Page 41 of My Secret Duke
Ivo felt a weight settle on his shoulders. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Charles, standing right beside his father’s portrait, was drawing his attention to the plain truth. He had to speak.
But he had waited too long, because it was Charles who spoke first.
“Your father,” he began and then stopped.
Ivo sighed. “My father,” he agreed. “I admired him when I was a boy, wanted to be just like him, but then I discovered he had another side. A darker side.” He looked at Charles. “Do you know anything about your parents?”
Charles didn’t seem surprised to be asked that or by the seeming change of subject.
“I was brought up at St. Ninian’s, same as Gabriel and Freddie. Someone handed me in as a newborn, and for a time, things were dicey. I was sickly.” He shrugged. “But I fought off the usual childhood illnesses, and here I am.”
Ivo nodded, waiting, but Charles was waiting too. He raised an eyebrow in that way that irritated Ivo at the same time as it caused a painful sensation in his chest.
“I think you know what I am asking,” Ivo said, his impatience leaking into his voice. “Have you ever heard mention of your father?”
“No,” Charles replied, “but lately, I have wondered if…” He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “The late duke was a renowned womanizer, or so I have heard, and the only information I did manage to glean from St. Ninian’s was that my mother came from Kent. She died soon after my birth, or so I was told, but perhaps they tell all foundlings that.”
Ivo let out a breath. “There were always rumors about my father and the village women, which is probably why Jacob got it into his head that he was my half brother. But there was one rumor in particular that seemed based in truth. A child was born and taken to St. Ninian’s, far enough away, it was hoped, to stop any gossip from reaching my mother’s ears. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six years, I believe.”
“I am twenty-seven.” Ivo played with his glass amoment with a frown. “There can be no doubting the resemblance between you and my father,” he said, nodding at the portrait, “or you and myself. I think you were the baby, which means… you are a Fitzsimmons.”
Charles looked shaken. He gave a jerky nod. “Others have mentioned the likeness between us, but I dismissed it, but then when I saw your father’s portrait…” He swallowed. “It is hard to deny that we share the same blood.”
“I’m not denying it, although it’s damned awkward.”
Charles frowned. “I have no claim on you or your family, and I will make none. I have made my own way in the world and have no intention of altering that. If you no longer wish to join me in the Cadieux’s venture, then I release you from it.”
Ivo could see he’d struck a nerve, but he had simply spoken aloud the concerns he had had for some time. He gave a harsh laugh. “The partnership with you is the only thing likely to keep me afloat.” The words were out before he could stop them.
Charles’s eyes widened comically. “Are you bankrupt?”
“Not yet. I still hope to turn matters about. When it comes to the Cadieux’s venture…” He gave an uncomfortable shrug. “It’s I who should be thanking you.”
Charles shook his head. “I would never have guessed.”
“The Fitzsimmonses are good at putting on a front. Don’t worry though. I have the blunt to buy into your business. And I have every intention of making a profit for us both. I only meant, with the resemblance between us, that there will be questions asked,” he said frankly, “and we can’t ignore them forever. I’m surprised Gabriel hasn’t already asked them.”
Charles huffed a laugh. “Gabriel and I have known each other for so long, he no longer sees me as anythingbut a friend. Maybe he’s noticed the resemblance in passing, but unless I point it out to him, he won’t say anything. You’re right, though. There will be others with sharper eyes. If you and I are partners at Cadieux’s, we’ll need to decide what to say to them.”
That was true, but Ivo didn’t want to announce the relationship immediately. Especially with Harrison sniffing around. “Maybe a vague reference to a family connection?” he suggested at last. “Everyone knows the Fitzsimmonses have a certain look. A strong resemblance to each other.” He waved his hand at Charles and then at his father’s portrait.
Charles shrugged. “As you wish,” he said. “I will not speak of your father’s indiscretion unless I am asked directly, and I doubt anyone will be rude enough to do that. Although Freddie…” He smiled at the thought of one of his best friends.
“I think Gabriel should know first. And then there is the question of Justina…”
Charles’s gaze sharpened and his carefree manner hardened. “You warned me off her,” he said slowly, as if he was seeing things from a different perspective now. “I think I see why. Is it that you believe I have inherited my father’s…yourfather’s predilection for seduction? I was angry at the time. I thought you considered me too many rungs below her on the social ladder, and that was why—”
“Not at all,” Ivo assured him. “My father was a likable man, a charming man, and I loved him dearly. I did not know about the procession of women until I was older. And as you also have a reputation with the ladies…” He gave Charles a challenging stare.
Again, Charles gave that huff of laughter. “I like women, I admit it, and there was a time when I found myself in their company a great deal. But since I began to help Gabriel withCadieux’s, I haven’t had time for carousing. And now I have met Justina and,” his smile was almost sweet, “I do not want to spend time with any woman but her.”
Ivo believed him, and besides, why would he lie? It wasn’t even as if Ivo was related to Justina and was therefore bound to protect her. But Gabriel was. Ivo suspected Charles would have a job persuading the Duke of Grantham of his sincerity. Things could get awkward, but Ivo did not doubt Charles would fight for her.
“You are in love with her,” he said.
Charles blushed, and it was heartening to see him lose that confidence again.
