Page 109 of Mr. Cavendish, I Presume

“I don’t know. He did the last I knew. It has been five years.”

Thomas swallowed and looked up, staring off into space. His body felt strange, almost weightless, as if his blood had changed into something thinner. His skin was tingling and—

“Tear it out.”

Thomas turned to Jack in shock. He could not have heard correctly. “What did you say?”

“Tear it out.”

“Are you mad?”

Jack shook his head. “You are the duke.”

Thomas looked down at the register, and it was then, with great sadness, that he truly accepted his fate. “No,” he said softly, “I’m not.”

“No.” Jack grabbed him by the shoulders. His eyes were wild, panicked. “You are what Wyndham needs. What everyone needs.”

“Stop, you—”

“Listen to me,” Jack implored. “You are born and bred to the job. I will ruin everything. Do you understand? I cannot do it. I cannot do it.”

Jack was scared. It was a good sign, Thomas told himself. Only a stupid man—or an exceedingly shallow one—would see nothing but the riches and prestige. If Jack saw enough to be terrified, then he was man enough for the position.

And so he just shook his head, holding Jack’s gaze with his own. “I may be bred to it, but you were born to it. And I cannot take what is yours.”

“I don’t want it!” Jack burst out.

“It is not yours to accept or deny,” Thomas said. “Don’t you understand? It is not a possession. It is who you are.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Jack swore. His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking. “I am giving it to you. On a bloody silver platter. You stay the duke, and I shall leave you alone. I’ll even be your scout in the Outer Hebrides. Anything. Just tear the page out.”

“If you didn’t want the title, why didn’t you just say that your parents hadn’t been married at the outset?” Thomas shot back. “I asked you if your parents were married. You could have said no.”

“I didn’t know that I was in line to inherit when you questioned my legitimacy.”

Thomas stared down at the register. Just one book—no, just one page of one book. That was all that stood between him and everything that was familiar, everything he thought was true.

It was tempting. He could taste it in his mouth—desire, greed. Fear, too. A galling dose of it.

He could tear out that page and no one would be the wiser. The pages weren’t even numbered. If they removed it carefully enough, no one would realize it was gone.

Life would be normal. He would return to Belgrave precisely as he’d left, with all the same possessions, responsibilities, and commitments.

Including Amelia.

She should have been his duchess by now. He should never have dragged his feet.

If he tore out that page…

“Do you hear that?” Jack hissed.

Thomas perked up, his ear instinctively tilting toward the window.

Horses.

“They’re here,” Thomas said.

It was now or never.

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