Metford looked at Julius. “You seem to be encouraging these delusions, if not wholly responsible for them.”
“Because they are not delusions,” Julius answered mildly. “Would you like to know why I am also absolutely positive of that?”
The older man looked fit to explode, the color deepening in his cheeks, his eyes glittering as if with a fever. “I would like you both to remove yourselves. You, to your bedchamber until you are feeling more yourself.” He glared at Bethany. “You, Andover, to taking yourself from this estate completely.”
“And how about me, Uncle Adrian? Would you like me to remove myself too?” James stepped into the room, gaze fixed upon the older man as he continued to walk toward the desk. “That would be a pity when I have only recently arrived.”
Adrian Metford’s eyes widened with shock, becoming even wider with each step James took toward him. The color, which had been so high in Metford’s cheeks just seconds ago, had all drained away, leaving his face white as candle wax and that manic, almost demented gaze, fixed upon the nephew he believed was dead.
He turned that crazed gaze upon Bethany and Julius. “Can you see him too?”
James chuckled as he leaned casually against the front of the desk. “I am not an apparition, Uncle Adrian,” he mocked before sobering. “If I were, you can depend upon it I would have haunted you long before this. For the beatings you regularly gave me for no reason. For hiring men to kill me.” He snorted. “Be assured, the only thing which has saved you from my wrath before now is the love and protection you have given my sister all these years, when I was unable to do so.”
Bethany stepped to his side and slipped one of her hands inside his much larger one, the two sharing a warm smile, before she turned to look at her uncle, her gaze cold with contempt. “How could you do such a thing? Why would you do such a thing?” she demanded to know.
“You have no proof I have done anything,” he challenged.
“Of course we have,” Julius stated not quite truthfully. “Letters. Documents. I have no doubt we could find a witness or two if we dug deeply enough. Now tell me.” His voice hardened. “Why did you have a sixteen-year-old boy killed?”
“Because the title should always have been mine and not that lily-livered sop who was my older brother.” Metford spat the words contemptuously, obviously goaded beyond what he could tolerate.
Bethany gasped. “My fa—David Metford,” she corrected huskily, “was a kind and loving man.”
“He had no backbone,” his brother dismissed. “I tried to talk to him, to persuade him round to my way of thinking regarding buying property in London. But he never had listened to me, was always the cautious one.”
“So what did you do?” Julius prompted softly. “Did the idea to murder Henrietta and David come to you before they had the influenza, or was their ill health too good an opportunity to miss?” He heard both James’s and Bethany’s indrawn breaths, but his gaze remained fixed upon the older man. He had not found opportunity to discuss this other suspicion with the brother and sister before now.
Metford looked up at him. “I would never have harmed a hair upon Henrietta’s head. I loved her. Unfortunately, the influenza took her from me,” he said bleakly.
“And David?”
“I felt no qualms about helping him on his way,” Metford stated coldly. “Disposing of the brat too, and ensuring I inherited the title as well as took control of the Metford fortune. How did you survive?” He looked at James accusingly.
“Sheer luck and previous good health, I expect,” James scorned. “You killed my father?”
“I…might have given him a little too much of the medication on one of my visits, which the doctor had left to ease his fever and discomfort.” The older man shrugged.
“I cannot believe… It is despicable,” Bethany accused. “To kill first your brother and then your nephew.”
“Except my nephew is not dead,” Metford snapped.
James looked at his uncle with complete contempt. “But you very soon will be. Dangling at the end of a hangman’s noose.”
Bethany felt as if she had received one shock on top of another these past twelve hours. James’s resurrection. Learning David and Henrietta were not her real parents nor James her brother. To now hear that Adrian Metford had actually killed his own brother, as well as attempting to murder his nephew, was almost beyond belief.
She gave a pained frown. “Why have you always been so kind to me if you felt this way?”
“Because you are my daughter,” he announced triumphantly. “Mine and Henrietta’s.”
Bethany had been feeling off-balance since the moment she learned she was not Lady Bethany Henrietta Metford at all but the illegitimate niece of the Duke of Blackborne.
Now she was glad that was the case, because it meant she could not possibly be related in any way to the madman who believed he was her father. “You and Henrietta…?” She released James’s hand to step away from him, not wishing to be touched by anyone at this moment.
Not even Julius?
Most especially not Julius.
What must he think of this situation, of her, now that he was aware of her illegitimacy, and of her dead mother and insane father?
“Just the once,” her “uncle” answered. “Henrietta and David’s relationship was strained after trying for another child for several years and failing.” He glanced at James. “I am surprised David was able to sire you!”
James scowled. “You had an affair with my mother?”
“Not an affair, exactly. I…comforted Henrietta one evening when David was out at his club. Afterward, Henrietta said it must never happen again, and it did not.” His expression became triumphant. “But that once was enough to produce Bethany. My daughter.”
“Did Henrietta tell you that was the case?” Julius prompted.
“She did not need to do so,” Metford crowed. “She and David took themselves and James off to the continent for several months, and when they came back, they brought Bethany with them. Of course she is my daughter.”
“I am not your daughter,” Bethany denied.
“Of course you are.”
“No. Nor am I David and Henrietta’s,” she said flatly. “They took me in after my real mother died and my father was too ill to care for me.”
Julius saw the way in which Bethany had paled. Not surprising when she had slept for only two hours or so earlier this morning and was now being bombarded with shock upon shock.
He moved around the desk to put his arm about her waist as he guided her across the room to stand in front of the window before taking her gently in his arms. “No matter what you are thinking,” he spoke softly so that only she could hear him, “you are wanted by your brother James and your Uncle Gabriel. You are also wanted by me,” he added softly.
“As your mistress?” she said bleakly.
“No, as my—”
“Put the pistol down, you fool!” James’s shout interrupted them.
Julius instinctively placed Bethany behind him as he turned to face the two men. What happened next seemed to occur as if in a dream.
Metford had removed a pistol from one of the desk drawers and placed it against his temple, and the two men were now struggling together, James to keep the pistol from being fired and Metford growling and cursing as he was thwarted again and again from shooting himself.
In the midst of the struggle, the study door was suddenly flung open, the butler, obviously drawn here by the shouting, now standing openmouthed in the doorway.
The sound of the pistol being fired reverberated around the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Ipswich House, London
One week later
“He’s here, Bethy.”
She turned slowly to look at the brother who had been returned to her a week ago, only for her to learn hours later he was not her brother at all. Except James constantly assured her that he was, that a little thing like not sharing the same blood m
ade no difference to the love he felt for her and always would.
The person who might separate them had now arrived.
Gabriel Templeton, the Duke of Blackborne, had returned from France this morning to be met by Julius Soames with the news that his niece was alive and waiting to meet him at Ipswich House.
Julius…
There had been no opportunity for the two of them to speak privately this past week.
Firstly, because there had been the authorities to satisfy concerning the suicide of Adrian Metford, the man most had believed to be the Earl of Ipswich. Lacey had confirmed to the authorities that the earl had shot himself with his own pistol while his nephew James had tried to stop him.
Next had come the journey to London. Julius needed to explain the situation to the Prince Regent and Bethany brought to the capital to meet her new uncle, who was already on his way back from France at Julius Soames’s behest. Bethany traveled in the carriage with her maid while the two men rode on horseback. The two nights they had spent staying at inns along the way had also offered no opportunity for her and Julius to be alone together.
Once they arrived in London three days ago, Julius had disappeared to Andover House, and she had not seen him again since.
For all that time, Bethany had been left to wonder what he would have said after “no, as my…” if allowed to finish the sentence.
One thing they had all agreed upon: it was better for everyone concerned that Adrian Metford had taken his own life and saved everyone the weeks or months of a trial, followed by his probable hanging.
The Prince Regent had already publicly recognized James as the rightful Earl of Ipswich.
Bethany had met and thanked, and very much liked, the three precocious young men responsible for saving James’s life ten years ago, who’d remained his friends ever since.
For his part, the moment Bethany’s future was settled, James had informed her he intended going to see Lady Beatrix Winter, the woman he loved and the sister of Lord Benedict Winter, in the hopes of persuading her to marry him.
All that remained for Bethany was to meet her uncle, Gabriel Templeton.
All!
“Bethy?” James prompted again.
She swallowed before speaking huskily. “I am ready.” She linked her lace-gloved hands together to stop them from trembling. She had chosen her gown of pale blue carefully, as she had the rest of her appearance, wishing above all to make a favorable impression upon her uncle.
“All will be well, Bethy,” James assured gruffly.
She sincerely hoped so, but at the moment, she had no idea what her future might hold. One thing she did know, she did not want to continue to be the reason for keeping James from the woman he loved.
Bethany’s thoughts deserted her completely as a tall and imposing dark-haired gentleman strode forcefully into the sitting room before she found herself the focus of a pair of piercing gray eyes.
“Dear God…” he groaned in wonder. “I should have known you for Elizabeth’s daughter the moment I saw you. You are so much like her.” He swept her up into his arms and held her tightly against him. “You can have no idea how good it is to see and hold you at last, my dear Bethany!” he murmured huskily.
If Bethany had any doubts she would be loved by her new uncle, then she no longer did. Gabriel Templeton spoke to her and held her in his arms with the utmost tenderness.
Those gray eyes were dark with the same emotion when he finally released her to instead place an arm securely about her waist to hold her at his side. As if he did not wish to stop touching her in case she should disappear. “May I introduce you to my wife? Victory, the Duchess of Blackborne and your aunt.”
“I am simply Victory,” he was gently corrected.
Bethany hadn’t previously noticed the tiny dark-haired woman standing across the room.
Bethany noted with shock that Julius was standing at that woman’s side.
“Victory, my love, this is my darling niece, Bethany,” the duke introduced proudly.
“I am so very pleased to meet you,” Victory greeted warmly.
Bethany was surprised to note that the other woman’s age was probably closer to her own than her husband’s. There was also a soft Cornish burr to the other woman’s voice not at all in keeping with the cultured voices of Society.
Victory gave a tinkling laugh, obviously having noted that surprise. “Gabriel married far beneath him, I am afraid.”
“I most certainly did not,” he announced decisively. “I consider myself lucky you agreed to have me.”
Victory gave Bethany a hug. “Your uncle and I are so very pleased to have found you,” she assured emotionally.
For the next hour, Bethany sat on the couch, conversing with her new uncle and aunt. She learned that her biological father had recently died in France. That her half brother was in prison, accused of having someone murdered. As Bethany had never met or known either of them, she could not mourn their loss.
She did quickly realize that Gabriel’s imperiousness hid a soft heart that belonged completely to his beloved duchess. Bethany now felt included in that love.
After knowing him for only an hour, she already knew she would love this uncle very much, along with the lovely Victory.
“But we are forgetting everyone else.” Gabriel smiled in apology at the other men before turning back to Bethany. “I believe you and Julius have some unfinished business to discuss.”
She gave Julius a startled glance. “We do?”
He bowed. “I should like to take you on a short carriage ride, with your uncle and brother’s permission?” He looked enquiringly at the two men.
Her uncle scowled. “You mentioned nothing earlier about taking her out of the house.”
That was possibly because Julius had not been in the same room with Bethany again until now, he acknowledged ruefully. One glance at her today, looking beautiful and composed in a gown of the palest blue, and all he wished to do was be alone with her and hold her once again.
It was either be alone with Bethany, if only for a short time, or his cock was in danger of bursting forth from his pantaloons.
“You have my permission,” James drawled with a knowing glance.
Gabriel gave a mock scowl. “Make sure you have her back here within half an hour.”
“Bethany?” Julius held his arm out for her to take.
She looked flustered and there was a blush to her cheeks as she rose to her feet and crossed the room to his side.
He swept her from the room the moment she placed her gloved hand on his forearm, pausing only long enough for the butler to assist Bethany into her cloak before stepping outside and into Julius’s carriage. He chose to sit on the seat next to her rather than opposite her as the carriage pulled away, reluctant to be far from her side now that he was with her again.
Julius was very conscious of the fact that Bethany had not spoken a word for the whole of those proceedings. Nor did she speak or look at him now. “Would you rather have not come out for a drive with me?” he prompted cautiously.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “That would depend upon the reason for it.”
“And if that reason is so that I might ravish you in private? At least you are looking at me now,” he drawled when Bethany gave him a sharp glance.
“That is because… You cannot…” She shook her head. “What did you wish to speak to me about, my lord?” she prompted coolly. “If you are concerned I might mention our previous intimacies to either my brother, or my uncle and aunt, then be assured I shall not—”
“How about the ones we are to indulge in in future?” Julius’s patience, in the face of his need to hold Bethany and make love to her again, was quickly deserting him.
Her eyes widened. “I do not think—”
“Please do not think too deeply.”
Bethany’s heart was fluttering wildly, her gloved hands so tightly gripped together, she was sure her knuckles were white beneath the lace. “I b
elieve you denied having any intention of making me your mistress?”
Blue eyes became stormy. “Because I do not.”
“Then—”
“Bethany,” his voice gentled. “I wish you to be my countess, not my mistress.”
She moistened the dryness of her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Your countess?”
“Yes.”
Bethany shook her head. “An earl cannot marry a bastard. Even if she is the bastard niece of a duke,” she added bitterly.
“This earl can marry whomever he damn well pleases,” Julius assured arrogantly. “As long as the lady loves me as much as I love her,” he added softly.
She stared at him. “You love me?”
“More than anything. England. The earth, the moon, and the stars,” he vowed earnestly.
“But—”
“Do you love me?”
“I cannot—”
“Please say yes, Bethany.” Julius took her into his arms. “I love you.” His kissed her brow. “So very much.” Her cheek. “I adore you.” Her lips. “Worship you.” Her throat. “I love you with all my heart and wish to marry you.”
“You will be shunned by Society—”
“They would not dare,” he assured with certainty. “Neither Gabriel nor I, nor any of our friends, will ever allow anyone to treat you with anything less than the respect you deserve. Whether you marry me or not,” he added huskily.
The coldness which had been lodged in Bethany’s chest since she last saw Julius began to slowly, and then rapidly, melt, filling her heart with the love she had held in check since they last spoke. “I love you,” she told him emotionally. “I love you so very much.”
“Then marry me.”
She now had the answer to Julius’s unfinished remark. “I have heard no proposal. Nor do I wish to,” she hastily assured as Julius would have spoken. “Because I could never accept.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Not even if I were to beg?”
“No,” she choked.
“What if I were to tell you the Prince Regent has already granted us a special license so that we might marry whenever we please?”
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