Page 5 of The Duplicate Duke
CHAPTER3
“Let us introduce ourselves, my lady.I am Mr.Harry Walters, and this is Mr.Gus Rutland.We work for the O’Brien Investigative Services in London.Our client, the Viscount Wickton, is the great-nephew of the Duke of Shackerley.”He nodded at Gwen.“I’m sorry to have created an unpleasant situation.”
Gwen noticed the slight gray at the man’s temples and, in the back of her mind, registered him as handsome.“Whois the Duke of Shackerley?”
“He was your grandfather.”Her mother took Gwen’s hand, tears brightening her green eyes.“He and your father had a falling out over… me.We left for Quebec, and they never spoke again.”
“My name isn’t Bernard?”Her throat swelled; she couldn’t breathe.“Who am I?”
“The granddaughter of a duke.And a very wealthy one,” said the mammoth across from her.She hadn’t noticed his longer hair before, pulled back by a leather tie at his nape.He looked more fur trapper than investigator and good-looking in a brawny sort of way.“Our client does not want to assume the title if there is a possibility of a grandson.”
“We traced you from Quebec to Boston.The name change put us off for a bit until we realized it was your maiden name, but we’ve found you.Do you know where your son is?”
Mama shook her head.“Non, he left over a year ago to purchase land in Canada.He wants to start a timber business like his father hoped to do.But we haven’t heard from him in months.”
Mr.Rutland gave Gwen an empathetic look, which seemed odd for a man so big and burly.“That’s why you thought we came with bad news.”
She nodded, her mind a whirlwind with this news.She wasn’t Gwendolyn Bernard.Her mother wasn’t Mrs.Bernard.Her father had been heir to a dukedom?She blew out a loud breath and fell back against the settee.
“Why don’t we give you time to discuss this with your daughter, my lady,” said Mr.Walters.“I will leave the packets from the viscount and the solicitor for you to read at your leisure.We’ll return tomorrow and discuss your situation further.I need to ascertain what you know about your son’s direction when he left.”
Gwen looked at her mother, slack-jawed.My lady?
When the Englishmen left, Gwen turned on her mother.“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
Her mother studied her clasped hands resting in her lap.“There is.”
Dread skittered down Gwen’s spine.Could it get any worse?Silly question.
“I heard from my brother-in-law, your uncle,” she said quietly.“You know we’ve been living here rent-free since my sister died, and he left for… who knows where.He’s decided to continue traveling and will need funds, so he is selling the house.We will need to find another place to live.”
Yes, it could always get worse.“So we must not only find a way to survive, but also pay rent?”Gwen’s stomach churned.“The tutoring will not cover that.We are barely getting by as it is.How long do we have?”
“The solicitor’s instructions gave us at least a month.He will let us know when there is a prospective buyer.”Mama took a deep breath and pasted on a smile.“So really, this revelation about the inheritance is good news.”
The next morning
Gwen paced the worn parlor rug, still trying to come to grips with the news her mother was a marchioness and her brother a duke.According to Mama, she was Lady Gwendolyn Beaumaris.She was at once thrilled, relieved, and angry.
“Does Graham know?”she asked, turning to her mother who was calmly reading a book and enjoying undiluted sweet tea, courtesy of Mr.Barnaby.
Her mother nodded.“Oui, he does.He had to know for his own safety.I didn’t trust the duke not to kidnap him.Shackerley was a spiteful old man.”
A knock at the door sent Gwen’s heart racing.The investigators were back.She answered the door, watching them with suspicion as her mother seated them in the parlor.She listened as her mother explained the last known destination of her son.
“So when Harry—Lord Greywood—died, I was certain that nasty Englishman would come after my son.What was I to do?Just let him?”huffed her mother.“So I took back my family name of Bernard and found my sister in Boston.We’ve been here ever since.”
“Lady Greywood,” said Mr.Walters, “our client is most anxious to see his relatives in their rightful place.He has no other motive.”
“If your son is alive,” added Mr.Rutland, then giving the ladies a sheepish look of apology.
“Wouldn’t I be the heir if my brother is…” Gwen swallowed.“I should be next in line.”
“It doesn’t work that way, dear,” intervened her mother.“Only males can inherit.”
Gwen huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.“That’s ridiculous.What about Queen Elizabeth?”
“Different scenario, my lady,” said Mr.Walters.“When we find your son—because we will—the viscount will want you on the first ship to Liverpool.”
