“We will find a way around this business,” Val said before anyone else could interrupt.
They accepted his word? “Don’t you want to see proof?”
“We don’t need it,” Darius said. He went to the window in a swirl of brown cloth, sticking his hands in the capacious pockets of his coat. He leaned against the small table and glared at Dominic. “How long have you known?”
Dominic shrugged. “A week. Before that, I knew my parents were traitors, but not what they’d done. They wanted an heir so badly they bought one.” He hung his head. “It’s a disgrace I can never recover from.”
Warmth touched his leg, just above where his elbow rested on his knee. Shocked, he faced her.
Claudia had touched him, and was gazing at him, compassion in her lovely eyes. “You’re still Dominic.”
“Dominic Rubio, the bastard son of an unknown Italian woman and a philandering outcast. How can you marry such a man?”
Julius cleared his throat. “Not so. I know a little more than you. As do the two men here. All the Emperors know something about the affair. We suspect the Dankworths know, also, but not how much.”
Dominic whipped his head up and stared at him. Julius drew a paper from his pocket. Old, the edges curling with age, and the remains of a red seal, long gone brittle, hanging from a crimson ribbon. He laid it on his silk-clad knee. “Maria Rubio was the mistress of the Old Pretender. At least, that was what we thought until recently, until certain documents came into our possession. Now we know that she was more than that. She was his wife.”
Chapter 12
Was he hearing right? What did the man mean?
Dominic dropped his head into his hands, his mind spinning. He’d all but discounted the name of the father on the birth certificate his parents had given him. Anyone could claim paternity, but only the mother knew for sure. In all the literature he’d read about the Old Pretender, he’d never come across the name Maria Rubio. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He lifted his head. “I thought he was married to Maria Clementina?”
“He was, but he married her after he’d married Maria Rubio.”
Worse and worse. “Do you have proof?”
Julius gave him the certificate. At first Dominic couldn’t focus, then he did and he read the names in old flourishing script. A marriage certificate. Something of the nature had been rumored a century before. King Charles was supposed to have married a woman when he was in exile, but it had been shown to be false. Was this the same? “Is this forged?”
“No. It’s a copy. Maria Rubio married the Old Pretender in 1717. Two years before he married Clementina. His acknowledged wife gave him two sons, Charles and Henry. Then, unable to tolerate his moods, or so we are told, left him to enter a nunnery. In fact she may have discovered the earlier marriage, and instead of facing the disgrace, chosen another path.
“Maria Rubio’s house burned down in 1740, and she perished in the fire. Either the documents pertaining to her marriage burned with her, or they were kept in the Vatican, where we cannot get to them. We don’t know. She was aware of her perilous position and that of her children. Clementina had powerful friends. As her children were born she sent them away with a personal letter and a copy of their birth certificate and her marriage certificate.”
Dominic turned the paper over and over in his hands. Julius’s words didn’t make sense. How could this happen? “My parents bought me from her?”
“The chances are that Maria gave you to them. They must have been a Godsend to her. They were wealthy, able to take care of you, and not under suspicion. From what we can discover, she was careful to choose families who could defend her children and ensure their safety. From that, we infer that she loved them. We could be wrong. I am still investigating, but obviously I have to be very careful who I let in to the secret.”
“This is treason,” Dominic murmured. “Sedition at the very least. You could be plotting to take over the throne.” Wait. Facts slowly seeped into his head, resolving themselves into inescapable truth. “According to you, I’m a legitimate child of this Maria Rubio and a Stuart.” He paused. “No.”
“You’re too good for me,” Claudia said. She was the only person in the room smiling.
How could she take this lightly? Didn’t she realize? Dominic rounded on her, his head pounding, his hands balled into fists, the proof of his birth falling to the floor. He was barely aware of Julius scooping it up. “How can you jest? This is—this changes everything!”
“Does it?” she said quietly. The knuckles on her clasped hands were white. “Surely it’s how you feel about it—” Then her face paled. “The attack—the shooting—”
“Could have been meant for me.” Yes, of course. Who would want to shoot Claudia? Who would risk the wrath of the powerful Emperors by doing so? But to kill him would be to remove a threat to the Young Pretender and possibly the British throne. The danger could have come from anywhere.
“If it was meant for you, someone else knows your secret. They’re willing to kill.” Julius’s smooth words fell into the fraught silence.
She was in danger as long as she was with him. Dominic suffered all his dreams. They fell into dust on the pristine surface of the carpet. While he’d told himself he was marrying her to protect her, he’d be doing the exact opposite. Her vitality, her very soul would be no more. Rather than see that happen, he’d ensure she was safe.
He got to his feet, bracing himself against the inevitable bodily weakness that came with shock. “If you would escort your sister home,” he said, not looking at her, but at Val. “We will contrive to get out of this scrape.”
“I believe her injuries necessitate a visit to the country,” Val said.
Julius interrupted them. “No. Give it a week. She must face the people who are accusing her. She must not run away. Let her appear in public with her arm in a sling. Her injuries were too severe for her to be moved. I will swear that Viscount St. Just stayed at our house. God knows the servants are due another bribe. They’re getting restless. That is if you wish to take that course. Otherwise, I felicitate you both.”
He rose. “I will not abandon anyone, nor will I stop in the search for the children of Maria Rubio. This attack probably means someone else knows, and they will not stop hunting them down. Maria was married to the Old Pretender for twenty-three years. We don’t know if he continued to see her while he was actively married to Clementina. Even if he cut off relations, that still leaves eighteen years when he could have been begetting children. We need to find them all.”
“I can’t help you with that,” Dominic said. “I must see my own parents. Or the people claiming to be my parents.”
He turned to leave but found Julius blocking his way. The man could move swiftly when he wanted to.
“Do not tell them any more than they know already,” Julius said. “Do not disown them. If you create a scandal from this, there is no going back, no helping you. I cannot tell you what to do, but think of it. You are a legitimate son of a claimant to the throne. Guess what that makes you?”
He moved out of Dominic’s way. “Call on me if you need me.”
Claudia watched Dominic leave the room with a sense of helplessness that she hated. It infuriated her as it always had, the way men took control and insisted they knew what was best for her. If ever Dominic needed her, it was now. But he wouldn’t claim her and would do his best to separate himself from her. But he had to stay in London.
He was a Stuart? A relative of the King? A member of a royal house?
Dear God, what a tangle!
“Do you have anything we need to collect before we leave?” Val spoke tight-lipped. He was more than angry. Val tended to cut himself off and speak coldly when he was at his most furious.
“No,” she said, without really thinking. “My maid will see to it. She may come tomorrow and collect what I have forgotten.”
“Then I suggest that you come home now.”
Darius put his hand o
ver hers. “He has much to think over. It would be cruel to remain.”
Helplessly, she searched out her cousin, but Julius was staring into space, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. “A son,” he said eventually. “Are there any more?”
Obviously his obsession had him by the tail and he was lost to them. This feud with the Dankworths and his pursuit of the children— “Are you doing this for the Crown, Julius?”
“What?” Julius blinked and stared at her as if she were a stranger. “Oh, ah. No. No, I’m not. Your betrothed is, I fear, a diehard loyalist. I’m doing it because of the people involved. Our cousin-in-law, for instance. We have only just begun. How many more are there? Eighteen years could produce ten children, maybe more. Not all will have survived. Damnation, I wish I could have just one look at the documents the Vatican has! They are probably locked away somewhere. I’ve seen the Vatican records, or some of ’em. Papers are shoved into boxes and put away. Different systems and different storage areas—it would take a lifetime to track them down. How many? How many of these children are there, and do any want to claim their inheritance?”
Darius lifted his head and stared at his cousin.
Julius frowned. “Don’t you understand? These children are the legitimate offspring of the claimant to the British throne. They are direct descendants of the senior line. They have a right to claim the throne, but not a right to ascend. Being Stuarts, they might not understand that part, but we have changed. The people have changed.”
“You mean we rule now,” Val said with heavy irony. “I do not mean the common people. We will have to go a long way for that to happen, and it won’t happen in my lifetime.”
“Would you want it?” Claudia frowned. “Surely ruling comes with responsibilities and understanding. Doesn’t a ruler have to be reasonably civilized and educated?”
Julius gave a sharp laugh. “If you think that describes the majority of the incumbents of the House of Lords, you are sadly deluded.”
They were back. She’d missed that, the banter and exchanges they naturally fell into. Next to the close-lipped Dominic, they were positively loquacious. She’d had to prise everything out of him with a great deal of difficulty. Could she live with that?
The chances were that she wouldn’t have to. He might never speak to her again, judging from the way he’d charged out of the house.
All this thinking was making her tired. She hated to admit it, but healing took a great deal of effort.
Once they were back in their London home, settled in the room she shared with her sister, Claudia’s recovery continued apace. Her family were being maddeningly quiet about any progress. They only allowed her out for gentle walks with her sister, a maid, and the largest footman in their employ to accompany her. No evening entertainments for a week, her mother had declared, and Claudia found herself eager to accept those edicts. At night she slept. In the afternoons she slept. In fact, sleeping was her favorite occupation for a few days.
Livia was working as her spy, but she learned very little. Their brothers were rarely at home, except for the breakfasts, which Claudia had been skipping. On the third day after her return, she felt much better. Her arm flexed when she moved it, with only a twinge of pain. She called the maid and ordered her apple-green silk sacque made ready. She loved that gown.
Dominic had called, but not to see her. He’d sent her his good wishes and he was discussing the situation with her brothers, just as if she were not a part of it. This morning he wouldn’t get away without seeing her.
She waylaid him in the hall. When she heard the bell and his voice, she dumped her embroidery on the nearest chair and shot out of the morning parlor, where she’d stationed herself. “Come with me.” Grabbing a startled Dominic by his sleeve, she dragged him off.
The footman, a family retainer from the country, pretended not to notice. He’d get a vail later for that. She shoved Dominic into the parlor and closed the door, standing with her back to it. If he wanted to get away, he’d have to do it through her.
“How are you?” he said. His shuttered face only displayed smooth urbanity.
“Much better. What did your parents say?”
He pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. “You don’t believe in exchanging niceties, do you?”
“Not when you look as if you might leap out the window. Why leave me like this? We’re still betrothed, are we not?”
He sighed heavily. “It’s not a good idea.”
She jutted out her chin. “Why not? You asked. You took me to bed.”
Ah, the mask of urbanity dropped and he closed his eyes as if in pain. “Don’t remind me.”
“It was that bad?”
Whisking around, he headed for the window and stared out. “It was the best thing that has happened to me for a very long time.”
He spoke so softly she had to strain to hear his words, but when she registered them, she rejoiced. She had that, and he wasn’t denying it. “I’m glad to hear it.” She would give him nothing, not until she knew what he intended. “Then why deny us? Why avoid me?”
He turned, but didn’t come over to where she sat. His eyes were hungry, and he gazed at her as if devouring her. “I need to know for sure that I can offer you something.”
So like him, so honorable. Claudia took a step toward him. Then another step. “You went to great lengths to persuade me.”
“From what I’m hearing, it’s unnecessary. Apparently, I was elsewhere when you were sleeping in my bed. Your cousins are adept at rewriting history.”
“Not adept enough.” Not as skillful as some other people. “If they were, they’d have buried those documents. What did your parents say?”
He raised his arms and then let them fall to his side with a heavy slap. “They said they knew no more than they’d told me. That they were in Rome and they were offered a child. Like me, they assumed the name on the certificate was falsified, or I was a royal bastard. Or so they said. I can persuade them to tell me no more. I was convinced they were traitors. Now I don’t know what to think, but I feel I must absolve them from continued activity.”
“You won’t be having them sent to the Tower?”
That forced a reluctant smile from him. “No. I would never have done so, in any case. They were devoted, and they love me, I can never doubt that. They never spoke about it, never told me, even when I left home. They were distressed when I joined the army, but I couldn’t stay.”
Unable to resist him any longer, consumed by a need to comfort him, she stepped close and touched him. Placed her spread hands on his upper arms and pressed close. He clenched his hands into fists, and lines of strain appeared on his face.
“I’m so sorry, Dominic. You are still you. Still the man I…want.” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t articulate the world “love.” If she was wrong that was one more way he’d be let down. She couldn’t bear to do it. Couldn’t hurt him that way. How did she know what love was, since she’d never experienced it before?
She could tell him what she knew. “I’ve missed you. Someone to talk to and laugh with, and…kiss.”
A wry smile twisted one corner of his mouth. “I was going to point out that you have your sisters and brothers. I would prefer that you refrained from kissing them in that way.”
“Yes.” Would he kiss her now? If she stood on tiptoe, she could reach his mouth, but she didn’t have the courage to initiate it. Loving and lovemaking were far too new to her. Was there an etiquette? Would she offend him? No, the reason why she could not do it was the fear of rejection. If he pushed her away. Even the idea brought a lump to her throat.
“I don’t know who I am. I have nothing to offer you.”
She hated how bewildered he sounded, but she could give him something at least. “If I weren’t the child of my parents, my brothers and sisters would still love me because I would still be Claudia. That’s the important thing, surely.”
He shook his head and at last touched her, stroked her lower arms so gently
as if she were made of glass. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much better,” she said firmly.
He watched his fingers rather than her face. “I would have given my life for you at that moment. I still will.”
“You’re a soldier.” She tried to still the frantic beating of her heart at that confession. “You’re trained for it.”
“It’s so much more than that.”
The admission warmed her.
She could not force herself on him as she’d planned this morning. Seduce him, get him back, her body had said, but now her mind told her different. He was deeply hurt, trying to cope with knowledge nobody should have to face. Not only that he wasn’t his parents’ child, but the nature of his birth.
“Dominic, I won’t give up. Leave this too long and I’ll come for you.”
His smile when he looked up warmed her all the way through. “I know you will. That’s why— Kiss me once and I’ll go. I have to see your father and eldest brother. I offered for your hand, and now I have to discuss with them what is to be done.”
“Will you tell them everything?”
“Of course.”
She suppressed her gasp, but he must have felt something because he smiled and shook his head slightly. “Not that. Our night is ours alone.” He lifted his hand and traced her cheekbone. “You have a sweet blush. Very pretty.”
A small victory, then. At least she’d made him smile. “Don’t tell people we didn’t suit,” she said. That would close the door on the matter, and she was still determined to have him, if at all possible.
Her father and oldest brother challenged that supposition as soon as Dominic had left. When they asked her into the study, their faces looked as if someone had slapped them, such was their shock. She knew how they felt.
“He told you everything?”
Marcus held a chair for her and she sat.
“Yes,” her father said. “We know who fathered him, if that is what you’re talking about. Unfortunately, we cannot just turn our backs. More than your affairs are at stake.”
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