Page 58 of Who Wants to Marry a Duke
He felt Gwyn’s gaze on him. He might end up having to tellherwhat information Lady Norley had blackmailed him with, but perhaps that was just as well. As Shakespeare once wrote, “truth will out.” And he was tired of keeping his late father’s secrets.
“Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” the constable said, “but that don’t sound right. His Grace wasn’t the reckless sort of young man. And knowing he was to be a father very soon would have kept him from recklessness anyway.”
Thorn forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.” He toyed with the handle of his empty coffee cup. “One more question before you go. Whydidmy father head off to London that day? Mother said he had urgent business, but she didn’t seem to know what it was.” Or she hadn’t wanted to say, which was more likely. “And as you pointed out, he was expecting to be a father any day. So why rush off and leave our mother with only servants to attend her?”
The constable was already shaking his head. “He didn’t leave the duchess by herself. There was a house full of people—his family, her family, some of her friends who wanted to be here for the birth. . . . She wasn’t alone, in any case.”
Thorn and Gwyn exchanged glances. Their mother had never said anything about houseguests. Then again, she didn’t like to talk about that day at all.
“You don’t happen to know who exactly was here, do you?” Thorn asked.
“No, Duke, I don’t. I’m sorry.” He pushed his cup aside. “But as for why your father left, the gossip in town was he hurried off to London to fetch some famous accoucheur to deliver the babe. It was looking like you were coming early, and everyone was worried about that. Of course, once you proved to be twins, that explained the early birth. And our local midwife did just fine in delivering you both.”
Because Mother hadn’t had a choice. By the time she’d gone into labor, Father had already died trying to bring back that “famous accoucheur.” Thorn preferred that explanation of Father’s sudden London trip to the one Lady Norley had offered. Perhaps she’d been wrong. Perhaps she’d even lied. It did seem odd that Father would have gone off to visit a mistress while they’d had a houseful of guests at Rosethorn.
And why hadn’t Mother ever mentioned that, anyway? Perhaps because it hadn’t signified when compared to the awful circumstances surrounding Father’s death.
In any case, the constable had told them more than they knew before. It was nothing concrete, but it did support the idea that Father might have had good reason for hurrying to London. And the fact that there had been so many guests around meant that in both cases—the death of Grey’s father and the death of his and Gwyn’s father—there’d been a sort of house party going on. So they should pursue that angle.
Thorn stood. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been invaluable in giving us a place to start.” As the constable rose as well, Thorn held out his hand. “We appreciate your candor and the information you did have to offer.”
The constable shook Thorn’s hand. “I only wish I could have been of more help, Your Grace.” He picked up his hat and headed for the door. Then he paused. “But if you’re still curious about the accident, you ought to pay a visit to your late father’s coachman.”
“He’s alive?” Gwyn said. “We understood that he hadn’t survived his injuries.”
“Well,” Upton said, “he didn’t entirely. His head ain’t quite right, and his legs don’t work. But he still might remember something of use to you. Your mother made sure he received the best of care and a pension, too, so he’s to be looked after for the rest of his days. Just keep in mind that he was in his forties at the time of the accident, so now he’s in his seventies. Lives over in Newbury with his daughter.”
Another surprise. But Thorn should have known. He paid the funds for that pension, yet he’d never asked who the man was that received it. It was a sobering realization. What else did he not know about the past?
“I best be getting on then,” the constable said. “Let me know if you wish me to bring you over to visit the coachman, Your Grace.” He nodded to Gwyn. “And thank you for the coffee, my lady. You grew up to be as gracious as your mother.”
Gwyn smiled warmly. “You couldn’t have paid me a higher compliment, sir.”
After he left, Gwyn took a seat at the table once more. “Well! That was interesting.”
“To say the least.” Thorn sat down and poured himself more coffee. “Did you know about that house party? Because I didn’t.”
“That was the firstI’dheard of it, to be sure.” She tapped her chin. “We should ask Mother who was here.”
“Absolutely. I’ll leave that to you. You’re better at not rousing her suspicions.”
Gwyn rose to go look out the window. “I wonder if we’re making a mistake in not telling Mama what we’re investigating. She’s the one whose husbands were quite possibly murdered. Shouldn’t she at least know that? She might be able to give us information that we require.”
“Yes, but if we’re wrong, then we’ve roused her painful memories for nothing.”
Gwyn shook her head. “Mama isn’t as fragile as you fellows seem to think. Besides, from what I gleaned from Lady Hornsby during my debut, Mama barely tolerated Grey’s father. He married her for her fortune, which he then looted as soon as the wedding was over. She never speaks of him with any kind of affection.”
“True, but he also gave her a son. Whom she loves dearly.”
“My point is, her only memories of Grey’s father are bad ones, so rousing those won’t be a problem. I suspect she’s happy he died when he did.”
“Probably.” Thorn drank more coffee. “Especially since she found our father as a result. Things were different between her and him than between her and Grey’s father, though.” For the first time in nine years, he could almost believe in that again.
“I think they truly were in love,” Gwyn said.
“Or they truly believed they were, anyway,” he said.
“Are you still so cynical?” Gwyn asked. “Hasn’t Olivia changed your opinion about love in the least?”
