by Nichole Van
“Your father married, and is still married, to Catharine Ross. He married her two years before he wed your mother.”
Rafe would relive those words—that moment—for years afterward.
The sheer shock—
Your father is still married . . .
He dropped to his knees, his legs abruptly no longer up to the task of holding him upright. Sophie sank with him.
“W-w-what did you say?” he whispered.
“The Duke of Kendall is a bigamist. Your parents were never legally married.”
He let that sink in, thoroughly drill into the depths of his soul.
The Duke of Kendall is a bigamist.
Your parents were never legally married
. . .
. . .
. . .
Hallelujah!!!
He closed his eyes, his chest expanding, the news blazing through his blood.
He opened his eyes to meet her brilliant green gaze.
“Allow me to explain,” she continued. “The Duke of Kendall married Miss Catharine Ross in the parish church in Aboyne two years before he wed Lady Elspeth Gordon, third daughter of the Earl of Ayr. His first marriage is entered, neat and legal, in the parish records in Aboyne—George Gilbert married Catharine Ross on the 9th of November, 1781. The marriage was even registered with the local sheriff. No one could contest the legality of their marriage. Of course, being that his first wife still lived, your father’s subsequent marriage to Lady Elspeth Gordon was never legal.”
Rafe blinked and then blinked again.
His parents were never married.
But that meant—
“I’m a bastard!” He said the words in a tone of utter wonder . . . like one might exclaim, I’m a father! or I’ve won a lottery!
She laughed, a giddy, soft breath of sound. “You are.”
He joined her laughter. He longed to whoop his joy, to crow it from the rooftops. He settled for standing and pulling her to him.
“I never thought I would be so happy to be declared a filius nullius. Are you certain?” He snatched her shoulders. “Can this truly be proved?”
“Yes, absolutely.” She grinned widely, pressing her palms to his chest, bopping up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his mouth. “I would have approached you sooner, but I wanted to make sure that everything was ready to be set in motion. Your father has gone to considerable effort to hide his first marriage—including dire threats to John and Catharine—so it took some effort to convince her to cooperate.”
“But that poor woman . . . now she will be married to him—”
“Not for long, I do not think. Scottish law, unlike English law, allows a woman to file for divorce on the basis of abandonment. She will have a clear-cut case. At the very least, your father will have to grant her a legal separation.”
He rocked back on his heels, shock and wonder fizzing in his blood.
Sophie grabbed the lapels of his evening coat. “Honestly, there is so much to tell. Once Catharine realized that her voice needed to be heard—that she would have support and friends to bring Kendall to justice—she poured out the entire sordid tale. How Kendall had pursued her throughout their Grand Tour—Catharine refusing to become his mistress, and Kendall refusing to marry her. Eventually, Kendall followed her back to Drathes Castle which had been left to John by an uncle. Kendall capitulated and agreed to the marriage, thinking to do a less-traditional hand-fasting that would be unlikely to stand up to scrutiny in an English court. Catharine, no slow-top, insisted on the marriage being done proper-like in the parish church in Aboyne, the bans read for three Sundays and the marriage registered with the local sheriff.”
“I can scarcely believe he married like that—”
“I cannot agree more. But he was furious with Catharine’s intransigence in becoming his mistress and wished her capitulation. He likely figured he could brazen his way through any consequences.”
“Sounds like my father.”
“Indeed, it does. Not surprising, the marriage collapsed rather quickly. There were, thank goodness, no children from the union. Your grandfather summoned your father back to London and insisted he marry your mother, Lady Elspeth. Your father, being a coward at heart, never mentioned his first marriage. He married Lady Elspeth and then sent Beadle to Catharine and John with a threatening letter, telling them both to stay silent or else. That was a message he reiterated over and over again—”
“Does Catharine still have all those threatening letters?”
“Of course! She is frightfully intelligent, once one excuses her poor lapse in judgment with regards to Kendall. Apparently, John wished for years to expose the duke’s perfidy, but Catharine refused to allow him to say anything. She was terrified Kendall would have Ross killed in order to silence him.”
Rafe paused. “She was wise to be so concerned.”
“I agree. Regardless, John kept his silence. He worked in Bath for many years, well away from London and Kendall. But then my mother—no longer Miss Anne Montague, but Lady Mainfeld now—removed to Bath, and she and John reignited their love affair. Catharine says that Kendall became incensed, worried that his secret would slip out. That worry only increased with my birth—”
“No wonder my father hates you with such vitriol. Seeing you would be like looking at Catharine reincarnated. All it would take is one person remembering her and then digging into the odd resemblance between you to uncover nearly everything—”
“Precisely! Kendall repeatedly threatened my mother, too, sending her letters periodically. So much so, that even the mention of my natural father sent her into hysterics. She refused to tell me about Dr. Ross for fear of what Kendall would do. It is why she delayed my come-out for years, terrified of Kendall, as I so greatly resembled Catharine.
“As for John, he eventually moved to London, as his practice thrived more there. But Kendall didn’t catch on for years that John was in London. Of course, by that time, John’s health had deteriorated such that he needed to retire. Apparently, the doctor’s slide into dementia happened slowly, and he was decidedly vocal about his sister’s marriage. Kendall didn’t want John to blurt out the information to someone, and so the duke insisted on placing John under house arrest in Edinburgh with Beadle as his guard. Of course, it was all for naught, in the end, as John told me about Catharine’s marriage.”
Rafe shook his head, so many puzzle pieces slotting into place. “No wonder Beadle appeared so shocked to see us together . . . me with you, the image of Catharine. And then us, together, asking after Dr. Ross. The man must have panicked.”
“You have the right of it. Which explains why he sent Grant to deter us from arriving at Drathes Castle. I understand Grant regularly treks up to Drathes Castle and ‘reminds’ Catharine of Kendall’s power to destroy her, basically ensuring her continued silence.”
“Bloody eejit.”
“Truthfully. So much effort to protect Kendall from the consequences of one monumental lie.” Sophie paused. “I hope you are not upset, but I had to approach my father with this—”
“Lord Mainfeld?”
“Yes. I needed help, as I wasn’t sure how to proceed from this point. It’s one thing to know that a duke is a bigamist. It’s something else to then take legal action. But my father knew what to do. He is already marshaling support in Parliament. A duke, of course, can only be accused and tried for a crime such a bigamy in the House of Lords—a jury of Peers. Therefore, the accusation could be brought against your father when Parliament opens on Monday. My father believes that the charge will stand up to any legal test.”
She swallowed, running a hand down the lapel of his evening claw-hammer coat, before giving him a small smile. “Of course, all this supposes that you would like to go forward with this. Obviously, your mother and sister should be consulted, too. If you do not wish to expose your father as a bigamist and a fraud—knowing the consequences, that you and your siblings will be declared illegitimate—then nothing will happen. At
the very least, you should be able to use the information to blackmail Kendall into giving your mother her freedom.”
Rafe absorbed her words, the hope of them finally sinking deep.
However, his logical mind picked through the salient points, cataloging the rippling effect of this knowledge.
His parent’s marriage was invalid. And English law being what it was, nothing could make it retroactively valid at this point.
Absolutely nothing.
Rafe and his siblings would be declared illegitimate.
His brother would lose the title. The dukedom would likely pass to their insipid Cousin Frank. His father’s entire legacy would be destroyed in an instant.
But . . . his mother would be free. It would be as if the marriage had never happened, Kendall forever banished from her life.
For Rafe’s part, he would retain his properties and monies, as they were all tied to his maternal grandmother’s will, not his father’s estates. His mother’s dowry would revert to her and provide her with sufficient income to live.
Kate and her children would suffer some loss of status, but Kate’s husband was a good man. He would likely support whatever decision Rafe’s sister made.
But what did Rafe wish to do?
Blackmail his father?
Or publicly, openly, thoroughly humiliate the man?
Rafe instinctively wanted to side with humiliation. The scorn of being exposed as a bigamist would torment his father.
Kendall deserved that and more.
But . . .
. . . the decision hinged on more than mere revenge, Rafe realized.
Kendall was, simply put, not to be trusted. Blackmailing the man might work for a time, but the duke was wily and cunning. Rafe wouldn’t put it past him to kill Catharine or John in order to ensure their silence.
No, it would be better for all parties to have the truth out in the open.
So in answer to Sophie’s question, Rafe had only one reply—
“I would see Kendall’s crime’s exposed to the light of day,” he said. “Let the battle begin.”
He would still need to consult with his mother and sister, but his own decision had already been made.
He threaded his fingers through Sophie’s. Had anything ever felt so momentous? Holding the hand of a woman he finally had no intention of ever losing?
He pressed his forehead to hers, emotion welling in his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For never giving up.” He leaned in and kissed her.
“You do realize that this is just the beginning of a long fight? Your father will contest this with everything he has.”
“Aye, but he doesn’t have right on his side. I intend to see justice meted out.”
31
Two days later, Sophie sat in the gallery in the House of Lords, nestled between her mother on one side, and Lord Rafe on the other. Lady Hadley, Rafe’s cousin of sorts, sat beside him.
Lord and Lady Hadley—or Andrew and Jane as Sophie now thought of them—had both mustered their own considerable support throughout the peerage for Rafe and his mother. Kendall had made many enemies over the years with his heavy-handed ways, so it was not difficult to rally members of Parliament to their cause.
Lord Hadley currently sat beside Lord Mainfeld on the floor of Lords, both sporting their official robes in honor of Parliament convening, their earl coronets of alternating laurels and pearls glinting in the sunlight washing from windows high above.
Rafe’s weekend had passed in a blur. First, he had visited Kate and her husband, telling them the news. Kate had broken down, sobbing. Rafe had been concerned, until he realized, that like himself, hers were tears of relief. Kate vehemently wished their mother’s freedom. Her husband stood at her side, asserting that any slight to their social standing and that of their children was a small price to pay.
After that emotional moment, Rafe and Andrew began planning their attack, while ignoring the increasingly incensed letters from Kendall, demanding Rafe propose immediately to Miss Sykes. His mother remained in residence at Gilbert House, but Rafe refused to set foot inside the place, not knowing what Kendall might do.
This morning, after his father had left for Parliament, Rafe and Andrew had arrived at Gilbert House with a contingent of footmen and removed the Duchess of Kendall from the residence. His father’s butler had stood by, angrily fuming but otherwise helpless.
His mother had devolved into a weeping mess when told of her husband’s perfidy. But to her credit, the duchess instantly supported the dissolution of her marriage. In fact, the very idea greatly rallied her spirits. They had left her in Kate’s care, playing happily with her grandchildren.
Now as Sophie sat in the visitor’s gallery, she studied the back of Kendall’s head. He sat beside the Duke of Montacute with a haughty expression. Did Kendall suspect what was to come? If so, he gave no sign of it.
The man was supremely arrogant, used to heaven and earth bending to his will. Rafe had returned from Scotland, after all. So Kendall assumed that Rafe, if he had reached Drathes Castle, had found nothing.
Regardless, given the lengths Kendall had gone to in order to suppress the information about his first marriage, Sophie did not think he would succumb easily to the accusation of bigamy. They faced a long fight. The House of Lords, this morning, was simply the opening salvo. And in the end, the only punishment that could be meted out to Kendall was the dissolution of his second marriage. As a duke, he could not be sent to prison, nor could his lands and title be removed.
Sophie clenched her hands together, willing them to stop trembling. Rafe smiled at her and wrapped her fingers with his, easing her nerves.
The Prince Regent arrived, his portly body waddling the length of the hall, the creaking of his corset heard clearly even up in the gallery. Though resplendent in royal robes of red and ermine, His Highness was not in the best of health, his heaving chest and pallid skin apparent even from a distance.
He sat upon the throne at the far end of the hall, raising a hand in greeting before giving his traditional speech to open parliament.
Sophie tried not to let her attention wander as Prinny lamented that his father, King George III, was yet indisposed. Manufacturing concerns required their attention. The military needed to be strengthened, and so forth.
After His Highness finished, Earl Manvers rose to make some obsequious remarks, all but fawning over Prinny’s speech. Lord Churchill agreed. Earl Grey then rose and spoke at such length—and in such a convoluted manner—that Sophie despaired of making heads or tails of it. Even Prinny nodded off. Finally Earl Grey sat down to harrumphs and sighs of relief.
Then . . . the Earl of Mainfeld stood.
“Your Highness.” He nodded to the Prince Regent. “My peers in Lords, I have a grave matter to bring before you at this time.”
“Indeed,” Prinny intoned. “Continue.”
The Duke of Kendall finally turned in his seat to look at Mainfeld standing several rows behind him.
Mainfeld met Kendall’s gaze, steely determination in his eyes. Never had Sophie been so proud of her father as in that moment.
Kendall’s expression morphed in an instant, rage darkening his features.
He knew.
He knew what was to come.
But Mainfeld was already talking, “It has come to my attention that one among our illustrious members has been shockingly dishonest, both with us, and with God—”
“YOU ARE A LIAR!!” Kendall lurched to his feet, whirling to face Mainfeld, expression mottled and ugly. He lunged forward, as if he would reach across the intervening row to grab Mainfeld’s robe. Mainfeld shied back.
Pandemonium erupted.
“I say!” Someone called out.
“What is this?” asked another.
A woman screamed in the gallery.
The Duke of Marlborough hauled Kendall back into his seat.
The Lord Speaker pounde
d his gavel, calling for order.
“You will stay SILENT!!!” Kendall roared, shaking off Marlborough and lunging again across the row of earls to get at Mainfeld.
Hadley threw himself between Kendall and Mainfeld, while a group of lords pulled Kendall back.
“ENOUGH! SILENCE!” Prinny rapped his scepter on the marble floor. He waited in stony silence.
Kendall jerked himself free, chest heaving, shooting daggers at Mainfeld.
He pointed a shaking hand at Sophie’s father, turning to Prinny. “Whatever this man says is a lie, Your Highness! You all know Mainfeld has hated me for—”
“I said silence, Kendall,” Prinny said, eyes narrowing. “Clearly, you suspect that whatever Mainfeld will say pertains to you, but as of yet, Lord Mainfeld has made no accusations.”
Kendall opened his mouth and took a small step forward, as if he would continue to speak. Prinny held up a staying palm.
“I find it rather odd, Kendall,” the prince continued, “that you would jump to protest your innocence before your name has been mentioned, much less any accusation laid against you. You will be seated.”
Kendall faced the Prince, chest still heaving.
Finally, with a shake of his head, Kendall turned back to his seat.
Though as he moved, the duke turned his head and met Sophie’s gaze in the gallery above, as if feeling the weight of her eyes.
Sophie stared him down. The fury in Kendall’s gaze sent a skittering sensation across her skin. The duke’s eyes darted to Lady Mainfeld beside her and then to Rafe on her other side.
He retook his seat, but Sophie could see growing panic in the set of his shoulders.
Prinny waved his jeweled fingers at Mainfeld. “Please enlighten us, Mainfeld, as to the cause of Kendall’s distress.”
Her father straightened his shoulders, shot a glance at Kendall, and then addressed Prinny: “Your Highness, after reviewing evidence and hearing the testimony of witnesses, it is my belief that the Duke of Kendall should be charged with bigamy.”
Lords erupted into pandemonium once again. The Duke of Kendall shot to his feet, shouting his innocence, denouncing Mainfeld. Others called and hollered, pointing fingers.
