by Fanny Walsh
He also, deep down, did not want to believe that Theodore was capable of threatening his own kin.
For the time being, Duncan pushed aside the thought. Soon enough, he would indeed confront Theodore and get to the bottom of whatever involvement his cousin had in this whole sordid affair.
He thought back to the things he had said to Mary. Regardless of who was making these threats and attempts on her life, he still fully intended to keep his promise to Mary. He also fully intended to marry her, threats on his own life be damned.
With this resolve, he retired to bed, planning the very next day to begin tracking his cousin. He meant to put an end to the madness once and for all as quickly as possible.
The next day, Duncan arrived at his office. He checked with his nurse to ensure that he had no pressing appointments that day. Once she confirmed that he did not, he dismissed her for the day and began finalizing his preparations to find Theodore.
Just as he was preparing to leave, he heard the sound of his office door closing. Duncan froze, and for a moment he dared to hope that Theodore had made his way to him, thus saving him the task of catching him.
Moments later, however, it was his father’s face he saw in his open doorway.
“I expected that you would be here,” the elderly Earl said distastefully.
“Forgive me, Father, but I was just on my way out,” Duncan said.
“I believe you might change your mind once you hear what it is that I have to say,” his father said. Duncan studied his father’s face carefully, detecting a glint of dry humor in his eyes.
Dread began building in Duncan’s stomach, and he knew that, whatever the reason for his father’s visit, it certainly could not be good.
“I will attend, Father, but please, be brief. I have a rather urgent errand,” Duncan said as pleasantly as he could manage.
“I should think that you do,” the Earl said.
Duncan’s heart skipped. Did his father know of his intentions to track down Theodore, or why he was doing so? How could he know?
Puzzled, Duncan gestured for his father to take a seat, to which the Earl shook his head.
“Perhaps it is you who should sit, son,” his father said.
Duncan shook his head, becoming agitated with the drawn-out affair his father was making of his business at his clinic.
“Please, Father, tell me what this is all about,” Duncan said. To his surprise, his father got straight to the point.
“Have you a bride?” the Earl asked bluntly.
Duncan stared blankly at his father, feeling both angered and nervous. He had, indeed, found his intended bride, but he had not considered his father’s six-month ultimatum when deciding to end the threats on Mary’s, and now his, life before arranging the wedding.
“How could I have wed so soon, without you knowing?” Duncan asked, desperately hoping to extinguish the conversation before it could go further.
“You know well what I mean, Duncan,” his father said, a sharp edge creeping into his voice.
On a whim, Duncan decided to tell his father the truth. Or, at least, as much of the truth as was necessary, in the hopes of pacifying the elderly man.
“Yes, Father, I have selected my bride,” Duncan said.
The Earl froze, momentarily looking statuesque in the middle of his office. Duncan resisted a small smile at having utterly shocked his father so.
“Is that not the news you wished to hear?” Duncan asked.
“It is happy news, indeed, son,” the Earl said, sounding anything but pleased. “However, I do hope you intend to wed her in far less than six months’ time.”
Duncan’s heart raced.
“The agreement was six months, father,” Duncan said.
“Well, now I am changing that agreement,” the elderly man said, his voice quickly rising.
As the elderly man continued bellowing, Duncan heard a shuffling sound outside his office door. He looked up, past the older man, and caught a glimpse of Mary as she ran away from the door.
Furious, Duncan flew from his seat.
“You cruel, arrogant fool,” Duncan thundered, his voice filling the entire room.
“You would do well to mind your tone with me, son,” his father said, his face reddening immediately.
“I will do no such thing,” Duncan said. “You quite likely just destroyed any chance I had of marrying the only woman I ever loved. If she heard all of what you had to say just now, she will likely never so much as speak to me again.”
Duncan’s father laughed.
“All the better,” he said. “Now you have no excuse not to find another bride by the end of the month.”
“This is not over,” Duncan hissed as he rushed from his office.
Despite the odds, he hoped that he could catch Mary before she got too far. He checked the other rooms in the clinic, in case she had ducked inside to await his father’s departure, but she had not. Nor was she in the waiting room or the doorway of the clinic.
Duncan rushed through the door, praying for a glimpse of her carriage or to see her traveling on foot. Mary, indeed, was still boarding her carriage when he burst through the exit. However, his relief was short-lived.
“Mary, darling, wait,” Duncan said.
Mary refused to turn to face him, but he heard a quiet sob. Duncan’s heart twisted at the sound.
“Please, allow me to explain,” he continued.
Now seated in the carriage, Mary at last looked at Duncan.
The look on her face pierced Duncan’s soul. Her eyes were red and full of betrayal, and her chin trembled slightly, despite the force with which she bit her bottom lip.
The force of the effect that Mary’s facial expression rendered him momentarily speechless, giving Mary just enough time to slam shut the door to the carriage.
Desperate, Duncan knocked on the door. Ignoring him, Mary ordered the driver to take her home. Duncan tried in vain to follow the carriage, but it was soon moving too fast for him to catch.
He stood panting for a long moment, too stunned to think. Then, he remembered his father waiting smugly in his office, and he stormed back to his clinic.
When he returned to his office, Duncan strode across the room until he was standing mere inches from his father.
“You have ruined one thing too many in my life,” Duncan hissed. “I will be damned if you are going to ruin this for me, as well. I will have this, and there is not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
His father’s eyes burned with fury.
“You will cease speaking so disrespectfully to me this instant, or I shall disinherit you, effective immediately,” he spat.
Now, it was Duncan’s turn to laugh. The sound was dry and bitter.
“By all means, Father, disinherit me,” Duncan said. “Compared to Mary, your titles and fortune mean nothing to me.”
“You test me, Duncan,” his father said, the red in his face turning to purple.
A part of Duncan wished that his father would fall to the ground dead that very moment, but he felt instantaneous guilt at the very idea. However angry he was with the man, he was still Duncan’s father.
“It is you who is testing me, Father,” Duncan said, his voice lower but much more menacing. “I do not care if you disinherit me. It does not matter to me whether I am an Earl or a peasant. I will love and marry the extraordinary woman you just frightened away with your vulgar display.”
“I suppose you would not need to care about inheriting my title and money once you married her, would you?” his father retorted.
The implications in his father’s words almost made Duncan snap. He stepped away from his father, with his hand clenched into a fist. He knew well that he would never strike his father, but he ached to hit something. With great difficulty, Duncan restrained himself.
“I do have a bit of news for you before you do disinherit me, however,” Duncan said.
He felt guiltier still for what he was about to say, but he found that
his anger and fear of having lost Mary would not allow him to stop speaking.
“That my son has gone completely mad? Yes, I am well aware,” his father said, howling with laughter at his clever joke.
Duncan closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before he continued speaking.
“I believe that this bit of news will be much less humorous to you, Father,” Duncan said.
“Make it quick,” the Earl said. “I have paperwork to begin drawing up.”
Duncan ignored the smug expression on his father’s face as he spoke. He knew that what he had to say would soon permanently remove that smugness, and another pang of guilt seized him. It was too late now, however, so he pressed on.
“Your intended substitute heir has a bit of a problem,” Duncan said, speaking slowly.
It was already having the anticipated effect. The Earl’s face fell, and his eyes narrowed.
“What sort of problem would that be?” he asked.
Duncan paused to move slowly across his office to pour a snifter of brandy. He held up the glass toward his father, silently offering his father a drink.
The man ignored the gesture. Duncan replaced the decanter’s top and moved even more slowly back to his seat behind his desk, trying to regain some control over his emotions. Even though he was angry, he did not enjoy breaking such terrible news to his father.
He made himself comfortable, took a long, indulgent drink of the brandy, and put the glass on the desk. Then, he looked up at his father with a bland expression on his face.
“Perhaps you should sit, Father,” Duncan said. Again, the older man ignored him.
“Suit yourself,” Duncan said.
“Tell me, what is this problem of Theodore’s?” The older man growled. “I will not ask again.”
“There are two problems,” Duncan said, ignoring his father’s growing frustration.
“What are they?” the man said. “Out with it.”
“Well, it would seem that Theodore has quite the affection for placing bets in card games,” Duncan said deliberately.
The Earl barked a laugh.
“What man does not?” he asked. “If you thought you were telling me some grave secret, you are mistaken, son.”
Duncan nodded slowly.
“Indeed, all men enjoy a good card game from time to time,” Duncan said. “But tell me, Father, how many of them perpetually lose their every last cent in each one they play?”
The color drained from his father’s face, and Duncan had to suppress a laugh.
“You are lying,” the Earl said. He put his hand on the back of the chair in front of him to steady himself.
“I am no more lying than you are poor,” Duncan said.
His father succumbed to a fit of coughing. Despite his anger, Duncan could not help feeling pity for his father.
When the fit was over, the older man stumbled over to the brandy decanter. With trembling hands, he poured himself a full glass of the dark liquor. Instead of offering his father assistance, Duncan remained seated, not wishing to further wound the man’s pride.
At last, the man shuffled back to the chair and collapsed into it, splashing some of the liquid down his shirt. Duncan winced.
“I did not tell you to stop talking,” the Earl said. He tried to sound menacing, but his voice came out thick and strained.
“Of course, Father,” he said. “Theodore seems to have a knack for losing every card game he plays. Quite frankly, I think that the gamblers in town have him pegged, and likely lure him into rigged games. Or, perhaps he really is that terrible of a card player.”
Inspiration seemed to strike the Earl.
“And you have proof of this, I suppose?” he asked, some of his red splotches returning.
“Besides all the money I have given to Theodore so that he could keep his secret from you?” Duncan asked.
His father slammed his brandy glass down onto the desk.
“How long have you known of this?” he roared.
“Since Theodore and I were young men,” Duncan said.
“And you felt no need to tell me?” the Earl asked, falling victim to another coughing spell.
“I could not bear to burden you with such devastating news,” Duncan said. “But if it is proof that you need, simply ask him about his finances. I am sure that you will find his bank account to be much less financially sound as his father would believe it to be, considering that that’s where Theodore gets all of his money.”
Duncan smirked bitterly as he recalled the blow his own finances had taken because of his cousin. “That is, all the money that he does not get from me to keep him out of trouble.”
His father stared at him for a long moment. Duncan used his father’s silence to finish delivering the bad news.
“He also is overly fond of the drink,” Duncan said, holding up his own glass of liquor.
“Now I know that you are lying,” the Earl said, but he did not at all sound sure of himself. “He will not even partake in a glass of wine when we dine together.”
“That is because there is not a deck of cards and a pile of his money on the table,” Duncan said.
He felt a stab of remorse for divulging the secrets that he swore to his beloved cousin he would take to his grave. But he knew that it was time his father knew of them, before he handed over the entire inheritance to Theodore and led their family to ruin.
Duncan finished off his glass of brandy and then poured himself another. The Earl reached for his own glass and blanched, placing it back on the desk without taking another drink.
Duncan allowed the news to sink in with his father for several moments. He was still furious about his father frightening away Mary, and while he was not pleased with having upset his father so, he was also in no rush to console him. The truth was sour and cruel, but it was the truth.
“It sounds to me like you are little better than your cousin,” the Earl said, but his words held no malice. “Enabling and covering for him are just as bad as his habits.”
“Perhaps that is partly true,” Duncan began. “However, it is not me who is about to hand him the entirety of our family’s money, land, and titles and make myself directly responsible for the complete ruin of our family and our name.”
At that, the Earl fell silent. Duncan could see the devastation on his father’s face. However, he had no intention of trying to soothe the elderly man’s distress.
“Leave me, father,” Duncan said. “I have work to do.”
He expected the elderly man to have another sharp remark, but to his surprise, his father rose silently and walked slowly out of his office.
Chapter 27
Mary’s mind raced. She could not believe what she had overheard. Had she not heard the words herself, she likely would not have believed it.
But there it was; undeniable proof that her uncle had been right about Duncan all along. She felt foolish for believing Duncan when he told her that the secrets he had divulged to her that day was all he was keeping from her.
Briefly, she wondered if he had also been lying about being capable of fixing her leg. The thought started her tears anew, and she buried her face in her hands.
She had tried to explain things to Susan when she returned to the carriage, but all she could do was sob, and all Susan could do was watch Mary cry with sympathy and concern.
“Milady,” Susan said at last. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but perhaps your uncle will know how best to help.”
Mary’s sobs quieted. She had not thought to seek her uncle’s council. Of course, he would know what to do. Mary hesitated for a moment, wondering if he would indeed help, or if he would shun her for making the decision to marry Duncan against his wishes.
No, she thought at last. He loves me, despite my poor choices.
“Yes,” Mary said, smiling at Susan through her tears. “What a wonderful idea. Thank you, Susan.”
“Of course, milady,” Susan said, smiling back
at Mary kindly. Before Mary could say a word, Susan signaled for the carriage to change course and head for her uncle’s estate.
It was nearing midnight by the time they reached her uncle’s home. It was then that Mary realized that she was not prepared for a trip longer than the one into town for which she had departed earlier in the evening.
