Page 86 of The Moonstone Major
He groaned. “I am getting a special license and marrying you as soon as this storm abates. I don’t think I can survive even a day without you in my bed.”
He said no more, for there was suddenly a pounding at the door. “Secure the papers, Chloe. I’ll see who’s there. Likely it is Mr. Hawke come to check on you.”
She ran back to the dining room and placed weights on each neat stack. A candlestick atop one pile. A mantel clock upon another. A vase atop a third pile.
The wind howled through the hall as soon as Fionn opened the door.
Mr. Hawke and Cain, looking every bit the daunting Duke of Malvern, trudged in.
Cain scowled when he saw who had opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you, too,” Fionn shot back.
Mr. Hawke muttered a greeting and hurried to the stable to check on Sophocles, no doubt preferring to deal with a skittish horse than get caught between Fionn and the duke.
Fionn stepped aside to allow Cain in. “I was afraid for Chloe, worried she meant to cut across the beach to make it home before the storm hit. I rode over to give her a ride back to Westgate Hall, but the sky opened up while we had gone no further than the courtyard. I had to bring her back in here for her own safety.”
Cain sighed. “So, you have been alone with her all night?”
Chloe approached them now that the door was shut and the documents secured. “It wasn’t planned, for pity’s sake. If you must know, Fionn was not in the least happy about it. But he has already done the honorable thing and insisted on marrying me. So we are betrothed, and you had better not lay a hand on him or I shall complain about you to Hen.”
Cain emitted a deep, rumbling chuckle and held up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, truce. I expected no less of him. You’ll have my consent as soon as Fionn signs the betrothal contract, which I shall have drawn up at once. And I do not need you riling Hen against me, or she’ll chatter at me all night while I’m trying to sleep.” He stared from one to the other before continuing. “Dare I ask for a full account?”
Chloe winced. “No, because I am sure you did worse with Hen before you were properly married. So don’t you dare pass judgment. Besides, we actually got work done. We need you to write to your Bow Street man right away and ask him to dig up as much information as he can on a gentleman by the name of Joseph Brennan.”
Cain arched an eyebrow. “You mean the former viscount?”
Chloe gasped and dragged her brother-in-law into the dining room. “You know of him? He was a viscount?”
“Yes, the elder brother of Fionn’s benefactor,” he said, taking the marriage certificate she now stuffed in his hands and perusing it. “When he died, Fionn’s benefactor assumed the title. Blessed saints, do you mean to tell me that Joseph was married to Fiona Arundel? Who is she, exactly?”
“Our ghost sea captain’s sister,” Chloe said. “And I think it is no coincidence that Fionn’s given name happens to be a masculine version of Fiona. I think Fionn is their son. Theirlegitimateson. Born in wedlock.”
Cain raked a hand through his hair as he stared from one to the other. “You two have been busy. And you really think there is a connection between Fionn and this pair? Fiona and Joseph? Well, little Imogen noticed an Arundel family resemblance. But it is so far-fetched.”
“Indeed, it is,” Fionn agreed. “Chloe is letting her hopes lead her astray.”
“I am not,” she insisted. “Don’t run from this information, Fionn. I understand what it means if all this turns out to be true. The current viscount was no kind benefactor but a usurper of—”
“Don’t!” Fionn’s heart was in his throat, and he truly could not handle any more of this discussion. It was inconceivable that these people might be his parents.
Nor did it escape his notice that there were significant consequences to this discovery, just as Chloe was attempting to point out. If Joseph was the eldest Brennan and viscount during his life…and if he had been lawfully wed to Fiona Arundel…and if she had given birth to a son, namely him…
No, that would mean he was the rightful viscount and his benefactor had actually cheated him out of his place in Society. Not that he cared a whit about Society, but that this man he had trusted and adored for his kindness had actually been lying to him all along and denying him the truth of his heritage?
It was not possible.
Why would his benefactor ever knowingly take him in, provide for him, and educate him if he were truly intent on stealing his birthright? A pang of guilt? It could not have been all that much of a guilty pang, since Viscount Brennan had effortlessly concealed the truth for all these years.
No, none of it made sense.
Why bring the heir into his home when he could have easily done away with the threat by having him killed in a squalid alley and no one would ever have investigated or cared about the death of yet another street urchin? Problem resolved. Threat disposed of.
Chloe seemed to be reading his thoughts and related them to Cain, her mind leaping to these same ridiculous conclusions. Now, both of them had their gazes fixed on him. “I am not a damned viscount,” he growled.
“I don’t care if you turn out to be the lost prince of Persia,” Chloe muttered. “This exercise is for your sake, not mine. I don’t care what titles you hold or whether you hold any at all. I am in love with the man you are. Cain, do you know what happened to Joseph Brennan?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. All I know is that he died and Fionn’s benefactor became the new viscount.” Cain tossed Fionn a pained glance. “I’m sorry you never knew your father.”
