she’d always been too cold, too calculating. Still preoccupied, he allowed Harry to push him into a chair.
“ Tell me your tale,” Harry said. Gathering the wine bottle, he refilled their glasses, removed his coat, tossed a log on the fire and stretched himself comfortably in the chair opposite. Impatiently, he kicked Derek’s chair as a final prompt. “When did the old duke die?”
“ A fire swept through Ambersley Hall, killing the whole family, in 1801.”
Harry sputtered his wine. “1801? That was four years ago. You mean to tell me they couldn’t get you word before now?”
Derek shrugged. “No one traced the lineage to Reginald Vaughan until last year. I’m told some poor soul was dispatched to India. He may still be out there beating the bushes for me.”
Harry whistled. “Must have left soon after me. I didn’t hear a thing about your father inheriting a dukedom.” He loosened his neck cloth. “So what are the holdings? What are you worth?”
“ I have no idea.” Seeing his cousin’s raised brows, Derek continued. “The duke’s solicitor, one Mr. Nigel Minton, has gone to Ambersley. I met his son, young Percy, who acts as junior clerk for his father, but he wasn’t prepared to answer many of my questions. If I travel to Ambersley now, I should still find Mr. Minton there. Harry, I know you planned to leave for Bath tomorrow, and I’ve already delayed you—”
With a snort, Harry dismissed the concerned words. “As if I’d let you leave London alone. I’ll be happy to accompany you, Cousin. I’ll even fund the journey.”
“ I’ll repay you—”
“ Tush. Mother and I have plenty of money.”
“ You must let me do something,” Derek said in earnest.
“ You may introduce me to the first circles of polite society.” Harry grinned like a schoolboy and refilled their glasses. “Think of the horrified Mamas— ’There goes the duke’s cousin. Handsome and witty fellow, but poor soul, his mother married a tradesman, you know.’” He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “’Pity the duke allows him to come around.’”
Derek’s tensions eased beneath his cousin’s inanity. “Not only will you be allowed, you will be encouraged to bear me company.”
“ Careful. Once word gets out, every long-lost relation you’ve never known will appear on your doorstep.” Harry wagged his brows.
A terse expletive escaped Derek as he sat forward.
“ What’s amiss?” Harry asked.
“ Lord Montrose told me last night that my stepmother is living at Ambersley with her children and plans to lay her debts at the duke’s feet.” Derek stared into the fire. Rosalie Vaughan could reveal him as a fraud, but if she’d done so, Minton would hardly be seeking him. He would have to go to Ambersley and confront her if he wanted to set things right.
Chapter 4
Ambersley, March 1805
The trip into Gloucestershire took the better part of a day by mail coach. Arriving at a noisy inn yard in the late afternoon, Harry suggested they get a good night’s sleep before turning Ambersley on its ear with Derek’s arrival.
Long after the inn quieted, Derek lay awake anticipating the next day’s meetings. By morning, his nerves were taut with indecision—a state of mind he hated—but ’twas impossible for him to know what was best to do until he understood the situation more clearly. A dukedom should provide well for Reginald Vaughan’s children, but not if mismanaged. He could hand it all to his half-brother, but Curtis was hardly more than a boy, and if gossips were to be believed, Rosalie had buried two bankrupt husbands.
His concerns mounted as he and Harry trotted their hired hacks along the winding drive flanked by pruned trees not yet in blossom. Derek noted vast meadows stretching to forest, a small lake and rolling slopes dotted with ornamental hedgerows and pockets of
“ Tell me your tale,” Harry said. Gathering the wine bottle, he refilled their glasses, removed his coat, tossed a log on the fire and stretched himself comfortably in the chair opposite. Impatiently, he kicked Derek’s chair as a final prompt. “When did the old duke die?”
“ A fire swept through Ambersley Hall, killing the whole family, in 1801.”
Harry sputtered his wine. “1801? That was four years ago. You mean to tell me they couldn’t get you word before now?”
Derek shrugged. “No one traced the lineage to Reginald Vaughan until last year. I’m told some poor soul was dispatched to India. He may still be out there beating the bushes for me.”
Harry whistled. “Must have left soon after me. I didn’t hear a thing about your father inheriting a dukedom.” He loosened his neck cloth. “So what are the holdings? What are you worth?”
“ I have no idea.” Seeing his cousin’s raised brows, Derek continued. “The duke’s solicitor, one Mr. Nigel Minton, has gone to Ambersley. I met his son, young Percy, who acts as junior clerk for his father, but he wasn’t prepared to answer many of my questions. If I travel to Ambersley now, I should still find Mr. Minton there. Harry, I know you planned to leave for Bath tomorrow, and I’ve already delayed you—”
With a snort, Harry dismissed the concerned words. “As if I’d let you leave London alone. I’ll be happy to accompany you, Cousin. I’ll even fund the journey.”
“ I’ll repay you—”
“ Tush. Mother and I have plenty of money.”
“ You must let me do something,” Derek said in earnest.
“ You may introduce me to the first circles of polite society.” Harry grinned like a schoolboy and refilled their glasses. “Think of the horrified Mamas— ’There goes the duke’s cousin. Handsome and witty fellow, but poor soul, his mother married a tradesman, you know.’” He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “’Pity the duke allows him to come around.’”
Derek’s tensions eased beneath his cousin’s inanity. “Not only will you be allowed, you will be encouraged to bear me company.”
“ Careful. Once word gets out, every long-lost relation you’ve never known will appear on your doorstep.” Harry wagged his brows.
A terse expletive escaped Derek as he sat forward.
“ What’s amiss?” Harry asked.
“ Lord Montrose told me last night that my stepmother is living at Ambersley with her children and plans to lay her debts at the duke’s feet.” Derek stared into the fire. Rosalie Vaughan could reveal him as a fraud, but if she’d done so, Minton would hardly be seeking him. He would have to go to Ambersley and confront her if he wanted to set things right.
Chapter 4
Ambersley, March 1805
The trip into Gloucestershire took the better part of a day by mail coach. Arriving at a noisy inn yard in the late afternoon, Harry suggested they get a good night’s sleep before turning Ambersley on its ear with Derek’s arrival.
Long after the inn quieted, Derek lay awake anticipating the next day’s meetings. By morning, his nerves were taut with indecision—a state of mind he hated—but ’twas impossible for him to know what was best to do until he understood the situation more clearly. A dukedom should provide well for Reginald Vaughan’s children, but not if mismanaged. He could hand it all to his half-brother, but Curtis was hardly more than a boy, and if gossips were to be believed, Rosalie had buried two bankrupt husbands.
His concerns mounted as he and Harry trotted their hired hacks along the winding drive flanked by pruned trees not yet in blossom. Derek noted vast meadows stretching to forest, a small lake and rolling slopes dotted with ornamental hedgerows and pockets of
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