The Unclaimed Duchess

by Jenna Petersen

  As they walked down the hallway toward Simon’s office, Rhys found himself pondering not what his friend would say, but his wife. He had hurt her today, though he didn’t know exactly how. He had hurt her so many times, perhaps not meaning to, but what consolation was that?

  He could only hope she’d understand everything he had done once the truth came out.

  They entered the large, tidy room Simon called office, and his friend closed the door behind them. Rhys shifted as he looked around. How many times had he been here? A hundred? But now it seemed ominous and different, though not so much as a stick of furniture had been changed.

  But then that wasn’t what had been altered, was it? No. He was different.

  “Would you like a drink?” Simon asked as he opened a box of cigars and offered one to Rhys.

  He shook his head to both. “As much as I’d like to numb this unsavory situation, I think it would be better if my mind were clear for what we are about to discuss.”

  Simon nodded and closed the box without taking a cigar for himself, either. He sat at his desk, Rhys across from him, and smiled slightly.

  “Thank you for what you said to Lillian. She isn’t yet comfortable with the role of duchess. I know your acceptance means something to her.”

  Rhys frowned. “Considering my position now, I think it’s foolish that I ever withheld it. I was needlessly cruel to her and I hate myself for it.”

  Simon met his gaze evenly, not denying Rhys’s prior cruelty, but not censuring him for it, either. “Luckily we can always change.”

  “Can we?” Rhys asked with a hollow laugh.

  “Yes, and I sense you have in the time since I last saw you.”

  Rhys looked at his lap, fiddling with a loose thread at his wrist. “Of course I have changed. I’m no longer the man I thought I was.”

  “That isn’t what I meant,” Simon said, softer than before. “I found your disappearance troubling. I was worried about you, my friend.”

  Rhys’s gaze snapped up. “And that is why you sent my wife after me so recklessly?”

  Simon shrugged. “Anne would not be stopped.”

  Rhys shook his head at that statement. He could well imagine it was true. Certainly she had been a bulldog when it came to her interactions with him in the countryside. Her stubborn devotion was one of the first fascinating things he had never before recognized existed in her. That and the feelings he hadn’t known she held inside.

  “Because she loves me,” Rhys said, his tone dull.

  Simon leaned back in his chair as his eyebrow arched. “Yes. That fact became eminently clear to me in the weeks before you married and even more so once you ran away. Anne’s feelings run very deep. I must admit, I’m surprised you recognize that fact. You’ve never been very good at sensing the emotions of others.”

  “I’m not any clearer of vision than I was before, I’m afraid. She told me her feelings,” Rhys all but whispered as he thought of that charged day when she had confessed her love for him.

  Simon chuckled low, though there was little humor in his tone when he said, “Yes, that I can see. She is direct when she sees the need for it.” There was a moment’s silence and then Simon asked, “So what do you feel for her?”

  There it was in unavoidable terms. Simon had just asked Rhys the one question he’d been trying to avoid at all costs since the first moment he saw Anne racing down the hill to “save” him from himself.

  He didn’t want to analyze his emotions for his wife. He didn’t want to feel any particular emotions toward her at all. In the end it didn’t matter how he felt or what he wanted, because he couldn’t have those things. He couldn’t have Anne. The situation that had driven her into his arms and his life in a way he had never expected was also the situation that would keep them apart forever.

  Rhys shrugged, refusing to torment himself with the answer Simon sought. “There is really no choice in the matter. I must leave her.”

  Simon pushed to his feet with a sharp intake of air that seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room. He stared down at Rhys with such a look of shock and dismay that shame filled him.

  “You cannot be serious,” Simon said as he paced to the sidebar and poured himself a drink, which he downed in one swig without taking his eyes off Rhys.

  “I’m afraid I’m as serious as the grave,” Rhys said, his voice cracking slightly before he reined in the reaction that so revealed his true feelings on the matter.

  “How will that even be possible?” Simon asked. “This union was legal, consummated, and utterly public. You couldn’t have it annulled, and divorce is almost an impossibility. Do you think you can just walk away from her? I think she’s more than proven she’ll make chase.”

  Rhys nodded. “Yes, perhaps once, but I think now she might no longer do so. I’ve made it clear that separation is the only option for us.”

  “Does that mean you’ve told her the truth about why you ran, then?” Simon asked.

  Rhys shook his head. “To protect her, I have kept her in the dark as to my parentage. That way she can honestly say she had no idea of my birth when she married me.”

  “But you could still reveal what you know to her now and that fact would remain true,” Simon reasoned.

  “With a blackmailer lurking in the shadows? This person could reveal the truth before I’m able to handle the situation. If that occurs, it will be best if Anne is as surprised by the revelation of my parentage as everyone else. I can only hope that will offer her some protection.”

  Simon released an incredulous snort. “You cannot think she won’t be touched by this, no matter how much you distance yourself from her.”

  “Of course she will,” Rhys snapped as he got to his feet and paced to the window. “But if we are already living apart I cannot help but believe she has a better chance of survival than if she stayed with me, stood by me as the world discovered I had been masquerading as a duke, looking down on them and making their lives a hell.”

  Simon took a long step toward him. “Rhys!”

  Rhys ignored the interruption. “No, if I set Anne free in this manner, I think Society could see her as a victim of a man many of them already despise. With her father’s support, with the assistance of her friends, many of whom are devoted to her, she could weather the storm.”

  “You are not so hated as you make it out,” Simon protested, though his tone was less than convincing.

  An incredulous arched brow was Rhys’s response. “Do you know who I saw while in the country?”

  Simon sighed heavily. “Who?”

  “Caleb Talbot. He was at a village fete Anne and I attended.”

  His friend blinked once. “Somehow I’m having a difficult time picturing you at a village party, but very well. Why was Talbot there? He’s been missing from Society for nearly a year.”

  “I have no idea, but he was right on the edge of an ugly drunk and miserable, so I doubt it was for pleasure. He likely struck upon the gathering by chance. But I spoke to him, Simon. I even tried to apologize for how I acted toward him, for who I was when in his presence.”

  He swallowed as he spoke, trying to keep his tone even, trying not to let Simon hear and see how much that moment had affected and changed him.

  “And what was his answer to your apology?” his friend asked softly.

  “Let us just say that his reaction wasn’t one of forgiveness.” Rhys shook his head. “Most people will offer the same response, I think. I’ve given them little reason for charity and mercy toward me.”

  Simon dipped his chin. He drew in a few breaths before he looked at Rhys again. This time there was firm determination in his brother’s stare. And a sadness that seemed to be caused by more than just Rhys’s situation.

  “Have you ever considered simply not telling anyone else the truth?” Simon said with the slightest tremble to his voice.

  “Of course I have!” With a scowl, Rhys clenched his fists at his sides. “I’ve contemplated every scenario, and hi
ding the truth and continuing on as before has always been the first thing to come to mind.”

  Simon nodded to encourage him. “It would protect your mother, your family, and you could remain with Anne.”

  Rhys shut his eyes. His brother had to know he was offering him heaven, but there was more at stake here than simply protecting his family reputation.

  “All those things are true. And it is easier to believe I could hide it, but perhaps…” He trailed off. “Perhaps it is better that the truth come out.”

  “You cannot mean that!”

  “I very much do. Before I knew I was your brother, when you told me that he was a man of title, I said that the world deserved to know the truth. That even if the law allowed a bastard born within the confines of a legal marriage to keep his title, Society should be made aware and the man should face the consequences.” He shrugged. “Why should that not remain true, even if it is myself I condemn?”

  “So despite the changes in you, the idea of family blood and history still utterly controls you?” Simon snapped in disgust. “To the point that you would put your own feet and those of your family to the fire.”

  “My father—” Rhys cut himself off. “The last Duke of Waverly instilled the value of the pureness of our family line and history into me almost daily. The Waverly title has great power, should it not be held by someone who actually has blood from that family? And if it isn’t, should the man who is forced to keep that title despite his blood still be revered and held up as an example, as if the truth didn’t exist?”

  Simon looked at the floor. “One day I’ll tell you the whole story I discovered about our father’s duplicity. One day. But for now, I’ll only say that I understand, somewhat, what you are going through, how you are torn between two worlds. But I’m telling you, Rhys, sometimes it is better to live the lie. It may sound strange, but revealing the truth can be more damaging in ways you haven’t fully considered.”

  Rhys cocked his head at the hollow sound of Simon’s voice, but didn’t press for more details. By the expression on his brother’s face, he could see Simon was too raw to discuss whatever troubled him.

  “But don’t you understand?” he asked. “I still see a way to repair the line by revealing the truth.”

  “Repair the line?” Simon repeated, shaking his head in confusion.

  Rhys nodded. “If the truth were to come out, people would see I don’t deserve to continue the line, even if the law recognizes me as duke. And if Anne and I are separated, not only will she be somewhat protected from the scandal, but we won’t produce children, more pointedly heirs whose birth would force the Waverly line to continue with my blood instead of a real person who shared the Waverly blood and history. Upon my death the line will revert to someone else. A distant cousin will be found who—”

  Simon looked at him. “There is no distant cousin, Rhys.”

  Rhys staggered back in surprise. “What?”

  “I did some research while you were away. You are, by all accounting, the last male of the Carlisle line. Whether the truth of your parentage comes out or not, if you don’t produce a son of your own to carry on the title, it will revert back to the Crown. Do you know who they’ll give it to?”

  Rhys shook his head.

  “Likely it will go to a common person who has either served or paid the Crown well. Someone with none of the family ties and likely little of the noble blood you so claim to value. And your family, your mother, your sisters, your wife will all live with the stigma your revelation will put on them. For what?”

  Rhys clenched his fists at his sides. He had long known there were no close male relatives on his “father’s” side of the family, but he hadn’t realized there were not even distant relations who could take this title from him.

  Suddenly the idea of keeping his silence, of protecting all those he held dear, became a much more viable one again. Only there was one fact that kept him from surrendering to the easy future his brother encouraged him to grasp for.

  “But you forget something, Simon. There is a blackmailer out there. Coming in a matter of, what…a week? Ten days at most? Another person, one with villainous intent, knows this secret and could reveal it at any moment and in the worst way possible. This won’t end simply because I decide I wish it to. Until I have dealt with that person, I cannot completely rule out revealing this secret myself, if only to control the manner in which the information is shared.”

  Simon closed his eyes. He nodded as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Very well, let us set aside our argument about you ending or not ending your marriage, about you revealing or not revealing your identity. You are correct. There is a blackmailer. And perhaps it is time to talk about that fact and truly decide how we will deal with this. As brothers.”

  Chapter 14 Rhys’s stomach rolled as it always did when he allowed himself to think of some nameless, faceless villain who held the keys to his family’s humiliation.

  “Do you have more information about this…person?”

  Simon nodded slowly, and the look of disdain on his face was powerful. “Do you remember the name Xavier Warren?”

  Rhys blinked as he tried to recall. “It seems familiar. Wait, wasn’t he quite involved in politics a number of years ago? And we discovered something about him and your father.” He stopped and stared at Simon. “I mean, our father.”

  Simon took a slow step closer and reached out to briefly squeeze Rhys’s arm before he released him and gave a short nod.

  “Yes. Since I received the initial threat of blackmail, I’ve done quite a bit of research, and Warren’s name is the one that comes up time and again. It seems the amount of underhanded politicking he and our father partook in was enormous.”

  Simon broke off suddenly and Rhys saw the deep and abiding pain that briefly darkened his friend’s eyes. As excruciating as this situation was for Rhys, it was equally difficult for Simon. He’d been drowning in disappointing truths about the man who raised him for weeks now.

  Rhys tilted his head. “Simon, I realize how distressing this is for you,” he said softly, wondering at how odd these words of true comfort felt on his tongue. He had said such things so infrequently, even when they were warranted. “I’m so very sorry.”

  Simon laughed softly. “We both are, my friend. Our father was so revered for his goodness, but the more I learn, the more I realize he had none in him. And now his lies and treacheries are being visited upon us, his children.”

  Rhys nodded solemnly, and the two men were silent for a moment as they each pondered that fact and its consequences.

  Finally Simon shook his head and continued, “At any rate, I believe Warren might be involved in the blackmail. When I delved deeper I discovered he knew the solicitor who held the paperwork about you. Warren had some hand in ‘finding’ him when the old solicitor died. But it turns out that the new man had no real relation to the original. It was all a fraud, meant to gain access to the paperwork being held in his office, and not just the papers regarding our father.”

  “Damn,” Rhys growled as he paced to the window. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It sounds like this man is quite the villain indeed. But why do you think he allowed us so much time before moving forward with the blackmail?”

  “A few years ago, Warren was accused of involvement in some kind of intrigue. There were whispers that he was a traitor to the Crown.” Simon frowned. “Warren’s arrest was called for and the man bolted from the country. But about a month later, my father’s records show he began sending a large monthly payment to an unnamed account on the Continent. It’s possible Warren was already blackmailing him. But once he heard the late duke had died and his son had come to the solicitor who held the keys to it all…”

  Rhys faced his brother. “He thought perhaps he could get more from two live dukes than one dead one. And he decided to take the risk to come here and face us.”

  Simon nodded, his face grim. “I believe that’s why there was such a
long time between the initial letter and when Warren plans to meet with us. Partly it’s a game of cat and mouse meant to drive the anxiety we feel to a peak so that we’re primed to do whatever he asks when he arrives. But I think part of it may have to do with the time it takes to smuggle oneself into the country when one is a wanted fugitive.”

  “It makes sense,” Rhys said, that sick feeling in his belly growing. “But having an idea who the villain behind this situation could be changes nothing. If it is Warren who arrives on our doorstep demanding something for his silence, our choices remain the same. We can either pay him and risk exposure, ruin, and a future filled with ever-increasing demands and threats…or we can allow this information to come out in our own way.”

  Simon was silent for a long time. He sank into the chair behind his desk and steepled his fingers.

  “Then you might reveal this information yourself?”

  Rhys looked at his friend. The question had been asked in a calm tone, but he saw the worry in Simon’s eyes. In that moment, he had a sudden realization. He had spent all the time since he found out the truth ruminating on the effect revealing what he knew would have on his own life and that of his family.

  He had never once considered Simon and the rest of Simon’s family. Now he moved toward his friend with a shake of his head.

  “The consequences to you…” he began, his voice breaking a second time.

  Simon’s expression softened. “You’ve just thought of them, eh?”

  Rhys rubbed his eyes. “It seems I am as selfish as my true father was.”

  Simon got to his feet. “That is not true. Our father would have fully recognized how deeply he was going to hurt others, only he wouldn’t have cared. Perhaps he would have even taken pleasure in knowing he could do so without consequence. Rhys, you may be many things, but I know you’d never hurt me on purpose. Even at your worst, you weren’t that cruel.”

  Rhys sagged as he leaned on Simon’s desk. His friend sounded so certain, but Rhys didn’t know anymore. Not about anything, even himself.