Chapter 24

Bender admitted Lucien to Evesham House and informed him the duke was resting in his chamber. “He’ll be delighted you’re here,” the butler added.

Delighted? Despite the astonishing events of the previous day, Lucien still thought that was probably a stretch.

He climbed the stairs, memories of running up and down them with Con in their youth flitting through his mind. He’d been feeling particularly reflective and even nostalgic since yesterday, especially on the long ride back to London with Ruark and Hudson.

They’d tied the horses to the back of the coach and returned them to the Hanover mews. But first, they’d taken Hudson to Bow Street, where he was currently imprisoned, as were Lady Pickering and Oliver Kent. Lucien didn’t know what the Foreign Office had planned for any of them, and at the moment, he couldn’t spare much concern over it.

He was too worried about Kat. She’d been incredibly upset last night—and understandably so. He knew she needed time to work through things in her own way. He just hoped that when she was ready, she’d want to see him. After her reaction to his marriage proposal, he was not encouraged.

Lucien hesitated as he neared his father’s suite. He knew the duke would likely be fine. Con and Cass had been with him last night, and Cass had spent the night here to keep watch over him. The physician had removed the ball from his shoulder and stitched him up, saying the damage was fortunately minimal. If there was no infection, all would be well.

He knocked softly on the door in case the duke was sleeping.

“Enter.”

Not sleeping, then. Which meant Lucien had to see him. Why was he so bloody nervous? He’d come to meet his father countless times and had expected his disdain or disinterest. He hadn’t felt anxious about any of those encounters in a very long time. So why now?

Because of what the duke had done yesterday and that thing he’d said about the cravat Lucien had used to stanch the flow of blood from his wound being his favorite. It hadn’t been just what he’d said, but the way he’d said it, as if he really and truly appreciated not the cravat, but Lucien.

A maid sat in the corner stitching something as Lucien walked in. The duke was propped up against several pillows in the bed. He wore a thick blue dressing gown, and the bedclothes were pulled up to his chest. A book lay beside him on the bed.

“Leave us,” the duke said, and the maid departed, closing the door after her.

“You’re looking better,” Lucien said.

“Hardly.”

“I should hope you’d present a better appearance than you did after just being shot. Your color is far better.”

“I suppose taking a ball to the shoulder might make one look rather gray. Did I?”

“Gray is a good description. I’m glad you will be all right.” Lucien meant that.

“Unless there’s an infection, so you may be rid of me yet.”

Lucien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He moved closer to the bed, but didn’t go around to the side where his father was situated. “I am not eager for your death.”

The duke narrowed one eye at Lucien as if assessing whether he spoke the truth. “Why not? Our relationship is contentious at best. You must hate me.”

“I do not.” Lucien might have thought the word with regard to him, but in truth, he didn’t hate him. “I am rather certain, however, that you at least loathe me, so I am trying to puzzle out why you would put yourself between me and a bullet.”

The duke folded his hands on his lap and looked at his feet. Or in the direction of his feet anyway. He certainly wasn’t looking at Lucien. “I don’t loathe you. If anything, I loathe myself. Would you sit for a moment? It’s past time I explain something to you.”

Lucien’s heart began to beat faster as a ribbon of anxiety unfurled inside him. “You don’t owe me any explanations, Father.”

Now, the duke swung his gaze to Lucien’s. In the dark depths, Lucien saw a swell of emotion he’d never seen before: regret, fear, and things he couldn’t name. Forcing himself to move, he perched on the other side of the bed from the duke.

“Thank you.” His father took a deep breath. “There is a reason we have always been at odds.” He grimaced, but before Lucien could ask if he was in pain, the duke said. “That’s not right. There’s a reason I’ve always treated you differently from your siblings. It’s because they are your half siblings.”

The room tilted. Lucien had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, and he wasn’t his father’s son. Everything made sense now.

Except for the way their eyes were identical.

“I’ll take that explanation now,” Lucien said, his voice sounding thin.

“You are my son, of course. We are far more alike than not, something I have purposely ignored and you likely haven’t realized.”

“But my mother?”

“I had an affair. It was brief—at a house party over a few nights.”

Hell, who was Lucien’s mother? Some woman in Society he’d met countless times who’d looked at him with affection? No, that didn’t make sense. She would have raised Lucien as her son, not given him to the duke.

“She was a maid in the household. It was, without question, the thing I am most ashamed of in my life. I loved your mother. I was young and stupid.” He waved his hand with a scowl. “None of that excuses anything. The maid was let go, of course, and she came to me for a settlement. I was so distraught, and your mother—the woman who raised you, bless her—provoked the truth from me. I’d been acting strangely since the house party. I was completely overridden with guilt, which only became magnified when the maid informed me that she was carrying. I wanted to give her money and send her to America.”

Lucien tried to imagine the life he might have had as a completely different person. No “Lord” Lucien. Hell, he wouldn’t even have been called Lucien. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because as soon as your mother found out, she wanted to give the maid a choice—she could take a sum of money and raise the illegitimate child as her own, or she could retire to the country with your mother for the duration of her pregnancy, at the end of which the duchess would become the child’s mother.”

Their mother had been beloved by all three of her children. But for Lucien, she’d been a bright spot against the darkness of his father’s expectations and disappointment. That she’d fought for him before he’d even been born aroused an emotion so stark and so terribly wonderful, that Lucien feared he would sob.

He swallowed, hoping to keep himself in check. He did not want to dissemble in front of the duke. “The maid chose the second option obviously.”

“She did. She was intrigued with the idea of starting a new life in America. I agreed to pay for her voyage and give her enough money to get settled as a seamstress.”

“Where is she now?” Lucien asked, wondering why it mattered.

The duke met his gaze. “I don’t know. She left a week after you were born, and we never saw or heard from her again.”

Though Lucien loved his mother now even more than he had before, he felt an ache in his chest for this unknown woman who’d given him life, who’d chosen a future that would benefit him. “Was it…hard for her?”

“I confess I don’t know that either,” the duke said. “I wanted nothing to do with her. I never saw her after she and your mother went to Cornwall. We leased a house for your mother—and for Con. He accompanied them.”

Con wouldn’t remember that, of course. But it raised a question Lucien had to ask. “Does anyone else know this?”

Lucien shook his head. “Not a soul. Just your mother, of course, and the midwife and the few retainers that took care of them at the house. They were all well compensated to keep the secret.”

Perhaps irrationally, Lucien wondered if he could find any of them, to ask them about this woman who’d carried and given birth to him. To what end? Nothing in his life would change, including the way his father had treated him his entire life.

“This is why you’ve never liked me,” Lucien said softly.

“Yes. But the truth is that it has never been about you. It’s me. I hate myself for what I did to your mother, and damn me to hell, but every time I look at you, I remember my betrayal and your mother’s generosity and grace, and I want to rail at God for taking her instead of me.”

Lucien put his hand to his mouth. It was that, or the emotions would escape. His heart was racing, his throat burning.

“Sometimes I try to do better, to treat you as you deserve to be treated—as my beloved son—but I always seem to fail. That, my dear boy, is why I stepped between you and the bullet. And I would do it again and again if it would save you.” He turned his body slightly, wincing as he moved. “The reason you were offered a position with the Foreign Office in Spain was because I insisted. I knew you would be an excellent asset, but more than that, I wanted you out of battle. You are right that I am incredibly selfish.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say. What could he? His entire life had been upended. As if yesterday hadn’t been overwhelming enough.

Lowering his hand to his lap, Lucien said, “I have to wonder how much of my life you’ve been manipulating. The Foreign Office’s involvement in the Phoenix Club? Was that your direction?”

“I told them you were—are—a valuable resource, and they said they were looking for someone to manage certain things in London.”

The Phoenix Club existed because of his father’s influence. Lucien couldn’t wrap his head around that. The mission of the club with regard to its members was all Lucien, but the part that was managed by the Foreign Office was due to his father.

“You’ve never hidden your disdain for the membership I’ve cultivated there—inviting those who aren’t included at White’s or Brooks’s. You also haven’t appreciated the environment I’ve created, that it’s a place many prefer to those other clubs.”

“I confess I don’t care for it, but that doesn’t make me any less proud of all that you’ve done.”

Lucien stood from the bed as anger swept the other emotions away. “Proud? You told me to walk away from the club. You did nothing to help me, and yet you claim we have so much in common. If telling yourself such horseshit alleviates your guilt for five minutes, then I pity you.”

His father didn’t flinch in the face of Lucien’s ire. “Nothing alleviates my guilt. Not even your mother’s forgiveness.”

“That’s pathetic. You’ve squandered a lifetime. My lifetime.”

“I know. You said you didn’t hate me, but I suspect you do now. As well you should. Before you go, the Foreign Office is relinquishing their control of the club. You will have sole ownership. They would, however, like to continue your arrangement for allowing certain things to happen there—after they investigate what went wrong with Lady Pickering and Kent.”

Lucien realized he never asked why his father was at her house. Since she’d shot him, it appeared he wasn’t working with them. “Why were you there last night?”

“I took your advice and learned what I could from the Foreign Office. I heard a few things that made me want to ask her some questions. They were closing in on her and Kent. You and Fallin—and Miss Shaughnessy—simply helped them along. They are quite grateful, by the way.”

“I know. A gentleman called on me this morning, but I didn’t see him. He left word with my butler, thanking me.” Lucien shook his head. “You actually took my advice?”

“I have much to learn from you, and I’ve been trying to do that. You’re the reason I worked with that group to reunite French prisoners with their families here.”

“I thought you said you owed Witney a favor.”

“I did, but I also realized it was something you would do without hesitation. So, I thought I should participate. I admit it was satisfying to bring people together.”

Lucien moved around the bed to stand beside him. “This is what I don’t understand. You look down your nose at Evie and are repulsed by my giving her a position of prominence in the club, then you work to reunite her with her long-lost father. I can’t make sense of you.”

“Your mother used to say the same thing. I am my own worst enemy, Lucien. There is no greater battle that I fight than with myself.”

The sadness in his father’s eyes pulled at Lucien’s heart. “I don’t hate you. You make me very angry, but I’m glad you finally told me the truth at least. I will need time to come to terms with everything.”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll need to tell Cass and Con. I won’t keep it secret from them.”

The duke’s nose wrinkled slightly. “As you wish.”

Lucien realized something very important. “Your unexpected acceptance of Prudence makes sense. No one could understand why you so readily embraced your sister’s illegitimate child. It’s because you had one too. Does Aunt Christina know that?”

“No, but I suppose you think I should tell her too. I’ll consider it. What of Miss Shaughnessy? Will you be marrying soon?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t accepted my proposal.” Lucien ignored the swell of unease in his chest.

“You made one, then?”

“Last night. However, she was overwhelmed by all that happened.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“You still advocate for the match?” It seemed impossible that the duke would approve of an Irish-blooded girl who talked too loudly and preferred to avoid social gatherings.

“Wholeheartedly.” The duke actually smiled. Lucien nearly fell over.

“Does this mean you want me to be happy in marriage? Con said you preferred we all avoided that.”

“I did, but I’ve revised that opinion due to your brother. I watched you and Miss Shaughnessy at dinner the other night. There’s a light in your eyes when you look at each other, and I don’t think your smiles ever fully faded throughout all the courses.”

“I’m surprised you noticed. I love her very much, and I do hope she’ll say yes.”

His father’s brow creased. “Perhaps I should call on her.”

“You want to play matchmaker?” Lucien laughed. “We are much too alike. Please stop.”

He looked Lucien in the eye. “I want you to be happy.”

Emotion rose in Lucien’s throat, and he had to wait a moment to respond. “Thank you. Things will be different now, then?”

“Yes, but I am still me. You have permission to remind me not to fall into the abyss of my self-loathing.”

Lucien grinned. “That will give me great pleasure.” He took his father’s hand and gave it a squeeze before letting him go.

As Lucien started toward the door, the duke said, “You’ll send word when she accepts?”

“Yes. And I’ll expect you to invite Con, Cass, and me for a meeting when you’re feeling up to it. In the meantime, should I extend you an invitation to the Phoenix Club?” Lucien turned to look at his father.

The duke stared at him. Then they both laughed.

Leaving his father’s chamber, Lucien felt both heavy and light. His mother would always be his mother, but knowing the truth helped. No, knowing that his father’s treatment of him was never about him helped.

It made all the difference.

It was just before noon on Friday when the butler informed Kat that Lucien had called to see her. “What shall I tell him?”

“I’ll meet him in the drawing room,” Kat replied.

She’d spent most of yesterday in her room, but had surprised Cass and Ruark when she’d joined them for dinner. She’d been shocked to hear all that had transpired at Lady Pickering’s, which had led to Lucien and Ruark coming after her, particularly the duke throwing himself in front of Lucien when Lady Pickering had tried to shoot him. Kat had almost gone to Lucien right then, but she hadn’t been ready to answer his proposal. She didn’t think it was fair to see him if she couldn’t respond.

She’d spent a great deal of time contemplating his proposal. It was all she could think about, really. Part of it was adjusting to a future that was different from what she’d planned. How would it feel to live with him? To share a bed with him? And she wasn’t just thinking about the obviously wonderful physical rewards of doing so. She liked her own space.

You also like snuggling with him. His weight feels really nice.

She couldn’t argue with that.

Realizing she needed to get to the drawing room, she hurried from her chamber and went down the stairs. He was standing in the center of the room when she entered.

He smiled, and she was reminded of how wonderful it was to see him—every single time. That was love, apparently.

“Good morning,” he said. “I’m afraid I couldn’t wait any longer to call on you. Since you didn’t send me away, I will take that to mean I’m not being a nuisance.”

“You could never be a nuisance.” Kat walked into the room until she stood about a foot away from him. “How is the duke? I heard what happened. Actually, how are you?”

“Trying to cope with what he did.” Lucien shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Will you come sit with me? It’s the most astonishing story.”

“What is?” Kat was glad for the distraction. She could put off addressing his proposal while he talked.

They sat together on the settee, their bodies angled toward one another, but not touching. It was the same way they’d sat the day she’d given him the peacock drawing. Kat felt hesitant, uncertain.

He looked at her intently. “I should preface this with the fact that no one else knows this but me—and my father, of course. He will tell Cass and Con soon, when he’s feeling better. Until then, I should like you to keep this between us. I realize I should have said this to you when I shared the secret of not owning the Phoenix Club.”

Kat felt a wave of remorse. “I’m sorry about that. I’m not very good at keeping secrets, especially if I’m not explicitly told to do so. I just wanted to help you the way you help everyone else.”

“I’m incredibly glad you did, for it led to the exposure of Oliver Kent and Lady Pickering and, frankly, saved me from losing everything.”

Excitement vibrated through her. “You won’t lose the club?”

He smiled. “I was saving that bit for later, but no, I am to be the full owner.”

She touched his hand, and their eyes locked for a moment. “That’s so wonderful. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Thank you, and I truly do owe you for setting everything in motion.” His brow darkened. “Though, I would have greatly preferred that you weren’t put in harm’s way.”

“I’m all right.”

“You were beyond resourceful. I didn’t think my admiration for you could increase, but I was quite wrong.” He took her hand then, and she let him entwine his fingers with hers. “I couldn’t reconcile my father’s actions—him stepping between me and Lady Pickering—until he made a startling confession.” Lucien paused to take a deep breath. “My mother was not my mother, as it happens. My father went to a house party and got a maid with child. When my mother found out, she offered to take the maid to Cornwall to have the baby, at which time the maid would give the child to her and my father to raise. The maid accepted that, and from then on, I’ve been a daily reminder of my father’s worst mistake and biggest shame.”

Kat had tightened her grip on his hand while he’d spoken. “Oh, Lucien. I don’t know what to say. That’s…shocking.”

“As I said, I’m still trying to sort it out. The most important part is that my father doesn’t hate me, though it always felt as though he did. He said that every time he looked at me, he hated himself more. I suppose all that negativity spreads. It was impossible for him to treat me as he should. And he knows it.”

“You must be angry.” Kat put her other hand over his. “I would be.”

“I was. I still am, but I’m also grateful to know that it wasn’t really ever about me.”

“It doesn’t forgive the way he’s treated you.”

“No, but forgiveness is for me, not him. I can continue with our mutually antagonistic relationship, or I can accept his olive branch and strive for something better. I’d prefer the latter.”

Kat smiled and took her hand from his to cup his cheek. “You are the kindest, most generous man.”

“I want to be. And in the spirit of generosity, you should know that I want to share everything with you. There isn’t a thing I don’t want to talk to you about or a day I don’t want to spend with you.”

Oh no, was he going to propose again?

Before she could stop him, he went on. “I specifically wanted to tell you about my time in Spain. You asked me the other night if I’d killed anyone, and I said that I had as a soldier. The truth is that I did kill a couple of men outside battle.” He blew out a breath. “Outside an official battle, anyway. My dear friend Max—the Viscount Warfield—had fallen in love with a local woman. She was carrying his child, and they were to be wed. A small squadron of enemy soldiers found her one day. They violated her and killed her.” He paused as Kat sucked in a breath. “Max fell into a rage and went after them. I realized what he had done and followed him, but he’d already killed several of them. I wanted to stop further bloodshed, but they were going to kill Max, who was wounded at that point. I had to defend him—and myself.”

“That is completely justifiable. Those men were despicable. Evil.”

“Yes, and I don’t regret what I had to do to survive and to protect Max. But that went past just saving his life. I had to ensure he didn’t suffer any consequences for what he’d done, so I planted a letter on one of the dead soldiers to make it look like they’d stolen information and we were retrieving it. I worked as a spy at the time, so it was easy to concoct this scheme.”

“Do you regret doing that?”

“No. But I don’t know if it was the most moral choice.” He looked past her, his eyes taking on the fog of memory. “One of them begged me to let him live, but he was already too far gone. I can still hear his voice some nights.”

Kat threw her arms around him and held him tightly for several minutes.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “It will probably always haunt me, but I stand by what I did.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“It’s a part of who I am, and a part I haven’t ever shared with anyone. Max and I don’t really discuss it. For a long time, he was angry with me for saving him. I think he attacked those men thinking he would die and that he wanted to after losing his love.”

“That’s so sad. But he’s happy now. At least he seems to be. Honestly, how can he not be with Ada? She’s the most cheerful person I’ve ever met.”

Lucien chuckled. “When I sent her to help with Max’s estate, I wasn’t even thinking of a match between them, but they are perfectly suited to one another. She truly saved him, and in some ways, I think he saved her too.”

“That’s lovely.”

They were silent a moment before Lucien spoke again. “I was wounded in that incident in Spain, and though it wasn’t serious, they sent me home. I learned from my father yesterday that he arranged for that to happen. Apparently, I get my penchant for meddling from him.”

“It’s nice to know that, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Surprisingly, yes. What about you? Would you like to share anything with me?”

There it was. Words stuck in her mouth as if it were a quagmire. “How would this work?” she blurted.

Confusion danced in his gaze. “How would what work?”

“Marriage. I have recently learned that I am somewhat selfish, or at least inwardly focused, which is pretty much the opposite of you and your ability to constantly think of how you might help others. But I’ve also realized that I am perhaps that way as a sort of defense against people who don’t understand or accept me.” She released his hand. “In any case, I don’t see how we could be married to one another. You will be at the club socializing and generally being the most adored man in London, while I am that awkward woman who can’t dance and would rather curl up alone in a library than swan about the Phoenix Club.”

Lucien pressed his lips together. Then he smiled faintly. Finally, he took her hand once more and brought it to his lap. “First, I am rather enamored of the idea of you sitting in my office at the club reading a book while I swan about the common areas. Second, on the occasion you are feeling social—and I know that happens—you can come to the library, which is usually populated by our family and close friends and isn’t crowded. I think you’d feel quite comfortable there. Third, there is an exceedingly lovely bedchamber on the second floor, with which I think you are acquainted. I should think that would be a delightful place for you to sit and read. I would, of course, need to come and check on you from time to time…”

Kat tried not to smile and mostly failed. Straightening her face, she asked, “Can I come to your office any time or only on Tuesdays?”

“Any time. Remember, we have our secret passageway. Or, if you’d rather, I will simply spend more time at home with you.”

Vehemently shaking her head, Kat clutched his hand more tightly. “I won’t let you do that. The club is your lifeblood.”

“You are my lifeblood.” He released her hand and cupped her cheeks as he gazed into her eyes. “Don’t you know by now that I would do anything for you?”

She felt exactly the same way about him. “I would be quite comfortable in your office. Or the library. Or the bedchamber. Or the passageway. And when I am not—feeling comfortable, that is—I’ll stay home by myself, and I’ll be quite content to do so. If you’re going to worry about me, this won’t work.” But she knew it would. He was the one who’d sent her home alone from Chessington the other night. He’d seen that she needed solitude and had given her precisely that without argument. Indeed, he’d done it with gentle care and an indelible kindness. She had never known another soul like his, and she expected she never would again.

“I would be a fool to refuse you,” she said softly.

He pulled his hands from her face. “Not at all. Only you can decide what is right for you. Just know that I love you, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. The real question is, do you love me?”

Emotion gathered and expanded within her until she felt she might burst. “More than I ever dreamed I could. I think…I think my answer is yes.”

Lucien’s brows arched, and he held his breath. “You’ll marry me?”

“If you’re still asking.”

“I was prepared to ask you every day until the end of time.” He touched her face once more and kissed her.

Kat put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. When they broke apart, they were both laughing. She clutched his shoulder. “I love you so very much.”

“I love you more.”

She shook her head. “Impossible. This is not a debate you will win.”

“I’ve a lifetime to try,” he said before kissing her again. Soon, he’d pushed her back on the settee, and they’d stretched out as much as they were able. If they weren’t careful, he’d be lifting her skirts soon.

“We should tell Cass and Ruark the good news,” she said. “Lest we get carried away here.”

“I would very much like to carry you away. Right up to your chamber.” He kissed her neck and licked her.

“They’ll be thrilled. And Ruark won’t have to kill you.”

Lucien laughed. “Everyone else will be shocked. We are two people who were never expected to marry, let alone to each other.” He looked at her with mirth lighting his eyes. “Even my father is in favor.”

“Oh dear, I hope that doesn’t bode ill.”

“On the contrary, I think it signifies a wonderful future—for all of us.” He lowered his head and kissed her again until she was breathless, his hand stroking her breast through her clothing.

“We really do need to stop before we’re caught,” she said. “But perhaps you can find your way back into my chamber tonight. I still have many things on my list for us to do. Plus, I’ve added several more.”

“Have you? Well, I’ve drafted my own list. Perhaps we should begin by comparing them and striking any duplicate items.”

“Or we could just do them twice?” She nibbled his ear. “I fear I will never stop being curious—or eager.”

“I don’t fear that. I welcome it.” He looked into her eyes with so much love that Kat was glad she was lying down because she might have swooned again. “Don’t ever change, my insatiable darling.”