Page 122 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

Behind her Marcia growled, sounding like her father. Felicity couldn’t allow the girl to do something rash, so she turned and wrapped her arms around Marcia, then held out her hand for Rupert to hold.

Let them think she was comforting them. As long as she could keep Marcia from lunging at a madman with a gun…

Griffin’s face had paled at the man’s reminder. “Did he kill her?” he rasped. “Did he have Mary killed? And these accidents, since I’ve arrived at Peasgoode—ye’re to blame for those, too? Ye’re trying to clear me out of the way?”

Totwafel merely grinned.

It was an evil grin, one which made Felicity shudder.

“Blackrose told me to find a position with some rich lord, and make myself necessary. Now I’ve done that, I’ve been able to influence things, and I’ll be richly rewarded.”

“You bastard,” Ian hissed, shuffling sideways, until he was between Totwafel and the Duke, only an arm’s reach from Griffin. “We trusted you!”

“Now that I think of it, Ian,” came the Duke’s quavering voice, “did ye no’ tell me it was one of yer clerks’ idea? This inheritance scheme?”

“Yes,” Ian growled, not taking his eyes off Totwafel. “It was last year, perhaps eighteen months ago. You were bemoaning the lack of heir, and how to choose the next Duke. When I mentioned it to Totwafel, he remarked at how very many second and third cousins you had.”

The orange-haired man’s grin grew. “Yes, and you even gave me credit for it, which I hadn’t expected. But it took you two geezers long enough to publish the plan. I had to wait until you officially announced the candidates before Blackrose and I could start working.”

“And now that ye have?” Griffin growled, leaning forward. “Is he returning from Canada?”

“When he returns, he’ll be a duke,” Totwafel announced triumphantly. “I’ve fulfilled my mission.”

Felicity’s arms tightened around Marcia. He’d said his mission had been to make Blackrose a lord—any lord. But a duke? He’d be virtually untouchable. Duncan’s death, the stealing of the dukedom…past crimes against the Crown… All of it would be forgiven.

And she knew, from Griffin’s expression, he understood that as well.

“He’ll no’ be a duke.” Griffin’s warning snarl drew Totwafel’s attention once more. “Because ye’ll no’ get a chance to force Duncan to sign those papers. Ye’ll no’ harm an auld man.”

Totwafel scoffed. “You’re just angry because you want to be the next Duke of Peasgoode.”

“Nay!” Griffin bit out. “I dinnae want to be a duke, but I want what’s best for my children! Duncan—and Ian—are family to me, and they love my family as much as I do. They’re the reasons I’m doing this!”

Felicity felt tears pricking her eyelids, and judging from Duncan’s softening expression, he hadn’t expected such a profound declaration, either.

He was talking about you.

No, he meant Rupert and Marcia. They were the reasons he’d agreed to this mad scheme in the first place. So Rupert could have the education he wanted, and Marcia could have the opportunities she deserved.

Well, yes, he was talking about them. But also about you and Bull. You are his family.

Only for the purposes of this deception.

The truth hit her all at once, and she stiffened.

If Totwafel was the traitor, then the Duke of Peasgoode was innocent. And if the Duke was innocent, that meant she and Griffin and the rest of them had been lying to him for nothing, all this time.

Duncan had found so much joy in the children’s’ presence, and they were going to have to confess the truth, that they weren’t a family.

Felicity was so focused on that horrible realization that she missed whatever Griffin had said or done to push Totwafel over the edge. All she knew was, between one blink and the next, the orange-haired man had shifted the barrel of the revolver back toward Griffin, and pulled the trigger.

In her arms, Marcia screamed, but Felicity could do nothing more than gape as, in slow motion, Ian threw himself forward.

Not toward Totwafel, but toward Griffin.

The leap wasn’t elegant or clean, but it put him between the two men, and when the bullet slammed into him instead of Griffin, his frail body jerked with the impact.

“Ian!” screamed Duncan, pushing himself out of the chair and falling to his knees, legs unable to support him.

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