Page 87 of The Lost Duke of Wyndham

“Your meaning?” Lord Crowland said curtly.

“Ah, yes. You probably should know—this man, right here”—Thomas flicked a wrist toward Jack—“is my cousin. He might even be the duke.” He looked at Lord Crowland and shrugged. “We’re not sure.”

Silence. And then:

“Oh dear God.”

Jack looked sharply over to Lady Amelia. She’d gone white. He could not imagine what she must be thinking.

“The trip to Ireland…” her father was saying.

“Is to determine his legitimacy,” Wyndham confirmed. And then, with a morbidly jolly expression, he continued, “It’s going to be quite a party. Even my grandmother is going.”

Jack fought to keep the shock off his face, then looked over at Grace. She, too, was staring at the duke in horror.

Lord Crowland’s countenance, on the other hand, was nothing but grim. “We will join you,” he said.

Lady Amelia lurched forward. “Father?”

Her father didn’t even turn around. “Stay out of this, Amelia.”

“But—”

“I assure you,” Wyndham cut in, “we will make our determinations with all possible haste and report back to you immediately.”

“My daughter’s future hangs in the balance,” Crowland returned hotly. “I will be there to examine the papers.”

Wyndham’s expression grew lethal, and his voice dangerously low. “Do you think we try to deceive you?”

“I only look out for my daughter’s rights.”

“Father, please.” Amelia had come up to Crowland and placed her hand on his sleeve. “Please, just a moment.”

“I said stay out of this!” her father yelled, and he shook her from his arm with enough force to cause her to stumble.

Jack stepped forward to aid her, but Wyndham was there before he could blink. “Apologize to your daughter,” Wyndham said.

Crowland sputtered in confusion. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“Apologize to her!” Wyndham roared.

“Your grace,” Amelia said, trying to insinuate herself between the two men. “Please, do not judge my father too harshly. These are exceptional circumstances.”

“No one knows that more clearly than I.” But Wyndham wasn’t looking at her as he said it, nor did he remove his eyes from her father’s face when he added, “Apologize to Amelia or I will have you removed from the estate.”

And for the first time, Jack admired him. He had already realized that he respected him, but that was not the same thing. Wyndham was a bore, in his humble opinion, but everything he did, every last decision and action—they were for others. It was all for Wyndham—the heritage, not the person. It was impossible not to respect such a man.

But this was different. The duke wasn’t standing up for his people, he was standing up for one person. It was a far more difficult thing to do.

And yet, looking at Wyndham now, he would say that it had come as naturally as breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Lord Crowland finally said, looking as if he was not quite certain what had just happened. “Amelia, you know I—”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off.

And then finally Jack found himself at center stage.

“Who is this man?” Lord Crowland asked, thrusting an arm in his direction.

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