by Jane Charles
“If my uncle were still alive, I would not be here.”
Eldridge took another drink, then set it aside. “It is time we discussed your future.”
What the blazes did Eldridge have to do with his future?
The footman stepped into the room. “Pardon me, Your Grace.” They both turned and looked at the young man.
“The Earl of Stalter is requesting an audience.”
“Send him away,” barked Eldridge, surprising Mark.
Mark recalled meeting the gentleman briefly at the ball. Why was he calling on him? “Send him in.”
Eldridge grumbled under his breath but formed no further objection. Not that His Grace had a right to say who came and went from Mark’s home.
“Ah, cousin, I should have expected to see you here.”
Eldridge glared at Stalter. The two were cousins? Which still didn’t explain why either of them were in his library at two in the morning.
“Cousins removed,” Eldridge ground out slowly while glaring at Stalter.
“Why are either of you here?” Mark demanded.
“I’m here to save you the trouble of dealing with all the insipid debutantes looking for a husband,” Eldridge announced.
“I should have expected as much,” Stalter said with disgust then turned to Mark. “Might I have a drink, Roxburg?”
“Help yourself.” He gestured to the sideboard where the glasses and bottles waited. He wasn’t about to pour for the gentleman and he sure as hell wasn’t going to drag a servant out of bed.
“How exactly do you intend on saving me trouble, Eldridge?”
“By marrying you off to his daughter,” Stalter answered before the old duke could.
“They’d make a fine match. A nearly perfect one,” Eldridge insisted.
Mark narrowed his eyes on the man. “You wish for me to marry Lady Jillian?”
“Of course,” Eldridge answered jovially. “She’s young, but not too young. She’s been raised to be the wife of a duke and pleasant. There is no one better than my daughter.”
Stalter snorted and took a seat.
“With all due respect, I do not believe your daughter and I would suit.” Now maybe the gentleman would get out of his library.
“Don’t be too hasty, Roxburg. You may want to rethink your position.”
There was a warning in his tone, but there was absolutely nothing Eldridge could threaten Mark with.
Dismissing the duke, he turned to Stalter. “And, why are you here?”
The gentleman studied him and took a sip of rum. His eyes widened. “Very good.” Then took another drink.
“If you wish to pay social call and drink my rum, please do so at more convenient time and not in the middle of the night.”
He set the glass aside. “I’m afraid this cannot wait, and depending on your answers will determine whether or not I call you out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Stalter,” Eldridge complained. “All this because of her.”
“Her who?” Mark yelled, reaching the end of his patience.
“Bianca Valentine,” Stalter grinned. “My cousin.”
“Cousin?” he glanced at Eldridge then back at Stalter. He’d read the investigator’s report and neither name was ever mentioned. Surely they were mistaken.
“She’s not my cousin,” Eldridge argued.
“Your grandfather, the former Marquess Wingate, also happens to be the grandfather Bianca and I share. As much as you may not like the connection, we are all very much related.”
“Who is the current Marquess of Wingate?” Mark asked while wondering if there was a current Debrett’s in this mansion.
“My father now holds the title.” Stalter answered.
Mark poured himself another drink. Surely they were not talking about his Bianca Valentine being related to the duke and Wingate. If they were, then the investigator wasn’t worth his salt. Could he trust any of the reports?
A very tired footman stepped into the room. “Misters Demetrius and Benedick Valentine, Your Grace.”
“Bloody hell,” Eldridge muttered.
“Send them in.” At least Mark knew those two were related to Bianca.
“I was wondering when the two of you would arrive,” Stalter said drolly and leaned back in his chair.
“Could someone please tell me what the blazes all of you are doing in my library at two in the morning?”
Eldridge opened his mouth.
“Not you. I know why you’re here,” Mark interrupted the duke before he could speak.
“It seems there was quite a bit of gossip tonight of how you’ve carried on since you arrived in London six weeks ago,” Stalter observed.
“It’s no secret that I masqueraded as a dancing master.”
“And our sister was your accompanist,” Benedick added, his tone cold and eyes hard.
“Whom you never told the truth to,” added Demetrius.
Mark’s stomach tightened. If anyone had cause to call him out it was her brothers, but after he explained, hopefully it won’t be necessary.
“You see, Roxburg.” Stalter came to his feet. “I was looking forward to this evening and finally seeing my cousins take their place in Society.”
“They don’t belong,” Eldridge barked.
Mark ignored Eldridge and focused on Stalter, intrigued by this unknown family connection. “Before I had a chance to speak with Bianca or Isabella, they ran from the ballroom. But not before I observed Bianca, observing you.” Stalter then glanced at the Valentine brothers. “Should we also pay a visit to the Storms?”
They shook their heads.
“It will not be necessary,” Demetrius added.
Stalter focused back on Mark and this time his stomach might very well have rolled.
“That is when the rumors reached me and instead of listening to speculation, I had a quiet chat with Lord and Lady Acker.”
“What did they tell you?”
“That they believed an attachment had formed, yet you never told her who you were, and then broke her heart.”
It was never his intention to hurt Bianca.
“It’s the same as we heard,” Benedick said, his hands fisted at his sides. “I don’t care if you are a bloody duke, I will not sit by while she is hurt and humiliated by the likes of you.”
“Hold up.” Mark lifted his hands in defense. “Did it ever occur to any of you that it’s been my intention all along to ask Bianca to be my wife?”
The three were stunned into silence, but Eldridge barked out laughter. “My dear boy, a duke does not make a bastard his bride.”
Bastard?
* * *
“Bianca, please let me in,” Rosalind called through the door.
She pulled the covers up over her head, not that she bothered to change from her ball gown. After leaving Isabella in her room, all Bianca wanted to do was hide in her own bed and didn’t have the strength to change her clothing.
“If you won’t speak with me, will you at least speak with Lady Acker?”
She peeked out. Her employer did have a lot to answer for. Why hadn’t she said anything to Bianca? Why had she allowed His Grace to humiliate so many? Of course, she assumed Lady Acker had known. Or, she could have been as shocked as everyone else.
“Not until the ball is over. I don’t want to see anyone,” she called out.
“Everyone is gone except for family and the Ackers.”
She wasn’t exactly ready to talk to her family again, but she certainly wanted to speak with Lady Acker. Bianca pushed the blankets back and got out of the bed before marching across the room and throwing the door open. “Where are they?”
“The sitting room.”
At least she had someone to direct her anger toward. And, she was very, very angry, which happened after one had been both heartbroken and humiliated in the matter of moments.
She continued down the corridor, Rosalind following quickly behind, down the stairs, turned and marched right into the sitt
ing room.
“Did you know?” she demanded.
Lady Acker came to her feet. “Yes.”
“Why?” Tears filled her eyes and Bianca quickly blinked them away.
“It was wrong to have allowed it to continue as long as it did.”
“I don’t even understand why he would do such a thing.”
“To meet potential brides before they knew he was really a duke.”
Bianca sank into a chair. The entire time he was looking for a wife? “So, I was simply a flirtation since he had nothing better to do between lessons?”
“I’m rather glad Demetrius and Benedick left before hearing that particular information,” Rosalind murmured.
“What kind of flirtation?” Felding demanded.
“Nothing scandalous, I assure you.” Tears welled in her eyes. “He just made me care about him.”
“I’ve already told them of the compositions and the violin lessons,” Lady Acker said.
Bianca nodded, glad that she did not have to explain. Hopefully, she’d never have to discuss it again. “I knew I should’ve guarded my heart. I’ve always known that if I didn’t this very thing would happen. Gentlemen are monsters.”
“Not all of them,” Lady Acker and Rosalind said at the same time.
“Well, enough of them are. They have no consideration for those beneath them and how they might be hurt.” She turned and stomped to the sideboard. “And to think he wanted to buy me a violin. I should have let him. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t afford it.”
“Violin?” Rosalind asked.
Bianca shrugged. “I told him I wished to have one of my own so that I could learn to play it. He took me to a shop but they were far more than I could afford. Mr. Eas…Roxburg offered to buy it for me. I refused.”
“Exactly how much time did you spend with Roxburg without the benefit of a chaperone or companion?” Felding demanded.
“Only the music shop and a lending library. Otherwise, we were at the school and someone was always about.”
Her brother-in-law relaxed.
“Not that it matters anymore. As far as I care, His Grace no longer exists and if I ever see him again it will be far too soon.”
With that, she stomped from the room, not looking back.
“Miss Valentine,” Lady Acker called.
Bianca stopped but did not turn around.
“You will be returning to your position?”
“I’m afraid your school is too close to Roxburg’s home.”
“He no longer lives there, but has taken up residence in the ducal mansion. He won’t be coming to the school again.”
“I will need to think on this. I may decide to return home.”
“The best revenge you could have is to remain exactly where you are and continue on as if nothing else happened.”
She did wish to be independent and if she returned home now that would never happen. Besides, what were the chances of ever seeing Roxburg again? “As long as my sister understands that I will never again attend a Society function, I will be at the piano tomorrow afternoon for your students.” She stepped up. “Good evening, Lady Acker.”
Chapter 21
Mark stared at Eldridge, waiting for an explanation. The report he’d received mentioned nothing of Bianca being born on the wrong side of the blanket.
“Refill your drink, Roxburg, and I’ll explain,” Stalter said.
“He doesn’t need any damned explanation” Eldridge came to his feet. “Bianca Valentine does not matter and she is certainly not appropriate for a duchess.”
Mark ignored the unpleasant duke, but glanced at Bianca’s brothers. They stared at Stalter.
“Of course, I should leave it to her brothers to tell you, if they think you deserve to know.”
“Somebody tell me something,” Mark demanded.
Demetrius narrowed his eyes on Mark. “Did you really mean that you wish to marry Bianca?”
“If she’ll have me.”
Eldridge shook his head. “Well, boy, you won’t want her as your bride after you know who she really is.”
Really is?
“Perhaps you should pour them some of this rum, Roxburg.” Stalter raised his glass. “And, refill your own. You’re going to need it.”
Mark studied them and did as Stalter suggested. This night was turning out to be very strange. First, he’d been tense walking into the ballroom. He expected the reaction of the ton and really didn’t care if he offended the whole lot of them. But, he’d hoped Bianca would stay around long enough for him to explain, beg her forgiveness then ask her to be his wife. The night went downhill when she ran out of the room. Once he returned home, all he wanted to do was get bloody foxed, but instead, his library was filled with apparent family members of Bianca. Two of which he’d not even known about.
Demetrius and Benedick accepted the glasses and then nodded to Stalter.
“You tell him,” Demetrius finally said.
“We’re still trying to decide what to do with His Grace, and an appointment at dawn is still a possibility,” added Benedick.
“Well, to begin with, Bianca’s mother was my father’s sister. Instead of agreeing to marry the gentleman my grandfather preferred, my aunt fancied herself in love with Joseph Jones, the stable hand.”
“Perry. Viscount Perry,” Eldridge barked. “She should have married him then all of this could be avoided.”
“My aunt did not want to marry Lord Perry and from what my father told me, insisted she’d run away first.” Stalter sneered at Eldridge before focusing back on Mark. “Jones vowed he loved her too and the two ran off to Gretna Green. The rumor was that Mr. Jones was hoping that once he married the marquess’s daughter that his lot in life would change.”
“Clearly, it didn’t,” Mark mumbled.
“She was basically disowned and the two moved to London where he found work in the mews. Three sons were born, two of them standing in this room, and my aunt was expecting another child when Mr. Jones died. My grandfather showed no pity and refused to assist, so she did what was needed to support her family, which resulted in six additional children.”
Bianca’s mother had turned to prostitution? It was one matter to marry a woman of common but respectable birth, but not the daughter of a prostitute. He might love Bianca but he did have a duty to the title. Mark glanced up at the two brothers who were glaring at him as if they could read his mind. He might not have a choice. Either marry her or face them at dawn. Bloody hell! “I don’t understand how everyone became Valentines and ended up in the home of the vicar.”
“That was my doing.” Eldridge rose and walked to the sideboard and replaced his rum with a glass of brandy. “The vicar came across the children when Demetrius tried to lift his purse. He chased the child and found them all living in squalor. Nelda, the mother, had recently died and Demetrius and Benedick were trying to take care of the younger children. Vicar Grant discovered the letters Nelda was writing to my uncles and my father and thought to gather the children up and deliver them to my father.” He shook his head “At the time, Vicar Grant was assigned to our parish”.
Mark glanced at Demetrius and Benedick. If his life were being discussed with so little emotion, he’d be livid, but Bianca’s brothers were watching him, as if gauging his reaction.
“I arranged for Vicar Grant to relocate to a new parish and insisted he keep the children since he was the one who plucked them out of Seven Dials without inquiring if anyone wanted the brats.” Eldridge gave the Valentine brothers a look of utter disgust. “I arranged for the boys to be educated so long as nobody ever learned who their mother was and Vicar Grant never told of their connection to my family.”
“I still don’t understand where the name Valentine came from or the story about having lived in India. It was all an invention?” He was not the only one who’d been pretending to be someone else for the last weeks and he couldn’t believe Bianca so easily lied to him about who she was.
Dem
etrius sighed. “Uncle Osborn had always claimed that we were the children from the deceased sister and brother-in-law of his wife, who did perish in India. Their children died along with them.”
“Their surname was Valentine,” Mark confirmed.
“It was too difficult to prove that the children died, and easy to claim they’d been rescued.”
Had his investigator had more time, which would have required months to travel to India, Mark may have learned the truth.
“At least Vicar Grant took care of the family since their blood relations abandoned them,” Stalter said with loathing. “Even their father didn’t see to the care of his own children.”
“It was impossible. He died,” Benedick reminded him.
“Not your father, the father of the rest of them.”
“Enough, Stalter,” Eldridge practically growled.
“They have a right to know everything,” Stalter argued. “Hasn’t enough been kept secret? At the very least they have a right to the truth.
Both Demetrius and Benedick looked at him oddly.
“Your other siblings also share the same father?”
“Our mother never remarried,” Benedick explained.
“Of course not. As much as he still loved her, he insisted on punishing her for choosing someone else over him, and kept her as a mistress. She had no choice really, as she had so many children to feed.”
“Who?” Demetrius and Benedick demanded at the same time.
“Viscount Perry. When Nelda’s husband died, he tracked her down. He purchased a house for her to visit, but not live in and he’d take care of the family as long as she visited whenever he desired.”
“Did he know of the children?” Mark asked, even though the man must have. A mistress couldn’t exactly hide six pregnancies.
“Of course, but he’d never claim them for his own. He died five years after Nelda, leaving no legal heirs even though he knew exactly where his children were.”
“A gentleman does not recognize his bastards,” Eldridge argued.
Mark refilled his rum. This was a lot to take in.
“So, you see why it’s impossible to marry Miss Bianca Valentine,” Eldridge finally said. “She is not suitable for a duke.”