The Duke of Lies (The Untouchables Book 9)

by Darcy Burke

  Leading the way to her bedchamber, Verity paused, then closed the door behind her cousin after she came inside.

  “Does he read to Beau every night?” Diana asked. “It’s very sweet.”

  “Nearly. Tonight, he’s starting Robinson Crusoe. Apparently it’s his favorite.” Verity arched a dubious brow before walking across the chamber and into the study that adjoined the room. This was her private space where she could fully withdraw. Two years after Rufus’s disappearance, she’d taken over this room as well as the bedchamber and over time had banished his presence entirely. Decorated in warm gold and pale pink, the room was bright and feminine and reminded her of how happy she’d been for him to simply vanish.

  “You sound skeptical,” Diana said, depositing herself on a chaise near the windows. She propped her feet up and rearranged her dressing gown to cover her legs.

  Verity sat in her favorite wingbacked chair situated between one of the windows and the hearth and put her feet on a footstool. “I had no idea he even had a favorite book. In the months I knew him before he disappeared, I’d never known him to read anything.”

  “Not even an estate ledger?”

  “Goodness, no.”

  “Could he read?” Diana asked.

  Verity thought for a moment, then laughter bubbled from her chest. “I honestly don’t know. He must have.”

  “I know you didn’t care for him,” Diana said slowly. “But I have to say he seems rather charming. I think Simon likes him.”

  “Everyone likes him.” Verity couldn’t keep the bemusement from her tone. “It’s beyond peculiar, Diana. He simply isn’t the same man I married. It’s as if his entire personality was swept away by the ocean and replaced with someone else’s.”

  Diana cocked her head to the side as she folded her arms in her lap. “How is he different?”

  Verity leaned back against the chair and tried to categorize the ways. “That’s difficult because it really is in every single way. He’s much kinder, gentler, more patient, much more involved in the estate, and he knows things he didn’t before, such as how to build things, or is eager to learn them. Honestly, his thirst for knowledge is astounding. He’s absolutely thrown himself into the estate since his return.”

  “That all sounds very good and positive. Are you unhappy about it?”

  “No, it’s just strange.” Verity surrendered to the need to share all the suspicions that had crowded her mind over the past fortnight. “There are other things too. None of his clothes from before fit. He said it was because he’d changed physically after working on a ship, but Kirwin thinks he’s a bit taller, and I have to agree.”

  Diana’s brow creased. “You don’t know for sure? I could tell you Simon’s exact height using my hand above my head.”

  “Yes, well, your and Simon’s marriage is far different from mine.”

  Diana winced. “I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Verity sat forward and gave her an earnest look. “Please don’t feel badly. It’s not your fault. It pleases me so much to see you so happy.”

  “Thank you.” Diana blushed. “I-I am happy. More than I ever thought I could possibly be.”

  “And you deserve it after everything you’ve been through.” They’d been raised by awful men, brothers with a penchant for disparagement and other abuse, though Diana’s father was far worse than Verity’s. Both men presented a pleasant and affable face to the world, but to their families, they were ruthless.

  “So do you. I sometimes think your time with Rufus, though short, was more terrible than the abuses I suffered with my father. But you’ve never revealed specific details.” Diana’s gaze was full of compassion. “And I am not asking you to.”

  Verity appreciated that. Diana was the one person she could tell, but to share her shame wasn’t something she was sure she could do. Instead, she returned to the ways in which Rufus was different. “His boots didn’t fit either. I would guess his feet are too big.” She’d stared at his feet countless times since Kirwin had told her about him not wearing the nearly new boots.

  “That is odd. You can explain gaining muscle while working on a ship, but a change in height or foot size seems inexplicable.”

  “I will say that my feet did grow a bit after I had Beau. I feel I should share that with you given your condition.”

  Diana stroked a hand over her belly. “Fascinating. My body will change in many ways, I suppose. I only hope Simon will still find me attractive.”

  “I think you could turn into a weathered old hag, and he would only adore you more.”

  Diana laughed. “Perhaps. He does seem enamored of me, but no more than I am of him. Goodness, it’s a bit revolting, isn’t it?”

  No, it was wonderful. Envy burned Verity’s chest as she struggled to respond. “Not at all.”

  Sobering, Diana knitted her hands together and settled them on her stomach. “So what do you think all this means? Could it simply be that he has changed? Simon asked him about it this afternoon.”

  “He did?” Verity said sharply.

  “Yes, is that bad? He only asked what had happened to improve his disposition. Or something like that.”

  “Rufus doesn’t like discussing his time away.”

  “Are you afraid he’d be angry? He didn’t seem to be. He told Simon it had been a harrowing experience and that such a thing was bound to change a man. Or something like that.” She shook her head. “Since I’ve been with child, my memory for details is just not what it once was.”

  Verity smiled knowingly. “That won’t last. You’ll require all your wits when the baby comes, and your body will realize that. Or so it did for me.” Beau’s birth had been an awakening from the months of uncertainty and anxiety precipitated by Rufus’s disappearance. Beau had given her everything she’d been missing—a purpose and love.

  “I’m glad he wasn’t angry,” Verity added, then frowned. “Actually, he doesn’t seem to get angry. Not anymore.”

  “He really does sound like a different person,” Diana said.

  “I think he might be,” Verity said quietly, finally giving voice to the suspicion that had haunted her mind since he’d returned.

  Diana sat forward, her blue eyes wide. “You think he’s an imposter?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t think he’s the man I married.”

  “But he looks like him, doesn’t he?”

  “For the most part. I would say his appearance is different, but I suspect much of that is his demeanor. He is far more relaxed. He smiles and laughs. All that changes the texture of his face.” She looked down at her lap and smoothed away a piece of lint from her dressing gown. She snapped her attention back to Diana. “And his eyes are green.”

  “What color were they before?”

  “Hazel. When I pointed out the difference, he said they look different depending on the light. I’ve yet to see them any hue but green since his return.”

  “Aren’t Beau’s eyes green?” Diana asked, settling back against the chaise.

  “Yes. In fact, I would say their eyes are very much alike.” Verity shook her head briskly and stared out the window into the darkness. “That’s what’s very strange. I would wager he isn’t Rufus, and yet he has to be.” She turned her gaze back toward Diana. “Who else would he be?”

  Diana blew out a breath. “That is a very good question. Since there is a resemblance, could he be a relative?”

  “I’m not aware of any. Rufus was the only remaining male offspring in the line when Augustus—the former duke—died. The duke’s only son died when he was seven or eight.”

  “Which left his younger brother’s son as the heir. And Rufus has no siblings.”

  “He had a brother and a sister, but his brother died in Spain in 1809, and his sister of an ague when she was twelve.” She knew so few details about her husband, and what she did know were things Augustus had told her. Otherwise, she might not have known Rufus had siblings at all. She hadn’t t
hought to ask him about them. Perhaps she should.

  Except that was tantamount to saying she thought he was an imposter, and she didn’t want to do that. If he wasn’t Rufus, then her real husband could be out there somewhere. A slight shudder racked her frame.

  Did she really believe that? She’d long thought him dead. No, she’d hoped him dead. There was a distinction, and it had been brought into sharp relief the moment Rufus had returned. Anything was possible, and she would take nothing for granted. For now, this version of Rufus was far better than the last, and she didn’t want to provoke a disturbance.

  Was she still afraid of him? Yes, though her apprehension had diminished. Which scared her more than anything. She must remain vigilant and be prepared for when he returned to his former self.

  Only she didn’t think he was his former self, did she? Verity propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and dropped her forehead into her palm.

  The touch of Diana’s hand on Verity’s head drew her to look up at her cousin. Diana gazed down at her in sympathy. “What can I do?”

  Verity lifted her head and pulled her feet from the stool so Diana could sit. “I don’t know that there’s anything anyone can do. He’s my husband.”

  “Or not. You could question him, force him to go to London to be recognized as the duke.”

  “I could do that?”

  Diana shrugged. “I’m not sure, but wouldn’t he be summoned with a writ if he didn’t appear?”

  “That would be upon his inheritance, which happened seven years ago, and which he answered. I have no idea what to expect in this instance.”

  “I can talk to Simon. He might know.”

  That would mean sharing her suspicions with another person. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. Her hesitation must have been apparent, because Diana said, “He can be trusted as implicitly as I can. I should have told you this before you confided in me, but Simon and I don’t keep secrets. I wouldn’t feel right not telling him.”

  Verity both understood and envied that. “Your marriage is truly something to aspire to.”

  “Is there a chance you could have that—or something close to it—with Rufus? Rather, whoever is reading to your son?”

  Verity’s eyes widened, and her spine stiffened. Put like that, a stranger was alone with her child. What kind of mother was she to allow that?

  Again, reading her expression, Diana reached over to take Verity’s hand. “He’s fine. He’s been caring for Beau the last fortnight, and that’s gone well, hasn’t it?”

  “Better than I could have imagined.” Emotion welled up in Verity’s chest. Her throat tightened, and she had to wait a moment to speak. “I was always so happy he was gone, that Beau would never have to know—” She stopped short of saying what a monster his father had been. But if this wasn’t Rufus, if this was really someone else, someone kind and caring and who seemed to love her son… Maybe she could find peace again.

  With a stranger claiming the title and usurping her position as head of the estate.

  “If he’s not Rufus, I should want him to leave,” Verity said. “I’m the steward of the estate, and I’m Beau’s guardian. That means my word is law here, not his.” Yet, so far, he’d allowed her word to be the law, and he gave no indication that would change. Perhaps it was time to push him a bit, to test the honor of his word.

  Diana’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You seem to be thinking something.”

  Verity’s mouth curved into a small smile. “You know me too well. I was just thinking that I want to get to know the man a little better, to determine if he’s actually Rufus.”

  “And if he’s not?”

  “If he’s better than Rufus and will allow me to retain control of the estate, perhaps I should let him stay. Then if Rufus did return, he couldn’t easily claim the title—provided the man claiming to be Rufus is recognized as the Duke of Blackburn in the House of Lords.” That prospect gave her the first moment of true relief since Rufus—or whoever he was—had arrived.

  “It sounds as if you have a plan. While we’re here, we’ll do our best to ascertain the man’s true character. There’s no way Simon and I will leave you with anyone dangerous.” Her gaze turned sad. “Am I correct in gathering that Rufus—the old Rufus—caused you harm?”

  “Yes, but please don’t ask me to explain. It was a mercifully brief chapter that I’d prefer remain in the past.”

  “I understand. Do you want me to stay with you tonight? Simon would understand.”

  Verity laughed softly. “That’s not necessary. I’ve been managing quite well.”

  “Is his chamber really just on the other side of Beau’s?” Diana asked.

  “Yes, at Beau’s request. It’s fine. We’ve established a pleasant working relationship with regard to the estate and to Beau.”

  “So there’s no chance your marriage could be something more?” Diana took a deep breath and shook her head. “Forget I asked that. I’m trying to be romantic. I only want you to be as happy as I am.” She squeezed Verity’s hand before letting it go. “But if you could remain married to him as you are now, there are worse things.”

  Yes, such as the marriage she’d already endured. “Thank you for coming tonight. I feel much better having unburdened myself.” Verity rose, and Diana stood with her.

  Diana smiled. “That’s what we do for each other. Without you, Simon and I might not be married.”

  “Nonsense. You would’ve found your way to the altar. I merely gave you a nudge. Time, if you recall, was an important factor.” Because Diana’s father had been on his way to rescue Diana from her “kidnapper.”

  “Indeed it was,” Diana said, with a glint of relief in her eyes. They embraced, and Diana left.

  As Verity lay in bed a short time later, she realized she really did feel better. Acknowledging her doubt about his identity had energized her. If he was Rufus, could they find their way to a real marriage? She didn’t expect what Diana and Simon had, but couldn’t stop herself from fantasizing.

  This Rufus was very charming. And kind. And helpful. And a wonderful father to Beau. She thought of them cozied up together while he read Robinson Crusoe and couldn’t help but smile. If he wasn’t Rufus and she asked him to go away, Beau would be devastated.

  She turned to her side and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of a faceless man aboard a ship. The ocean breeze lifted her hair as he swept her into his strong arms. She felt safe and happy. Content.

  Until sometime later when she awoke with a jolt. The man had gained a face—the ruthless visage of Rufus, who looked somehow different from the man who’d returned. The angry lines on his forehead and the rough set of his mouth gave him away, and she was never more certain that they were two different men.

  That was easy to believe in the middle of the dark night as her heart pounded in her chest. But maybe it was only a dream—all of it. Maybe this man really was Rufus, and maybe he would revert to the monster he’d been.

  No, she wouldn’t let that happen. She’d kill him first.

  Though it had rained the last few days, Simon had accompanied Kit on his visits with the tenants. They’d formed a friendship of sorts, but there was still a sense of disconnection. Or maybe that was just for Kit since he had to be so careful about what he revealed.

  Today was Thomas’s first day as steward. He’d arrived last night and moved into his new lodgings in the tower. This morning, they’d all—Verity, Kit, Diana, Simon, Thomas, and Beau—shared a breakfast, and as they left the dining room, Beau bid everyone a reluctant farewell as he went upstairs for his lessons. Verity and Diana planned to go into Blackburn to purchase linens for Diana and Simon’s baby from a particular weaver.

  Kit wished he could accompany them into the town and look at a few of the spinning mills. While there were individual weavers on the estate, there were no spinning mills. He was planning to change that.

  They all exited the castle into the upper courtyard, and Simon kisse
d his wife’s cheek as she and Verity prepared to leave. Kit felt a moment’s awkwardness, as if there were an expectation that he should do the same. He wouldn’t, of course, but he found himself wondering what that would feel like. A jolt of heat raced through him, and he decided he should stop wondering.

  “Have a good trip,” Thomas said with a smile as they took themselves off, leaving the trio of men in the courtyard. He turned to Kit. “Where shall I begin?”

  “Romsey and I nearly finished the audit. We have just a few more tenants to speak with today.” Kit glanced up at the darkening sky. “In the rain, it would seem.”

  “You could postpone,” Thomas said.

  Kit started toward the upper gate, and the other two men followed. “I’d just as soon get it finished. We’re very close. I would invite you to come along, but I’d prefer you review the latest accounting. I left it on your desk before breakfast.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll read it immediately.”

  Kit nodded. “We can discuss it later. Until then.” He pulled his hat more firmly onto his head and led Simon toward the stable yard.

  Once they were on their horses, it began to drizzle. Kit was glad the tenants they had left to visit were relatively close.

  “You’re certain of your new steward?” Simon asked as they rode.

  “I know his grandfather was well respected, and I expect he’ll do a fair job. Bleven had nothing but high praise for him and was sorry to lose him.”

  Simon grimaced. “Was that awkward?”

  “Not particularly. Bleven understood that this was an improvement for Entwhistle and didn’t begrudge him the advancement.”

  They were quiet a moment, but Kit had the sense Simon wanted to say something else. Kit looked over at him. “Last night at dinner, you said you were in the process of searching for a new steward as yours wants to retire. Are you thinking to poach mine?”

  “God, no,” Simon said vehemently. “I’m not that uncouth, never mind that horrid nickname people call me.”

  Kit had no idea what he was talking about. “What’s that?”

  “Of course you wouldn’t know. How pleasant. Some gentlemen in the ton are given descriptive nicknames.”