Chapter 35

Marcus could feel the jaws of the trap closing about him. He and Selina took their horses to the stables, removing saddles and bridles while Hamilton waited in the yard. Selina looked stricken, biting her lip, tears close to her eyes. Marcus smiled, wanting to reassure her.

"Don't fret. All will be well."

"I'm sorry that I've brought you to this," Selina said miserably.

They were currying and brushing their horses after the night's riding. Marcus stole a quick look over his shoulder and saw Hamilton watching. Then the man reached into the pocket of his coat, took out a notebook and a stub of pencil, and began writing something.

"This plot goes beyond your father, I fear. He might have been able to begin making plans when he realized that you had fled to Valebridge, but it would be extraordinary in those few weeks for him to find an heir and then supposed evidence that I am not Arthur Roy. No one could be that lucky. The plans for this trap were laid before you and I ever laid eyes on each other, I will wager my fortune on that."

"And yet my father is involved. He prevented us from marrying and now seeks to remove me. I have no doubt he will pursue any legal means he can," Selina said.

"There are none. I will not give up my wife. I don't care what the law says on the subject. You are my wife and I will die before I lose you," Marcus said fiercely.

He meant it. If Captain Hamilton produced some article of law that said Sawthorne had the right to remove his daughter from Valebridge against her will, if he produced bailiffs to help him do it, then Marcus would commit murder to protect her. Selina's hand found his while it rested on the flank of his horse, brush momentarily stilled.

"What are you going to do?" Selina whispered.

"That depends on our Runner out there, doesn't it? We must still search for any evidence to prove my identity."

"I could find Dai…I mean Arthur. He mentioned Wilmington. Perhaps he can help?" Selina suggested.

"Your father's men will be watching the roads and country around Valebridge. I will not risk you being abducted," Marcus said firmly.

"I evaded them once, remember?" Selina said with a grim smile, "I escaped him with nothing but the clothes on my back."

Marcus looked into her bright blue eyes and loved her all the more for her courage and fortitude.

"Nevertheless, I cannot countenance it. Besides, who is he to them? An old poacher with a birthmark. They would believe him to be Arthur Roy even less than they would believe me."

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but do you have no people to do that kind of thing for you?" Hamilton inquired from across the yard.

"My horses are important to me. I take personal care of them. They are valuable beasts," Marcus called out.

Hamilton nodded and made another note, waiting patiently. When the horses were stabled, Marcus and Selina crossed the yard together and led Hamilton into the castle via the back door, through the kitchens.

"I should like the opportunity to talk to all of your household staff, Your Grace," he said.

"Of course. I have nothing to hide. I will make sure that Beveridge knows," Marcus replied.

"And, with your permission of course, I should like to get this investigation done as quickly as possible. I could speak to your staff this evening after they have completed their duties for the day and be on my way by morning."

They were heading up into the main portion of the house and Marcus nodded brusquely. "That sounds tremendous. And when should I expect an invitation to the Regent?"

"The invitation is already made. And when I say invitation, I mean command. It is the Regent after all," Hamilton said matter-of-factly.

"So soon? Are we not to be allowed more time to prepare for a royal audience?" Selina asked, sounding nervous.

"The Regent commands," Hamilton said simply.

Marcus led the Bow Street Runner to the study, finding Beveridge waiting, having anticipated where his master would wish to conduct the interview. A fire had been set and tea prepared.

"Perhaps Miss Voss would excuse us?" Hamilton said at the door to the study.

Marcus grunted. "Perhaps not. And her proper title is Duchess."

He knew that there was no legal marriage certificate to prove this. No witnesses. If Hamilton asked to see such documents, then Marcus would have no choice but to bluff, to pretend outrage at the question and hope to browbeat the man. But, he did not seem the type to allow himself to be bullied.

"Of course. It is just Lord Voss was quite vocal on the subject of his daughter's wedding to the Duke of Valebridge having been interrupted and not resumed," he said.

The three of them went into the study and Marcus took his customary Chesterfield chair. Beveridge, saint that the man was, had placed another of the same size and style immediately to his right. The chair intended for Hamilton was opposite and positioned so that Marcus and Selina's faces would be silhouetted with the bright fire behind them. Meanwhile, Hamilton's face and reactions would all be perfectly illuminated.

"I do not care for the opinions of Lord Voss, my marriage to Selina has taken place and she deserves the same title as myself," Marcus said coldly.

"As you wish, Your Grace. Although if the case is proved, then your title will also prove forfeit," Hamilton said coldly.

Marcus' hands tightened on the arm of his chair and Selina reached over to place her own hand atop his. He felt the taut iron in his muscles begin to relax under her touch, fingers unknotting themselves where they had.

"Where were you born, Your Grace?" Hamilton asked.

"Here," Marcus said, shortly.

"Pardon my bluntness, but there is believed to be evidence that you are not Arthur Roy. And there is no record of a birth certificate for a son of Jeffrey Roy except for his now allegedly deceased son, Arthur. Do you have such a document?"

"No," Marcus replied.

But if one exists, it will be in this house somewhere. I will find it.

"It is a rum state of affairs that an Englishman must prove to the state his own identity and that he is entitled to his own property," Marcus continued.

"It would indeed be if it weren't for the presence of one who claims the rightful inheritance of that property and has the credentials to prove his claim."

"And why did this man not come forward when my father died?" Marcus demanded.

"I understand he was in his minority and his mother was not aware of his status as an heir to the Valebridge Duchy. This was pointed out to her much more recently," Hamilton replied.

Nothing seemed to shake the man's equanimity. Every response was delivered with cool efficiency as though reciting the dry facts of a ledger book. Every response delivered to him was noted with no hint of whether he considered it helpful to his case or to Marcus' defense.

"By whom?" Marcus said, leaning forward in his chair.

"I am not at liberty to divulge that information, Your Grace," Hamilton replied. "Have you lived in this house for your entire life?"

"No, I was sent away by my father to reside in the household of Doctor Samuel Livingston of Penrith. That is in Cumbria. I went there at the age of about six years old and stayed there until my father summoned me."

"And you have a copy of this letter which summoned you?"

"Of course I do!" Marcus snapped.

"And, in this letter, your father names you as his successor?"

Marcus thumped the arm of the chair, feeling the noose tightening around him.

Someone has been very clever and has been thinking far ahead of me. When I was unaware of any threat to me, they were putting in motion plans to expose me and steal my birthright. On top of all of this, my brother is alive and seems a decent chap. But I still need to know about his decision to incarcerate my mother. It is all too much to take in one morning when my livelihood is at stake.

Again, he felt the cool pressure of Selina's hand against his own. Again, he felt the fiery frustration within him easing. The problems seemed to shrink into more manageable sizes and he felt more able to handle them. Such was the power of a wife, one devoted to her husband. She was a support to him, his strength as well as his chief motivator to be the best man that he can be. For Selina, he wanted to be the greatest of men, wanted to rise to fill the esteem that he knew she held him in. For her, he would fight this tooth and nail. Only a Duke could protect her against the machinations of her father. A penniless man could not.

"It specifically names you as his successor that would also be classified as rightful in the eyes of the law?" Hamilton persisted.

Again, it was clear the man knew more than he was letting on, with his carefully chosen words. "Not in so many words, it does not. It simply summoned me to him."

"But if His Grace were not the son and heir to the old Duke, then why would he be so summoned?" Selina put in.

"A very good question. One which I cannot answer but may well act in your favor. You have the letter?"

Marcus raised his eyes to where Beveridge stood on the far side of the room. The butler came forward, stood between his master and Hamilton, and bent as Marcus whispered to him. Once he had received his orders, he whispered back.

"Your Grace will remember that the letter in question is addressed to Master Marcus Roy," the butler replied in a hushed tone.

Marcus paused, having forgotten that basic fact. But there was no helping it. The lie could not be sustained. It would come out soon that he was not Arthur but Marcus. The proof that he needed to find was that Marcus Roy was part of the line of succession in Arthur's absence. He looked into Beveridge's eyes and nodded.

"Fetch it for me, old friend."

He saw the tears in the old servant's eyes, knew that he feared the worst.

The truth will finally be out and it might see me stripped of everything.