The Duke's Fated Love

by Emily Bow

  What? I stopped skimming, sat back down, and read the whole document.

  My heart shimmered as my brain connected the dots. Robert and Barbara Wilson were siblings. That was why he was meeting with her. Robert had found out he had a younger sister.

  Grandpa Duke had gotten around. And he’d had a secret baby—Barbara. That made Billy and Thorn first cousins. Their relationship explained Billy’s resemblance to the family.

  Robert must have figured it out on one of his retreats. He had to have taken the DNA test voluntarily; there was no reason for a court to order one. Inheritances historically went to the oldest child here in England and from the birthdates on the lab tests, Robert was the oldest.

  I put the test back in the envelope and put it inside the datebook. I could only guess at what Robert wanted to do with the information but that was no longer his generation’s decision. It was Thorn’s, and this was really good news.

  I checked my watch. In thirty minutes, Thorn was going to announce he knew all along Billy was his illegitimate half-brother. He’d be maligning his father and Barbara and exposing himself as a liar as soon as the real truth emerged.

  I tried my phone.

  No signal.

  The press could even come early. I needed to move. I ran to the door. I turned the iron knob. It spun in my hand and didn’t open.

  I stood there.

  My heart dropped.

  I was trapped inside the castle.

  Chapter 37

  I had better than a distraction for Thorn. I had good news. Thorn’s dad was the guy he’d always thought he was. He was going to love this information. I simply had to get to Thorn but I was stuck. Frustration shot through me. How had the door locked on this side? Why? Maybe I had found some old form of dungeon. Stupid. Stupid.

  I needed out.

  I banged on the door and the wood pricked into the sides of my hands. A scream burbled up inside me and I let it out. I full on yelled. I don’t think I’d ever truly screamed before. The act made my throat raw.

  No one answered.

  I dropped my forehead to the door and my hands to my sides. My cries were totally ineffective. Banging hadn’t brought help either. Now the sides of my hands stung, adding pain to my uselessness.

  Okay, breathe.

  Stop. Think. Analyze.

  Modern office. Old door. His dad had used this office. The door didn’t prop open. There was a keyhole. There had to be a key. I went back to the desk. The top drawer was locked. There was no key ring on the corkboard, but there was a little wooden box on top. I flipped the lid, revealing a number of small keys, none big enough to fit the door.

  Why? Why had someone designed the room this way? The question made me grin despite the anxiety curling in me. Every time we toured Europe, Dad analyzed some quirky architectural or technical feature and asked “why.” There were seldom logical answers to satisfy our American brains.

  I grabbed the small keys and tried the drawers. The third one opened the right-side drawer. Office supplies. It also unlocked the middle drawer.

  Flat leather cases lay inside. I peered into the first one. Antique necklace. Gold. Large teardrop diamonds. Okay. The next. Sapphire bracelet. Delicate. Stunning. Rich blue. Okay. The next had yellowed envelopes with old spidery handwriting.

  The professor would want copies. I pulled them out and placed them on the desktop. I could see to them later.

  The last thing in the drawer was an envelope that had been placed in a plastic baggie inside a leather case. Why had Duke Robert packaged that one differently? I lifted the baggie and checked the letter. 1856.

  I did the math in my head and then laughed. Even if Thorn’s grandfather lived a long and randy life, this letter was too old to be about today’s secret. I started to seal the baggy, but the item niggled at me, and my palms tingled.

  The envelope had been wrapped and secured in this room with gems as opposed to being out there among the frog figurines. Why?

  The stamp. One inch. Black and magenta paper. Like the world’s most famous stamp. The British Guiana stamp, which had sold to an anonymous bidder at Sotheby’s in 2014 for $9.5 million. My heart thumped.

  The baggie fell from my hand.

  9.5 million.

  I’d found a priceless stamp.

  Nine mil would fund a lot of community projects. A whole castle full and this treasure was sitting in a drawer.

  Dukes are crazy.

  I put everything back except the plastic bag. There…lying along the side of the drawer. A brass skeleton key. Yes. I grabbed the key, turned to go to the door, but spun back.

  I locked the drawers and pocketed the desk key for Thorn.

  I rushed to the door. I shoved the key in the lock and turned it. Nothing happened. My shoulders tensed. This had key had to be right.

  Broken spring. Stripped. Clogged. No time to take the mechanism apart.

  I withdrew the key and shoved the tip in again, and then I jiggled the end. There was an audible click. The knob caught and turned in my hand.

  I released a breath, opened the door and ran.

  I ducked against the low-ceiling stretch, then sprinting down the more modern tunnel. I rushed through the open door into the workroom, down the corridor, down the main stairway.

  I kept running, not slowing until I reached the front of the castle.

  Stupid.

  Big.

  Castle.

  I was huffing by the time I reached the empty front entryway.

  Thorn was already out there. I jolted for the door. And then I was outside.

  Chapter 38

  The sunshine hit me. Birds chirped in the distant trees. Bucolic splendor surrounded me. And in front of me? Modern journalists huddled at the bottom of the steps. At least ten men and women held either a shoulder camera or a microphone. Farther behind them stood Billy, noticeable because he stood alone.

  Up here with me, Thorn also stood alone. He was to my right, holding his own microphone, facing them.

  I had made it. Relief flooded me. The press needed something worthy to write about. I was going to give it to them.

  Thorn hadn’t turned at my arrival. He was speaking, “Family matters, by their very nature, are private. But given the speculation I’ve heard about my father, I’ve decided to…”

  I grabbed his arm.

  Thorn paused and lay his hand over mine. He squeezed my fingers, and then he held my hand.

  Sweet. He thought I was here for moral support, and he was taking it from me. My heart opened to him, but I physically swung in front of him. My eyes caught his. “Please trust me. Let me speak.” I mouthed the words so the microphone wouldn’t picked them up.

  He hesitated.

  Bright lights flashed in my peripheral vision. A reporter yelled out, “You said there’d be a statement.”

  I pleaded to Thorn with my eyes. Let me speak. Trust me. I could try to explain, but we had avid listeners behind us with microphones.

  I turned and spotted Billy again. There, behind the back row of cameramen. He had folded his arms over his chest, his face was pale, and his eyes shadowed. Maybe his barman father knew the truth and could have explained. Maybe he hadn’t broached the topic with his father, because from the anxious strain on his face, he didn’t know the truth, and he wanted to hear what was being said.

  I turned and covered Thorn’s hand over the microphone base and brought it to my lips. He kept his hand under mine as I turned to the crowd, facing the press.

  I hesitated.

  The situation would be better if I pulled Thorn and Billy inside and explained. Let Thorn talk to the reporters.

  No.

  I can do this.

  “I’m so excited you came here today.” My voice came out huskier than normal, and I wished I had water.

  “Oi, what’s your name, its spelling, and your relation to the castle,” one of the reporters called out. They all held notepads, cameras, or recording devices, and they all were staring at me.
<
br />   “Imogen Arundel.” I spelled it. “I work in cataloguing. We brought you here today to share wonderful news.”

  Thorn put his free hand on my waist.

  One of the reporters snickered. “Duke Robert has a daughter too? How old are you?”

  Okay, they were here to full on speculate. I swallowed. “The castle will be opened to the community.”

  Thorn stiffened behind me. As far as he knew, his plan was to lock the estate away.

  “Sorry, miss,” one of the reporters in the front, with slicked hair and an impatient expression, said, “We’re here about the duke’s mistress and the wreck that took his life. The drunk driver’s appeal is coming up. Those are the details we need today.”

  There were murmurs from the other reporters as he voiced the potential scandal.

  I ignored him. “This community built the castle, defended the castle, and worked at the castle. This castle is an equal part of the community’s history as much as it is the duke’s.”

  “That’s all fascinating, miss,” An older journalist wearing a tweed coat and narrow tie called out. “But we are here about the car crash and the duke’s fancy woman.”

  Some of the reporters chuckled, but their eyes were bright and greedy for the story.

  Billy clenched his fists. He was an easygoing guy, but he’d lost his mom, the dad he knew, and his girlfriend. His coming unhinged wasn’t out of the question.

  Thorn tugged at the microphone.

  I pulled it back. I had to take control of this.

  Another journalist started arguing with the guy and pointed at the castle. He wanted to know more.

  I caught Billy’s gaze. “While some matters are private, yes, we can all agree that it was a tragic loss for the family to lose both the duke and his half-sister Barbara Wilson.”

  I paused to let that sink in. The journalists murmured. Thorn’s hand at my waist squeezed. I covered his hand with my free one and rubbed my thumb over his knuckles. I wanted to convey with the stroke that I was telling the truth. I don’t know if I did, but he didn’t pull the microphone away.

  Billy stared hard at me. I tried to meet his gaze without drawing attention to him, so I nodded hurriedly, as quickly as my rapid heartbeat allowed and then focused on the interviewer who’d expressed interest in the castle. “Comments from the family regarding the criminal side of the events will come through the family’s attorney. We’re here to speak a small bit about the family, to confirm, yes, the duke knew the woman in the other car. Of course, he did. She was his half-sister and a part of this community. Given her love of the community, we thought it appropriate to share good news, too. We wanted to shed light on the castle community project and the treasure that will fund it.”

  None of the reporters left, which I’d half expected at this point and wouldn’t have hated.

  I tried to calm my racing pulse with a deep breath so my voice wouldn’t shake and tightened my hand on Thorn’s. “The current plan is to turn the castle into a historic community center. It’s early days though.”

  “Is this a plea for public funds or private ones?” one of the reporters snickered.

  I raised the plastic bag I’d found in the office and held it high. The cameras zoomed in. They didn’t know what I held, but they weren’t missing the money shot. “While cataloguing the contents of the castle, we uncovered many treasures. Those will be revealed in time. But for the news today, I thought I’d give you 9.5 million reasons to be interested in our project.”

  They looked at me blankly.

  “More news to follow, but for now, we’ll leave you with a shot of the most famous stamp in the world.” I handed the bag to Thorn and got behind him so the reporters could get the photo they really wanted—a duke and his money.

  “Thank you for your time,” Thorn said. Then we escaped into the castle.

  The second the door closed he took my arm. “I wasn’t wrong?” His eyes were shiny.

  I loved that. Despite all that he’d heard, and all that wasn’t said, and despite the fact that he was holding nine million dollars in his hand, his concern was about his father.

  “You weren’t wrong about him. I think your father found out about his sister recently. I found a DNA report from around the time when they were meeting. I can’t tell from skimming the journal exactly when he found out Barbara was his sister. But maybe you can.” I pressed the desk key into his palm.

  He moved to go up the stairs. “I need to speak with my mother.”

  “Thorn.”

  He turned to me.

  “The community center was the only thing I could think of as a reason for us standing out there today. You can say you changed your mind later.”

  Thorn returned to me, grabbed my arms and kissed me, a quick kiss, a grateful kiss that shot to my toes. “You were brilliant.” He let me go and ran upstairs.

  Billy came in the front door and shut it behind him, turning the lock. “What the…?”

  Chapter 39

  I explained to Billy, who was as relieved as Thorn. More relieved if possible. His whole body shook, and he wrapped his arms around himself and leaned against the wall.

  Thorn and his mother came downstairs together before Billy and I even finished talking.

  The duchess wore a green kaftan, no makeup, and had her hair back in a clip. She looked at me, and her face was stiff. She waved for us to join her in a side room, one of the family rooms.

  The decor was more modern than most of the castle’s rooms: leather sofas, a wide-screen TV, and fresh cut red roses in a vase on the coffee table.

  We all took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs and looked at each other.

  Thorn’s mom’s face crumpled, and she covered her mouth with her hand. There was a wadded tissue in her fist. “Thank you. For finding the news.” She pointed to her chest. “I knew in here. Despite how it looked. Your finding proof though. That’s…it’s…it’s good.”

  I nodded.

  “I knew it too,” Billy said. “You didn’t know my mom. She wasn’t…”

  We all looked at him, and his pale face flushed.

  “I mean…” He pointed to the duchess. “I knew it like she knew it. I knew my mom. She wasn’t what you thought.”

  Thorn nodded.

  There was a lull heavy with emotion. I broke the silence. “I know my castle announcement was presumptuous, but it was all I could think of on the spur of the moment, you can alter it later.”

  The duchess nodded and blew out a breath. “Thorn showed me the stamp. Sounds like Robert’s family. Collectors the lot of them. Cars. Horses. Evidently stamps.” She blinked. “We should get to know them better.” She smiled at Billy.

  Billy shifted in his chair, but he didn’t run from the room.

  “Yeah,” Thorn said. “What is it you’re studying at uni?” It was a polite question he could have asked any acquaintance, but here and now, the question meant more. Thorn was saying, I’m interested. Let me get to know you.

  Billy swallowed, but nodded as if welcoming the gesture. “Veterinary medicine. I’m going to be a large animal vet.”

  The duchess nodded, color and self-possession coming back to her face the longer we sat there. “Excellent. You can oversee the stable renovations and horse acquisitions.”

  “Oh.” Billy shook his head. “I’m just a student.”

  She rose. “Of course, we’ll hire mentors for you. But as you can understand, these things are best overseen by family.” She nodded. “So much to do. Thorn, be a dear, and arrange for architects for Billy to interview, won’t you? We’ll need structural reassurances before we start any major modifications.”

  “Of course.”

  The duchess moved to the door and turned to look at me. “We’ll certainly fund some type of community center. Maybe here at the castle. Maybe not. And name it for Barbara and Robert. I like that.” She nodded at me and reached for the door handle. “Thorn, when you show Billy around, I don’t know whether he’ll want his clin
ic in town or on the acreage. Will you sort it? I mean, not to intrude, but I will help with that, too.” Her shoulders sagged. “Just not today. It’s been a tiring day, I’m sure we can all agree. Tomorrow’s soon enough.” She put her chin up and left.

  ***

  I had my plane ticket home and only pieces to wrap up here. The plan was still to lock everything in the castle down until the artifacts could be assessed. Especially as I’d announced there was a nine-million-dollar stamp lying around. The castle needed security. They didn’t need me here any longer, and … no one had asked me to stay.

  One of the final things I needed to address was at the pub. I went there for lunch the next afternoon. Before ordering, I went straight up to the bar, to Billy’s father.

  He looked at me steadily with his light blue eyes, but not without welcome.

  “Before I leave, I wanted to apologize. For not talking to you first. And about how publicly everything fell out.”

  Billy’s dad pointed a bar cloth at me. “Oi, I had a right talk with Billy about it all.”

  His wife’s secret wasn’t my business, but I asked anyway, “Did you know?”

  “Aye. My wife didn’t have the DNA test back that the duke ordered, but she knew. There were always whispers. Then, after she was gone…” He looked away, and then returned his gaze to me. “Nothing mattered for a while, then I thought, best let sleeping dogs lie.”

  I understood that.

  He turned to the side to conceal the emotion on his face. His new position made the darkened wood of the wall behind him stand out. The wood was richer in color in the exact shape of where his gray muck of a landscape painting had hung.

  “You finally sent in the old master for a cleaning?” I smiled and winked. “You’ll have to get something to hang there until it returns.”

  “Right then.” He clutched the edge of the bar. “I did. Yesterday. After seeing you talk at the castle.” He shook his head. “Nine-million for a stamp. Some folks have more money than brains. But seeing as you’re the treasure hunter who found it, I had my say with Billy, and then I drove that painting up to London. Told them an expert assured me it was worth something.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “It’s worth millions. A Constable. I had to buy insurance for it. For a painting.” He shook his head again. “Though I do right miss it already, now that it’s gone.”