Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

It wasn't often that Julius, Duke of Aldingbourne, received a curtly written summons to appear before people of lesser status than himself. One did not summon the Duke of Aldingbourne. It simply was not done.

Which was why he stared at the missive his butler had just delivered with a haughtily raised eyebrow and a steep frown on his forehead. To his servants and those who knew him, this was a well-known sign that the Duke was irritated and that it was better to slink away quietly and without comment. However, Herz, his butler, was Viennese. He hadn't been in the service long and lacked the quick wit to disappear when he should, and instead remained hovering over the Duke in a most irritating manner.

"Who delivered this?" Julius asked as he stared at the illegible signature at the bottom of the letter. It looked like the scratch of a crow's claw .

"A messenger boy, it seems, Your Grace," Herz replied.

"Was he dark-haired with a cheeky disposition, about eight years of age?"

"No sir. He was tall, thin, red hair sticking out like a crow's nest, about twenty-one. Cheeky disposition," Herz added as an afterthought.

Theseus Arenheim.

The boy needed lessons in penmanship.

And etiquette.

It was not yet ten in the morning, and the missive summoned him to an immediate morning call. The writer of the missive was obviously unaware that morning calls were traditionally held in the afternoon.

The Duke had a routine: rising at dawn, sitting down at his desk in his morning gown to answer letters and attend to the most urgent tasks, then dressing, having a quick nuncheon at noon, followed by morning calls. Lately, these calls had been long meetings with Castlereagh taking up the entire afternoon. The evenings were filled with tedious soirees and other entertainments whose primary purpose was not entertainment, but diplomacy.

Yet, here was a summons demanding his immediate presence at a house in the Spitalgasse, threatening to disrupt his entire day's schedule.

Normally he would have ignored such an impertinent summons, but for the woman who lived there, a woman he was certain was his wife. It was interesting, he thought, how his entire body tensed and his heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of her .

"Fetch Mortimer," he said to the butler.

His secretary appeared promptly.

"What is on the agenda today?" the Duke inquired as his valet helped him into his waistcoat.

"It will be a busy day, Your Grace." Mortimer opened a leather portfolio and read the agenda. "Breakfast with Castlereagh at eleven, lunch with Humboldt at one, and a meeting with Nesselrode at two. Then there is Metternich, who has called a meeting in the afternoon prior to a soiree in the evening. Lastly, Talleyrand has also requested a private meeting." He tilted his head sideways with a frown. "I am not certain how we are to fit that into today's schedule."

"Reschedule the first three meetings. Send a note to Talleyrand to arrange a meeting tonight before the Metternich soiree. Extend my sincere apologies to Lady Castlereagh for the last-minute cancellation, but an urgent private matter has arisen."

Mortimer gave him a quick, curious look. "Yes, Your Grace."

"I shall not be available until the evening. Take care of all business until then."

"Yes, Your Grace. May I enquire where you are to be found in case an urgent matter arises?"

"Nothing is as urgent as the matter I must attend to immediately."

"I understand. You are to be found at the Arenheim home, then. May I ask what you have decided in this matter?"

With an impatient movement, the Duke tied his neckcloth slightly less perfectly than usual—a sacrilege, but it couldn't be helped. He waved the valet away when he began to protest.

"I am ninety percent certain we are dealing with the Duchess. To alleviate the doubt of the remaining ten percent, we shall have to await the special courier from England."

Mortimer nodded. "I understand, Your Grace. Godspeed, Your Grace."

"And Mortimer—" The Duke turned before leaving the room. "See that I am not being followed."

The Arenheim home in the Spitalgasse was situated on the outskirts of Vienna, outside of the city walls, just behind the General Hospital. In the distance a massive, round tower rose into the sky: the Narrenturm — the tower of the lunatics. Right next to it was the morgue. It was the third time that Julius had visited the Arenheims, and it was only now that he took in the landscape beyond the house. Looking in the opposite direction from the hospital, a lovely landscape opened up in front, for the house stood on a hill that led down to a small river—the Alserbach—which meandered through the fields and vineyards beyond. The house was made of simple stone with ivy climbing up its walls, an arched wooden door, and small windows. Colourful flowerpots adorned the windows and the front porch, adding charming dots of purple and orange.

Julius rapped on the door.

The girl named Harmonia opened the door. She curtseyed awkwardly and said, "Welcome, Your Grace. We have been expecting you."

Julius entered the house, briefly wondering if they had any servants at all. They were waiting for him in the same drawing room where he'd first met them. There was an awkward silence when he entered.

His eyes went straight to her. She was standing in the middle of the room, wearing the same blue cotton dress, her fine blonde hair pulled back in a low bun, a composed expression on her face. Only her hands twisted together, gave away that she was nervous. She took a step forwards, then paused, her teeth catching on her lower lip, as if uncertain how to greet him.

In the end she merely nodded with a simple, "Good morning."

The other children were there too, staring at him.

She nudged Hector. "Say good morning."

His eyes lingered on the boy and, as on the previous day, he was shaken by the realisation that this could very well be his son.

The boy looked at him sullenly, then gave a curt bow and retreated as if he had the plague.

Theo cleared his throat. "Let us sit."

They all sat in whatever chairs were available. He sat in an armchair and crossed his legs.

Lena sat down as well, then immediately jumped up again. "Tea!" she exclaimed. "Do we need tea? That is what the English drink, correct? Or coffee? Since we are in Vienna?"

"Later, Mama," Theo said with a frown.

"Later will be fine," Julius said. His nerves were beginning to strain. "I suggest we get to the core of the matter. What is it you have summoned me for so urgently?"

"Well," Theo said again, clearing his throat. "First of all, when the whole family is together, we will speak in German, for not everyone understands English well." He nodded to the younger boys.

As the Duke spoke German fluently, despite his English accent, he nodded in agreement. "Continue."

"The matter is as follows. We, that is, the Arenheim family, have given the whole situation a great deal of thought. All of us together." He waved his hand. "And we have come to the following conclusion."

The pause was dramatic.

"There seems to be every indication that it is more than likely that Mama, that is, Lena, is indeed your lost duchess."

Julius crossed his arms.

"Yet she remembers nothing of the fact, of you, of England, of her former life, or of how she came to be here."

Another dramatic pause.

"If Mama is the lost duchess, it seems more than likely that Hecki, I mean, Hector, is your son." The boy refused to meet his gaze and stared stubbornly at the vase to his right.

"Regardless of that, he is an Arenheim. As is Mama. No matter who she was before, she is and always will be our Lena. Our Mama."

The children nodded emphatically.

"We therefore have come to the conclusion that the only reasonable course of action is to simply see whether or not you are amenable to our family."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"We need to see whether you are compatible with our family," Theo explained as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"Compatible?" What the devil was the boy babbling about?

"He merely means to say," Lena finally said, "that since we are strangers, it would seem rather odd for us to be, er, suddenly acquainted, so we would first have to see if we really get along before we decide to pursue the, er, relationship."

"We?" he echoed. Normally he wasn't that slow in following a conversation.

"It's either all of us or none of us," Hector said belligerently. "You can't just take Mama and-and me away from our family." His voice trembled.

Theo glared at the Duke. "We won't let you take them from us."

The scales fell from his eyes. The realisation of how much of a threat he was to them struck him like lightning. His claim to Catherine and Hector would mean the disintegration of their family unit. The Duke's forehead knit together in a deep frown. So that was where the matter stood. Naturally, they were concerned about it. He hadn't even thought that far. But, good lord. Was he supposed to take on the whole brood?

Looking over at Lena, she nodded while putting an arm around Hector. "We belong together. All of us. I am a mother to these children, whether or not I am your duchess. My first duty remains to them. If you acknowledge me and Hector as your wife and son, you must know that you are also accepting Theseus, Harmonia, and Achilles. We will not be separated."

"And Marie," Les added.

"And Bello and Fips," Hector chimed in.

"And who are Marie, Bello and Fips?" Julius was entirely out of his depth.

"Our maid, dog, and bird."

"Good heavens."

Five pairs of eyes were fixed on him in expectation.

"Let me reiterate this to affirm that I have understood correctly. You expect me to take on the entire family, including the maid, your dog, and your bird."

The children nodded in unison.

"Yes. You see, we must first see whether you can be a proper father to us before we agree to accept you as one of us." Hector finally spoke up. He pushed out his lower lip in a stubborn line and met his gaze in a challenge.

For the first time in his entire life, Julius, Duke of Aldingbourne, was speechless.