Page 14 of A Lord's Chance
Nobbie didn’t like that his feelings were so transparent to his best friend, especially when Lawndry hadn’t even given him permission to use his first name; he knew it—Lloyd—but they hadn’t discussed that type of intimacy yet. He couldn’t speak, just nodded at his friend, and they walked together towards Lawndry who stood with Mr Milson from Sotheby’s and a tall, thin white man.
“Mr Gilbert. I’m so pleased you are here.” Lawndry’s warm smile didn’t help the situation or settle the riot in his abdomen.
“Lawndry.”
“This is His Grace, the Duke of Winchester.” Lawndry introduced him to the man who was perhaps fifteen years older than Nobbie, with blue eyes and the same brown hair that most of the ton shared. Nobbie bowed low, as did Adam, who straightened up and gasped. Nobbie glanced sideways at his friend’s unbelievable rudeness towards an actual Duke. The two of them knew how important it was to behave precisely around people who could easily crush them, and Adam was usually the best of their four friends at wooing the toffs and their offspring.
“I take it you are the owner of 79?” Winchester didn’t mention the watch’s brand, and Nobbie assumed that Lawndry had already talked Winchester’s ears off about the bloody watch. His obsession would be the undoing of everyone but at least there was no way it was a scam, unless the scam was to get access to the Duke, but as a Lord, Lawndry already had that. Maybe it was time to relax and trust that Lawndry’s interest truly was just about the watch.
“Yes, your grace.” He began to pull the watch from his fob pocket to show the Duke.
“You have her eyes.” Winchester sighed. “And the Winchester nose and chin, you poor thing.”
Nobbie dropped the watch and it dangled on its chain, hitting him in the thigh, as he touched his chin automatically. “Excuse me?”
“I think we should retire to the library. Lawndry, Milson, you should come too.” Winchester bowed his head slightly, then walked off. It was typical of a Duke to expect everyone to follow, but they all did. Lawndry was practically vibrating as he walked beside him.
“What is happening, Lawndry?”
“He knows who Hobart is, but he said it’s not a story for me. I’m so curious to know who he is. We had only just met when you walked towards us, and I haven’t told him much of the story yet. I only mentioned that I had found watch 79 and knew the owner. You.”
Adam choked. “Something tells me that you are going to discover the truth very soon.”
Nobbie would’ve tackled Adam for a comment like that when they’d been younger, and his hands clenched into fists as he tried to stop himself. They were in society. He had to hold his nerve.
“What do you mean?” He hissed.
“Looking at the Duke of Winchester is like looking at you. He’s right about the chin and nose.”
“No.” Nobbie had only been making up silly stories at Sotheby’s when the possibility raised its ugly head. “No.”
“Perhaps he’ll marry Hedwick’s daughter,” Adam laughed. “I could make Hedwick grateful. Imagine, a Duke for his daughter! And a Duke is likely to have some funds to fill our pockets with for the privilege.”
“Perhaps.” Nobbie was grateful for his friend changing the subject. “You’ll have to vet him first to make sure he’s not...”
“Yes.” Adam cut him off because they walked into the library. The sumptuous room was typical of a library in a toff’s house, filled with pretty objects and many books, but none of them likely to have been read. Harrington—whose house it was—was hardly a scholar. His grace waved at some chairs, and they all sat obediently. Who would dare disagree with a Duke?
“Lawndry, please introduce your friends.”
“This is Mr Gilbert, the owner of the Hobart number 79. I’ve inspected it myself and can confirm it is genuine, and you’ve met Mr Milson, the horologist at Sotheby’s.” Lawndry sat on the edge of his chair, leaning forward as if he anticipated needing to leap up and flee the room, or maybe that was just a reflection of the swirling panic inside him. He needed to leave, to throw the fucking watch in the Thames, and go to the antipodes where no one would know anything about him, where no one would say, ‘gosh darn it, you look remarkably like the Duke of Winchester. You have his chin.’ Nobbie wanted to vomit. And all around him, people were behaving politely as if nothing had changed, even Milson bowed his head low for the Duke on his introduction.
“And this other person?”
“I am Mr Adam Milnes, your grace. Mr Gibson and I have some business interests together.” Adam stepped in to save Lawndry who was staring slightly wide-eyed at Adam, who he’d never met, and saving Nobbie from having to explain why he’d brought a friend with him.
“Everything I say in this room must be kept in strict confidence.” His grace then let out a long sigh and everyone waited. Nobbie held his breath.
“Fuck it,” the Duke swore. He actually swore. “Mr Gilbert, even without the watch as evidence, from the look of you, it’s obvious that you are my half-brother. I always wondered if you’d survived.”
Nobbie froze. Ice formed in his veins and his entire body went cold. No. Loud voices surrounded him, and it felt like everyone was yelling at once, and he couldn’t figure any of this out.
“Why did you abandon me?”
The room fell silent and eventually Winchester coughed.
“I did not abandon you, and neither did my father. It’s complicated.”
“Seems simple to me.” He was the one who’d been left on the doorstep of the Duke Street Orphanage as a baby.
