“None that I can think of. And certainly none who’d be Guthrie’s age right now.”
“No.” She tapped her fingers lightly on Debrett’s. “Still, he must be in here somewhere.”
“Then let’s keep looking.”
Regina turned the page and then another. Half an hour later, she stopped at a name that jumped out like a flashy headline in the scandal sheets. Unable to speak, she pointed to it while excitement, relief, and foreboding collided inside her.
“Bloody hell,” Marcus muttered.
“The initials on those letters you received were V.S., were they not?” She already knew the answer, but she had to hear him say it because she was worried her mind might be playing tricks on her somehow.
“Yes.”
She blew out a breath and inhaled once more before managing to say, “So then it is possible for Carlton Guthrie to be Valentine Sterling, the last Duke of Windham’s son.”
“Windham died in a fire along with a maid. The son’s body was never recovered so it was presumed that he perished as well.” Marcus pulled the book into his lap and ran his finger down over the text until he reached the list of honors, of which there were several. “Logical reasoning tells me that Guthrie must be an imposter, that he used Valentine’s initials to rattle Papa after somehow discovering that he and Windham were close. But my gut tells me that Guthrie and Valentine are one and the same.” He met Regina’s gaze and stared into her eyes. “How can that possibly be?”
“I don’t know. As you say, there must have been an appointed guardian as well as other relatives capable of caring for Valentine after his father died. But instead he ran away, abandoning his heritage, his duty toward the title, and the life of luxury he was accustomed to. Which can only mean that he must have been frightened of something.” An unpleasant possibility started to form in her head, and as much as she wished to dismiss it, it clung to her brain with unrelenting determination. “Windham had an affair with Mama.”
“What are you getting at?”
“The reason why Guthrie…Valentine…would want Papa dead.” She closed Debrett’s and clasped its cool leather surface while trying to calm her frantic heart. “He’s eight years older than you and would have just turned thirteen when he supposedly died. That puts his death very close to the time when Papa discovered he was being cuckolded by his friend.”
“You’re not…” Marcus’s voice caught and he suddenly stood, his posture tense as he stared down at her. “Are you suggesting that Papa murdered Windham?”
She didn’t want to suggest any such thing. The mere idea of it was repellent. And yet she found herself nodding. “Yes, Marcus. Right now it’s the one explanation that makes some sense.”
He blinked. “Do you have any idea how insane you sound right now? That you would even think to consider Papa capable of such a thing makes me wonder about your rationality. He’s our father, for Christ’s sake!” A stunned expression crossed his face. “Forgive my language, but I would rather believe that fairies come out to play in our garden at night than that Papa is capable of something so heinous.”
“I agree.” She stood as well. “Perhaps Papa went to confront him, they argued, and it happened by accident. Perhaps—”
“Stop.” Marcus held up a hand. “Not another word.”
“Guthrie asked Papa if he was prepared to pay for his sins.” She tilted her head. “Remember?”
Marcus’s eyebrows dipped while his jaw seemed to tighten. His nostrils flared as he blew out a breath. “He mentioned it in the letter as well. When I questioned Papa about it, he dismissed it as nothing of consequence.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his gaze to the piece of carpet between them. “But the way he reacted told me the letter had struck a nerve. I just couldn’t figure out how.” He raised his gaze to hers once more. “That doesn’t mean that you’re right, though. I refuse to think the worst of Papa without further evidence.”
“I agree,” Regina said, “which is why I suggest that we find out as much as we can on our own. If I’m wrong, and I really hope that I am, then there must be another explanation for why a duke’s son would choose to become someone else. But if I’m right, then Guthrie deserves our help and our father…” She didn’t dare think of what he would deserve, so she left the sentence unfinished and went to return Debrett’s to the shelf where she’d found it.
It was almost two in the morning and she was exhausted. Yawning, she decided a good night’s rest was what she required. Tomorrow, she’d go to Bow Street and speak with Guthrie. If he was honest with her, she hoped the conversation would clarify matters. Because as things stood, there was a chance he’d be condemned to prison for a very long time, and that was something she could not accept. Not when he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, regardless of whether or not they married. That was the sort of detail that no longer mattered. But the love she felt for him in her heart was like having the sun in her eyes on a hot summer day— bright and blinding and impossible for her to ignore.
20
It felt as if his head were being split open by an axe. Flat on his back, Carlton stared at the ceiling and groaned. He must have hurled himself into the wall. Rolling onto his side, he placed the palm of his hand on the floor and pushed himself into a sitting position. The same nightmare as usual was to blame, but at least he’d managed to catch Hedgewick this time.
Reaching up, he touched his chin and felt the sting of the graze he’d acquired. Every bone in his body felt like it had been run through a rolling press.
He wiped his hand across his eyes, brushing loose strands of hair aside in the process. Slowly he stood, cursing the slight resistance to his right knee. Once upright, he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. Every part of him was sore, including his skin. Now that he’d mostly recovered from the jolt of waking up on the floor, he became aware of the tired burn in his eyes and wondered how much he’d slept. Not long, he reckoned. Maybe two to three hours?
A door creaked open further down the hallway and the clicking of numerous footsteps followed. They grew more distinct as they came closer, then three people turned the corner.
Carlton ignored the Bow Street clerk and Seabrook, his gaze going straight to the woman he couldn’t get out of his head.
Regina.
He didn’t want her seeing him like this, caged and utterly helpless – a failure in his own eyes.
I love you.
Those words had been spoken with great conviction before she’d watched him threaten her father’s life. “Why are ye here?”
She ignored his curt tone and gave him a smile – the sort that forced him to reach for the bars that separated them so he could steady himself. “I have a theory,” she began as if she were a scientist with an idea that would change the world.
“Whatever it is, I doubt it will help.” His life was over. Hedgewick had won. Angered by the fact that she’d made him abandon his goal, he tightened his hold on the bars and gave her a glare. “Comin’ ’ere was a waste of yer time.”
“Here’s what I think,” Regina went on, mercilessly undeterred by his rude attempt to push her away.
He gritted his teeth. “I don’t—
“You don’t have much choice, I’m afraid,” Seabrook drawled. “Your lady is relentless and you’re not in a position to run away.”
His lady.
It felt like his heart had been clasped and was now being squeezed. She wasn’t his lady and yet… His breath shuddered in his throat. As much as he resented her for what she’d forced him to do, he still cared for her, damn it.
“I think,” she told him so clearly he could not mistake her words, “that my father killed your father, the Duke of Windham. I think you are Valentine Sterling.”
Carlton blinked.
What else could he do when faced with such a perfect deduction of facts? He was rendered entirely speechless.
“Um...” he managed after a moment.
“The thing is though,” Regina blithely added, “that people don’t usually shoot each other without a good reason.”
Carlton clutched the cold metal bars and braced himself. She was going to defend her father, and he would be forced to stand there and listen. The ground seemed to move beneath him, so he planted his feet in a wider stance, determined to stay upright while memories flooded his brain.
I was a fool to think you my friend, Windham.
Go home, Hedgewick. You’ve a lovely wife and two children waiting for you there.
How dare you speak to me of my family? How dare you address me without any hint of remorse as if you have done nothing wrong?
A cracking sound. His father’s body landing before him. The stunned look in his father’s eyes and the warning not to act but to sit there and watch as he drew his last breath. The shattering of glass and the whiff of smoke curling toward him. His young heart struggling to beat as he’d pulled the Windham signet ring from his father’s finger. A whooshing sound as the flames caught hold of the curtains, the creaking of wood as the heat danced over the floor. Tears – enough to last a lifetime – so numerous he couldn’t see. The dry burn in his throat as the room filled with smoke and the tight squeeze of his lungs as he inhaled the filthy air.
“Did you know that your father and my mother were lovers?”
The question caught him like a whip, thrusting him back to the present. “What?”
“I believe my father lost his ability to think rationally when he learned that your father was having an affair with my mother. He just grabbed a pistol and went after him.”
“No.” Carlton shook his head. An unpleasant prickle stirred the nape of his neck. “No. My father was Hedgewick’s friend. He would never have done something like that to him.”
“And yet he did.” She placed her hand over his. “There are letters to prove it.”
Carlton clenched his jaw. “Even if what you say is true, your father had no right to do what he did.”
“Of course not. That’s the whole point.” Intense blue eyes filled with determination met his. “It’s the reason why we’re here.”
He shook his head, not sure that he dared understand her meaning. “If you clear my name, you’ll be ruining your father’s instead.”
“I know.” Her hand touched his, the warmth of her touch seeping through his skin so wonderfully soothing it made him forget time and place for a second.
“I don’t think you fully comprehend the repercussions.”
“Carlton, I…” Her voice shook and she took a deep breath before saying, “I know that I took from you the satisfaction you’d find in revenge, and as sorry as I am to have been the one who ruined your plans, the truth is I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Instinctively, he tried to pull away from her, but she only tightened her hold on his hand. “If you’d killed him, I would have lost you as well, and I just couldn’t let that happen.”
“Regina, I lied to you in order to keep you with me.”
“I know,” she whispered, so quietly he scarcely heard her. “But I understand why you did it and…I also believe that somewhere along the way, your reason for wanting me to stay with you changed. So if you can forgive me, perhaps the—”
“Forgive you?” He could scarcely believe that this woman who’d come here ready to sacrifice her father’s freedom for his was asking him for absolution. Stunned, he gazed at her in disbelief. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Regina. If anything, it is I who should ask for your forgiveness.”
Her lips quirked while her eyes took on a watery shimmer. “There’s no need. I understand your actions completely, but I would rather rely on the law where my father’s concerned so that you may be free to live the life you deserve.”
Carlton struggled to breathe. “You’ll forever be known as the daughter of a murderer.” He looked at Seabrook. “The Hedgewick title will be dissolved.”
“If you think the title matters more to me than bringing the man who murdered your father to justice, then you’re mistaken,” Seabrook muttered.
“Some things are more important than one’s reputation,” Regina added with that same degree of tenacity she’d shown when he’d first met her and she’d asked for his help.
Christ, how he loved her.
But now was not the time or place for such a heartfelt declaration. Especially not since there was still one important detail to consider. “I’ll have to prove my identity beyond any shadow of a doubt.” He looked across at the clerk and tried not to show how much turning back into Valentine Sterling troubled him. The people of St. Giles would resent him, not just for the lies but for being a toff. He’d lose the friendships he’d made over the years and would likely be met by distrust if he ever returned. But what choice did he have? If he was going to regain his freedom, see Hedgewick punished, and find a way to include Regina in his future, then this was what had to be done. “My moustache hides a distinctive scar that I’ve had since birth. It will be recognized by those who knew me as a child. And then there’s this.” Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he retrieved the signet ring that he’d removed from his father’s finger as he lay dying.
The clerk’s eyes widened. “The Windham signet ring.”
“You recognize it?” Carlton asked.
The clerk nodded. “How could I not? The question of what might have happened to it has been a great mystery among the runners over the years. Bets were placed and…” He grinned. “I dare say nobody ever suggested that you might have it.”
“Well then,” Carlton said, “if you’re ready, I believe I’d like to make a statement.”
“I’ll make the necessary preparations right away,” the clerk said. “If you’ll please come with me, my lord and lady.” He started down the hallway.
Regina withdrew her hand, gave Carlton a meaningful look and followed the clerk. When Seabrook prepared to do the same, Carlton asked him to wait. He then whispered, so low that neither the clerk nor Regina would hear him, “As Guthrie, I did a lot of things that could still result in severe punishment. I’ve killed people.”
Seabrook’s eyes darkened. “Did they deserve it?”
Carlton thought of the men who’d raped women and children and shuddered. “They were monsters.”
“Does Regina know that you did this?” When Carlton nodded, Seabrook surprised him by saying, “Then don’t say a word about it again. There’s no proof after all or you would have been arrested a long time ago.”
The focus would be on what Hedgewick had done and on the fact that Carlton hadn’t actually killed him or abducted his daughter. To punish him for attempting to do either would be impossible once people learned that he was the true Duke of Windham. Bow Street would have no choice but to let him go.
Carlton bowed his head and offered his thanks, upon which Seabrook took his leave.
When the clerk returned, he brought a middle-aged man with a narrow face and thinning hair with him. “This is Mr. Hutchins, a magistrate with the Bow Street offices.” The clerk glanced at the official before returning his attention to Carlton. “I’ve told him who you are, but he needs to hear it from you.”
Carlton faced Mr. Hutchins and took a deep breath. This was it. He was about to jump over a cliff and swim to freedom. “My name is Valentine Francis Belvedere Sterling. I was born at Fairlawn Manor in Somerset on July thirteenth, 1787. Carlton Guthrie is the identity I assumed after watching the Earl of Hedgewick kill my father, the Duke of Windham.”
21
Seated in the reception area of the Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, Regina waited with Marcus while Carlton provided Mr. Hutchins with his statement. The minutes ticked by, and as information began to circulate through the building, Regina became aware of the glances directed at both her and her brother.
It would only get worse from this point onward, she realized. Society thrived on scandals and this one would be tremendous. Playing a hand in her father’s arrest would probably always feel like a sort of betrayal
, even though she knew she had done the right thing. It was a choice she would have to live with, no matter what happened or what people said.
“The next few weeks won’t be easy,” she said as she glanced at Marcus.
He snorted. “I do believe we ought to think in terms of months and years.”
The storm that loomed before them darkened, and Regina fought to ease the anxiety coursing through her. “What will you do without your title?”
“A man’s title isn’t everything, you know.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it, reminding her that they were in this together, that she wasn’t the only one who’d urged Carlton to do what was necessary. “Without it, I dare say I might have a chance to follow my own dreams for a change. And you, dear sister, shall be able to marry the man you want.”
She didn’t manage to question him about what his dreams included before Carlton arrived. His moustache was now gone, which made him look several years younger than before. And in spite of the scar that puckered the upper left side of his lip, Regina decided that the lack of a moustache also made him more handsome
“Are you free to go?” she asked while forcing herself to remain where she was, not to step toward him and fling her arms around his neck in a public display of affection.
Carlton nodded. “Mr. Hutchins believes what I’ve told him.” Orders being issued around them alerted her to the fact that a team of runners was being assembled. Sensing her awareness, Carlton said, “They’re preparing for Hedgewick’s arrest now.”
“I hope you’ll let me come with you,” Marcus told Hutchins. The magistrate took a moment to consider, then gave a firm nod. Marcus glanced back at Regina. “You should stay here.”
“But—”
“He’s right,” Carlton said. Taking a step toward her, he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her cheek and she instinctively breathed out a small sigh of pleasure. “Things might turn ugly. And since Hedgewick is your father no matter what, I think it best if you’re not there to witness it.”
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