Page 85 of When He Was a Duke
James poured two glasses of whiskey and settled across from him. “You look like Papa. Dressed in such dapper clothing.” He gestured at Sebastian’s fine clothes.
Sebastian took a sip of whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat. “That’s because I am Sebastian Ashford again. Calling myself Doyle will no longer be necessary. Or will be, if the Crown accepts my petition.”
James went very still. “You’ve done it?”
“I have.”
“Tell me everything.”
So Sebastian did. He told him about Mr. Hale’s suspicions, about Rose’s recovered memories of that terrible night, about the constable’s investigation that had uncovered the full scope of Wentworth’scrimes. He explained how Baron White had been arrested and sent to London, how her father had died during the confrontation, how the truth had finally come to light after all these years.
James listened without interruption, his expression cycling through shock, anger, and finally, a deep satisfaction.
“That blackhearted monster,” James said when Sebastian finished. “Finally, we know the truth. Not that we doubted Papa’s innocence, of course. It is exactly as he explained it to us before he was hanged. This is finally done. We can go forward with our lives.”
“The loss remains, but it’s easier to accept now that we have justice.”
“And this Rose—Lady Rose—she helped you uncover all of this?”
“She did more than help. She risked everything.” Sebastian’s voice grew intense. “James, when she remembered what really happened that night, she could have stayed silent. She could have protected her father’s reputation, maintained her position in Society. Instead, she chose justice. She chose the truth.”
James turned back to him, studying Sebastian’s face. “You care about her.”
“More than care.” Sebastian met his brother’s eyes directly. “I’m in love with her, James. Desperately, completely in love with her.”
James returned to his chair slowly, his expression unreadable.
“Wentworth’s daughter,” James said quietly. “This is unexpected.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“Do you?” James leaned forward. “Because it sounds like you’ve fallen in love with the daughter of the man who destroyed our family.”
Sebastian felt his jaw tighten. “She’s not her father, James. She’s nothing like him.”
“Tell me about her.”
The simple request caught Sebastian off guard. He’d expected anger, perhaps even accusations of betrayal. Instead, James waited with genuine curiosity.
Sebastian struggled to find words. “She’s been virtually imprisoned her entire life, controlled and manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a tool for his ambitions. But instead of becoming bitter or cruel, she remained kind. Compassionate. Everyone who works for her or spends time with her for any amount of time loves her.”
“And when you told her who you really were?”
“She was hurt, yes. Confused. But I told her how I felt and that I was willing to walk away and leave it be. For her. For love.”
James was quiet for a long moment, turning his whiskey glass in his hands. “What did she say?”
Sebastian’s confidence faltered. “That’s where I grow uncertain. There have been moments when I was certain she shared my feelings, but I am not so sure.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure she could truly love someone who brought about her father’s downfall, even if he deserved it. And no, she has not told me how she feels. In fact, the night it all went down, she left the room without even looking at me. Before I return to her and find out what’s in her heart, I needed you to know what had happened and see if you can accept her as my wife. Should she have me, that is. Which is still very much in doubt.”
James set down his glass and leaned back in his chair. “What kind of man was our father, Sebastian?”
The question seemed to come from nowhere. “He was good. Honorable. He loved his family. That most of all.”
“And if he were here now, knowing everything you’ve told me about Lady Rose and of your deep feelings for her, what do you think he would say?”
