The Duke's Secret Heir

by Sarah Mallory

  Max was standing before the fireplace when she went in. He was staring moodily at the carpet and when he looked up his expression did not change. Formality and good manners dictated how she should behave. She sank into a deep curtsy.

  ‘Your Grace.’ Silence. ‘Will you not sit down?’ Ellen perched on the edge of a chair and folded her hands in her lap, trying to look composed. ‘I must tell you how much I...regret...the misunderstandings that have occurred between us.’

  ‘Ha! Regret, you call it? Treachery, more like.’

  She ignored this. ‘I wish to be plain with you, Your Grace. To tell you the truth.’

  ‘No doubt that will be a novelty for you, madam.’

  Ellen winced at his sarcasm.

  ‘I never lied to you and I will not do so now,’ she said quietly. ‘There never was a Mr Furnell. I never married. When I discovered I was carrying your—our—child, I decided to pose as a widow.’

  He looked at her hands. ‘Where is the ring I bought you—did you discard it, sell it, perhaps?’

  ‘No. It is in my jewel box.’

  Ellen thought of the heavy gold ring he had given her, engraved with Arabic characters she could not read but that he had told her said ‘I love you’. Crossing the Mediterranean in the French frigate she had more than once wanted to throw the ring into the sea, but she had kept it, clinging on to the hope that when she was back in England she might be able to prove he had not lied to her, that he really was the man he purported to be. By the time her enquiries were concluded, and her lawyers had told her that Major Max Colnebrooke could not have been in Egypt that winter, she knew she was pregnant and she had put the ring carefully away. It was the only token she had of the child’s father. Now she glanced at the plain gold band on her finger.

  ‘I thought this was more in keeping for a respectable English widow.’

  ‘A very rich English widow.’ Her eyes flew to his face and he continued. ‘You say you never lied to me, but you will admit you omitted to tell me the extent of your fortune. I only discovered it once I set about looking for you in England.’

  She could not resist saying bitterly, ‘Yet for all my wealth I am not considered a suitable consort for a duke.’

  ‘A man wants a wife he can trust!’

  She winced at that and said quietly, ‘I hurt you very badly, did I not, Max?’

  ‘More than you can ever know, madam.’

  She bowed her head and for a moment there was only silence.

  ‘And your family,’ he said at last, ‘are they complicit in this subterfuge?’

  ‘My step-mama knows of it, but she is sworn to secrecy.’

  ‘She is married to an Arrandale, so no doubt she is accustomed to scandal and intrigue.’

  Ellen’s head went up at that. ‘You forget, sir, that until yesterday I thought you had tricked me, that my child would be born out of wedlock. Lady Phyllida understood immediately that I would wish to make a new life for myself. As for my father’s family, when they learned of my disgrace, they immediately cut all connection with me.’

  ‘Yes, I sent my people to the Tathams in an attempt to find you and they were met with nothing but silence. Of course, they did not know the Duke of Rossenhall was behind the enquiry.’

  ‘It would have made no difference. I have never told them where to find me.’

  ‘And is that why you chose Harrogate, to be as far away as possible from everyone you know?’

  ‘In part. You will recall I was travelling with a companion, Mrs Ackroyd. By the time we returned to England she was very ill. The climate in the east had taken its toll of her health and she was advised to take the waters. We both have too many acquaintances at Bath and Tonbridge Wells, so we hit upon Harrogate. We set up home together and she was with me for twelve happy months.’

  Ellen ended on a sigh, wishing her dear friend was with her now. She badly needed support.

  ‘I remember Mrs Ackroyd very well,’ said the Duke. ‘She was an intelligent and educated woman.’ He hesitated. ‘Please accept my condolences on your loss, ma’am.’

  ‘What? Oh, no.’ Even in her present situation Ellen could not help smiling a little. ‘She is not dead, sir. She has gone travelling again. Greece and Turkey, this time.’

  She saw his lips twitch. So he had not completely lost his sense of humour. But his next words set her on her guard again.

  ‘You live here unattended, unchaperoned.’

  ‘I do not need a chaperon.’

  ‘No, it would sadly curtail your freedom, would it not?’

  ‘I live here with my servants and my son,’ she retorted, bristling. ‘If I was to behave indecorously, it would be all over the town within days.’ She rose. ‘Now, if that is all you have to say, I beg you will excuse me. You will no doubt wish us to remove from here as soon as possible and I have much to do.’

  ‘There has been a change of plan.’

  Ellen froze. He was going to take Jamie. He had decided to divorce her, to drag her name through the courts, expose her to ridicule and shame before banishing her from her son’s life for ever.

  ‘We cannot leave Harrogate immediately.’ Giddy with relief, Ellen sank back on to her chair and as she did so Max continued. ‘It is necessary to remain here for a few more weeks yet. You will continue to live in this house and I shall stay at the Granby. We will be obliged to meet, of course—’

  ‘Wait.’ Ellen stopped him. ‘I do not understand. Last night you were impatient to quit Harrogate.’

  ‘I had not then thought it through.’ He walked to the window and stared out. His large frame blocked the light and cast a shadow over Ellen. ‘Frederick Arncliffe is dying. I have given my word that I will remain here with him until the end.’

  She nodded slowly. ‘I understand that, Your Grace, but once our situation is known, life here will be very difficult.’

  ‘Our situation as you call it must remain a secret.’

  ‘What?’

  He turned on his heel. With the light behind him, she could not see his face, but his voice was hard and cold as steel.

  ‘We must pretend we are merely acquaintances.’

  ‘No! Do you think I can meet you now in company with equanimity?’

  ‘You can, madam, and you will.’

  ‘I will not.’ Ellen was on her feet now. ‘The news of our marriage must come out, that cannot be helped. I am prepared for our situation to be made public, for us to be ridiculed in broadsheets and pamphlets, but think of the uproar if it is discovered we are pretending to be strangers. I will not remain here to be humiliated.’

  ‘There need be no humiliation if you play your part.’

  Her lip curled. ‘Do you think the truth can be concealed? One slip, one wrong word and the gossips will begin to poke and pry. No, Your Grace, you claim that we are man and wife, well, so be it. We shall tell the truth and shame the devil, but I will not play your games.’

  She turned away, but in two strides he crossed the room and caught her arm, roughly pulling her back to face him.

  ‘Believe me, it is no game, madam.’

  The words were more of a growl and they sent a shiver running through Ellen. He was so close, towering over her, and awareness crackled between them. The blood pounded through her veins, she felt the power of him, his ability to send all coherent thoughts out of her head. No. She would not allow him to dominate her again. Sheer effort of will allowed her to meet his eyes.

  ‘I see no reason for the secrecy,’ she told him. ‘It would be intolerable to live such a lie.’

  ‘I am trying to protect a dying man!’

  * * *

  Max had not meant to tell her that, but she had goaded him too far. He saw her eyes widen in surprise and the combative fire in their blue depths was replaced by a puzzled look and
something softer, something that reminded him of the warm, generous woman he had known in the desert. He thought he had known. Abruptly he released her and walked back to the window, staring out across the Stray. People were promenading, wrapped up and battling against the wind that never seemed to ease up, even in summer.

  ‘What has my remaining in Harrogate to do with Frederick Arncliffe?’ she asked quietly.

  He knew if he wanted her help he would have to tell her something or the truth.

  ‘Fred and I have been friends since childhood. We joined up together, fought together. We were in the Peninsula, retreating towards Corunna when Fred was hit by the musket ball that he still carries in his lung. There was no time to find a surgeon so I patched him up as best I could and somehow we got him on to one of the ships for England. I had to do my best for him. It was my fault he took that bullet.’

  He thought of his life for the past four years. Every moment since Ellen had left him was full of grief, guilt and inescapable duty.

  ‘But I do not understand,’ she said. ‘What has this to do with me?’

  ‘When my brother died in a riding accident last year and I became the Duke, my family and friends threw themselves with enthusiasm into finding me a wife.’ He turned to face her. ‘I never told them about our marriage, you see. My pride would not let me. I felt such a fool, marrying a woman I knew nothing about, only to have her leave me and throw in her lot with the enemy.

  ‘I endured their hints and jests, the constant parading of eligible young ladies. I ignored it all, politely but firmly declined to show interest in any woman. Then Fred got it fixed in his head that his little sister Clare was the bride for me. He thought it a perfect solution, since I seemed so set against marriage. It would stop the matchmakers pursuing me, while making sure his sister and widowed mother were provided for, when he is gone. I should have killed the idea from the start, but that would have meant telling him the truth and I could not bring myself to do that. How could I explain to my best friend, a man who is closer to me than my own brother, that I had married and never told him of it?’ He read the concern in her eyes and added quickly, ‘Clare herself was never in any danger of believing the nonsense, nor her mother or Georgie. We all thought that, with Fred being so ill, it was best not to upset him. But as time has gone on the idea has become more and more fixed in Fred’s brain. I have promised him that I shall look after Clare and I will, but not as a husband.’

  ‘I quite see that it is a difficult situation,’ said Ellen. ‘However, I am sure, when everything is explained—’

  ‘No.’ Max shook his head. ‘Fred must never know that I am married.’

  She bit her lip. ‘I have been living a lie for nearly four years, Your Grace, I do not wish to compound it with more deceit. I beg you will let me take Jamie away. We could live at one of your properties while you remain in Harrogate. There would be no need then for anything to be said to distress your friend.’

  ‘Do you think I have not considered that?’ Max responded, impatience feathering his voice. ‘It will not do. I called upon the Arncliffes this morning and know full well that you and Georgie are engaged to meet at least three times in the coming week. She is your best friend; Frederick would expect you to tell her if you were leaving town. He is not a fool, he has already remarked how well we danced together last night. He might well guess at something near the truth.’

  She gave an impatient tut. ‘He is even more likely to do so if he sees us trying to act as strangers. I am no actress, I cannot, will not be part of such a ridiculous charade.’ She walked across the room and tugged at the bell-pull. ‘Jamie and I will leave Harrogate tomorrow. I can say urgent business has called us away. What you tell your friends here is up to you, but let us be clear. I will not stay.’

  ‘You are my wife, madam, you must do as I bid you.’

  ‘Must I?’ Blue eyes locked with green. Max saw the stubborn tilt to that dainty chin and knew she would defy him. She continued in a steely voice, ‘You may be a duke now, Your Grace, but unless you have the marriage certificate about you, the magistrate would have only your word against mine and the matter would not be resolved without a messy and very public brawl, which is exactly what you wish to avoid.’ Her eyes shifted to the door as the butler came in. ‘Snow will show you out. At present I have no idea where I shall go, but be assured I will keep you fully informed.’

  With the butler looking on Max was unable to reply. With no more than a nod he left her, acknowledging that she had won the first round of what was going to be a prolonged battle.

  * * *

  Ellen did not move as he left the room. She remained on her feet until she heard the soft thud of the front door. Only then did she collapse on to the nearest chair. She was shaking and wanted very much to burst into tears, but there was no time to succumb to such a weakness. There was much to do. A tiny, rebellious voice whispered that she could run away, set up home for herself and Jamie in another town, under another name, but Ellen knew that Max would hunt her down, not for her sake, but for Jamie’s, and if she pushed him too far he might well remove the boy from her care altogether.

  She rose and shook out her skirts with hands that were not quite steady. She would take Jamie somewhere they were not known and there she would await the Duke’s instructions.

  * * *

  A little over an hour later Ellen was in the morning room, writing yet another note regretfully cancelling an engagement, when Snow announced Mrs Arncliffe. Her heart sank when Georgie came in and dropped into a low curtsy.

  Ellen said bleakly, ‘He has told you.’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace.’

  ‘Pray, do not call me that. We are friends, or we were, until now.’ Ellen clasped her hands together. ‘You must think very ill of me, if Max told you how I deserted him.’

  There was nothing but sympathy in Georgie’s eyes when she replied, ‘He told me only there was a misunderstanding.’

  ‘Did he?’ said Ellen, surprised. ‘That is true, but I begin to think it was all on my part.’

  ‘I am sure you had good reason.’

  ‘I thought so, at the time.’ Ellen took a deep breath. ‘I thought Max had tricked me—that he was an imposter and the marriage was a sham. So I hid my disgrace, took another name and came here to live amongst you as a widow. It was wrong of me to deceive you so and I beg your pardon for it.’

  ‘I think I might have done the same, in your place.’

  Ellen managed a smile. ‘Bless you for saying so. Will you not sit down?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Ellen was gratified that Georgie chose to sit close, as she had always done. As if their friendship had not changed.

  ‘I had to come,’ Georgie said quietly. ‘Max told me that you were planning to leave immediately.’

  ‘I think I must.’ Ellen glanced at the little writing table. ‘I was going to pen a note to you, crying off from our walk this afternoon. I am sure you will appreciate there is a great deal to be done.’

  Georgie’s hand fluttered. ‘I have come to ask you. To beg you, not to go.’ Her eyes, heavy with sadness, flickered to Ellen’s face. ‘I have no right to ask it of you, but you said yourself we are friends and it is as a friend that I am here. Max came to see me, to warn me.’ She sighed. ‘You know what Harrogate is, Ellen. Your dancing with the Duke last night is already the talk of the town. If you leave Harrogate now, within days of your return, there is bound to be speculation. People will gossip, the resemblance between Jamie and the Duke will be remarked upon—it will be impossible to keep it all from Frederick and if he asks Max direct—’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘Fred loves the Duke like a brother. He would be deeply shocked and distressed that Max kept such a secret from him.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘I am very much afraid that he will take it very badly and any upset now lays him low.’

 
Ellen stretched out and touched her arm. ‘Oh, my dear.’

  ‘It was wrong to let Frederick think that Max would marry Clare, but you see, it gave him such comfort to think that his little sister would be established when he was no longer here to look out for her. We none of us thought it could do any harm, to humour a dying man. And he is dying, Ellen. You saw how tired and drawn he looked last night.’ Georgie wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘Dr Ingram called today and says it cannot continue much longer.’

  ‘I am so very sorry, Georgie, but—’

  ‘Please, Ellen, let me give you my reasons for asking you to stay. Believe me, I do not ask it lightly. Frederick is very fond of you and would take your leaving us now very hard. He worries about me, you see, and says often and often that he is glad I have such a friend as yourself to help me through the dark times that lie ahead. Also, Max is afraid that if Frederick found that he had been deceiving him all these years it would break his heart. It would certainly spoil their friendship, which would be very sad, for there is no time to rebuild the trust that has always existed between them. And, finally, if you were to remain here as Mrs Furnell, and to meet with the Duke, Fred might see for himself that Max and Clare will not make a match of it. He would not expect them to marry if the Duke’s affections are engaged elsewhere. He only suggested it in the first place because he knew Max had set his face against marriage.’ She stopped, taking a moment to collect herself. ‘Ellen, I know as well as you that Harrogate will be scandalised when the truth comes out and I quite understand that you do not wish to live a lie, but you have been deceiving us these past four years, have you not? Would it be so very hard to continue the charade for just a little longer?’

  Ellen looked into the anxious eyes fixed so beseechingly upon her and she felt her resolve weakening. She gazed down at her clasped hands, gazing at the plain gold ring, the symbol of her own lies.

  ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘You and Frederick have been such good friends to me that I cannot refuse.’ Ellen raised her head. ‘I gave you my word I would be here when you needed me, did I not? I will honour that promise.’