable man who essentially married her so he and Mama’s mother could continue their affair without its being easily noticed by people in society. Apparently our maternal grandfather didn’t care who our grandmother chose to bed, as long as she was discreet.”

  “You knew about that?” Sheridan said. “I only heard of it recently, when Lady Eustace told me. I confess I was so shocked, I didn’t quite believe her.”

  “I don’t know if it’s true, but I learned of it from Grey, who learned of it from his uncle, who’d thrown it in his face on occasion.”

  “I never knew any of it,” Joshua said. “And I daresay Bonham didn’t either. Your poor mother. No wonder she married again so swiftly. What was it, a year later?”

  “Two years.” Gwyn thrust out her chin. “And she married our father for love.”

  “Still, two years is quick in some people’s minds, and Bonham would have seen the hasty wedding as evidence of her conniving nature, since he was already predisposed to hate your mother. I’m sure he plotted the best way to get his vengeance on her. So he got his employer invited to that same affair or drummed up an excuse for needing to bring a document to be signed himself or some such. Once there, I suspect he couldn’t bring himself to kill a woman in labor. But perhaps he thought that killing the man she loved might lead to her dying in labor.”

  Gwyn scowled. “The man is a monster.”

  “Who lost his entire family at sixteen, Gwyn,” Sheridan said. “I’m not excusing him for it, but having lost Helene to illness, I can only imagine how he felt losing a brother to suicide and his parents to illness. He had to blame it on someone. And he picked our mother to blame it on, because she rejected his brother. In his mind, she had set the chain of events in motion.”

  Joshua snorted. “We don’t know your mother’s side of the story yet, Sheridan. She may not have been as cruel to his brother as Bonham thinks.”

  Gwyn nodded. “I suppose once Mama married Papa, and he took the family to Prussia, Bonham could do nothing more. Following them there would have been difficult, I’m sure.”

  “Yes,” Joshua said. “Clearly he gave up his plans for vengeance, at least temporarily. He got his law degree and acquired some wealthy clients. He even got married. Somehow he finagled his way into becoming your grandfather’s man of affairs.”

  “There’s no ‘somehow’ about it,” Sheridan said. “Bonham has a reputation for being brilliant, having a talent for not only the law but accounting. Father said that my grandfather often sung his praises in his letters.”

  “That’s a good point,” Joshua said. “Everyone I talked to who knew him said he was gifted with both numbers and contracts, the best solicitor they’d ever used. No one would have guessed him to be a double murderer.”

  “Not just a double murderer,” Sheridan said grimly. “He killed my uncle and my father, too.” He mused a moment. “The only thing I can’t figure out is why, after serving my grandfather and uncle for years, he suddenly decided to kill Uncle Armie to bring Father and the rest of the family back to England so he could kill Father, too. Why decide to do it nearly thirty years later?”

  Gwyn furrowed her brow in thought. “Bonham’s wife died shortly before Uncle Armie did. I remember because Bonham was still in mourning when we met him. And Mama said his wife never bore him any children.”

  “So it must have really stuck in his craw that Mother had five,” Sheridan said, “two of them dukes at the time. That she was living a relatively happy, full life in spite of all his attempts to ruin it.”

  “Is that why he’s been acting as if he’s courting your mother?” Joshua settled back against the squabs. “He could have murdered her ten times over by now. So has he given up on revenge and decided to try marrying your mother instead?”

  As awareness dawned, Sheridan groaned. “That might be his eventual plan—as her husband he would have complete control over her—but I don’t think he was necessarily trying to bring Father back to England when he killed Uncle Armie. I think Uncle Armie discovered what Father discovered later and what got them both killed.”

  Sheridan tensed up. “The brilliant William Bonham is embezzling money from the dukedom and quite possibly has been doing so for the past couple of decades. He has apparently decided he might as well get rich off of his revenge.”

  Joshua swore under his breath. “You have proof of that?”

  “Not yet. But Vanessa suspected something was wrong when she looked over the account ledgers this morning—” Sheridan let out an oath, then pulled out his pocket watch. “Damn. It’s nearly four. That’s when Bonham and I agreed to meet.” His blood roared in his ears. “I left Vanessa looking over the books. And Mother is home as well.”

  Sliding open the front panel, he called up to his coachman. “Make haste, Harry! We’ve got to get back to Armitage House at once.”

  Immediately, the coachman increased his speed.

  “When we get there,” Joshua said, “I want you to stay in the coach, Gwyn.”

  “Not on your life! I can help.”

  “You’re carrying our child,” Joshua said hoarsely. “I don’t want you anywhere near that unpredictable bastard.”

  “I don’t have to be near him to be a help. I can at least keep Mama preoccupied.”

  Sheridan nodded. “That could be useful.”

  “What if he decides to finally try killing your mother?” Joshua bit out. He took Gwyn’s hand in his. “If you get in his way, sweeting—”

  “I won’t.” Gwyn set her shoulders. “You won’t even know I’m in the house.”

  Joshua looked as if he might argue, but Gwyn was clearly set upon resisting. “Fine,” he said. He looked at Sheridan. “We’ll need a plan.”

  “We will indeed.” Sheridan’s heart beat the frenzied pace of a soldier heading into battle. “Are you armed? Because I have my pistol case with me, and you can use one of my pistols. They’re both loaded. We didn’t know what we might encounter at Lady Hornsby’s.”

  With a gleam in his eyes, Joshua opened his greatcoat to show two pockets, each containing a
pistol. “I thought we might need these.”

  “And his cane becomes a sword,” Gwyn said helpfully.

  “Actually, this is the cane that has a smaller pistol in the handle,” her husband corrected her. “But I do have a blade in my boot.”

  “Good God, you’re a walking arsenal!” Sheridan said. “Though I’m glad of it. Even now Vanessa might be alone with that . . . maniac.”

  “She’ll be all right.” Gwyn reached over to squeeze his hand. “She’s quick-witted and resourceful. And Bonham has no reason to suspect we’ve figured out his game, anyway.”

  “He might gain one if Vanessa confronts him about the embezzlement,” Sheridan said.

  “Assuming that she’s unraveled it,” Joshua said. “If she has, she surely won’t even let the scoundrel in.”

  “But if she does for some reason, she’ll have to convince him she knows nothing of it, or she might be dead before we can reach her. He’ll have nothing to lose.”

  No one argued with that. Who could? They knew he was right. Sheridan had left her alone with those ledgers . . . with Bonham on the way. And without telling her he loved her.

  Of course he loved her. His feelings for Helene had been a pale imitation compared to the soul-abiding love he had for Vanessa. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have this gut-twisting fear for her in his chest. She was his life, his heart. And all he wanted was the chance to tell her. Because if he lost her before he could do so . . .

  No, he wouldn’t let that happen.

  Hold on, sweetheart, we’re coming. I’m coming. Just stay alive until we get there.

  Vanessa was rather pleased with herself. She’d taken a sheet of the ledger and redone it properly on a piece of clean paper. Her calculations showed she was right. Mr. Bonham’s numbers didn’t match up. It was a small amount, but if he’d been doing it for years it would add up to a great deal of missing money. And she knew exactly whose pockets it was going into, although it would take months to redo the ledgers to find out exactly how much he’d stolen.

  No wonder the dukedom was struggling. Sheridan had been right to question Mr. Bonham’s figures. Even not being able to see the numbers right, he’d deduced that something didn’t make sense, and that was impressive.