The Heart of a Duke (31 page)

“I have not taken a bloody thing from you except Julia. I would say I am sorry for that, but I am not. But I give you my word of honor that if you let her live, I will do the same for you. I have a life in America, we can go there.” He kept his voice level, his eyes steady on Edmund’s, not daring to glance Julia’s way.

“You don’t get it. You have no idea,” Edmund sounded incredulous.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He fought to maintain the calm façade that Edmund was losing.

“It was your life or mine,” Edmund said. “For the title is my life, and it belongs to you.”

Daniel stared at him blankly. “Excuse me?” he managed, not certain he had heard him correctly.

“He thought you were going to die, and you did not. You did not! You never do.” Edmund emitted a hysterical laugh. “You were delivered first, but were so damn thin and sickly. And all the others had died.”

He fell silent as if waiting for Daniel to catch up, to fit the last piece into the puzzle. And suddenly, he did.

Destined to die like all the others.

His mother had suffered a full dozen heart-wrenching miscarriages. Twelve babies in ten years. He had heard of his father’s joy at the birth of two healthy boys. But he had not been as robust, nor as strong as his twin. Edmund had stolen the nutrients from him as he had continued to do throughout his life. Edmund had been born larger, thriving, while he had been delivered sickly, half the size.

So a betrayal was born. His father had not bothered to wait for his death certificate, but had convinced the doctor to change the order of their birth, declaring Edmund his heir.

“He was so sure,” Edmund spat. “But you survived, like you always bloody do. And father finally had an attack of conscience. Said he was morally obligated to correct past mistakes. For the sake of the estate. He kept droning on about your understanding the land better, more attuned to it and the tenants. Said I lacked patience. As if I was going to run the estates myself, like a bailiff or worse, a farmer.” He sounded appalled at the thought.

Daniel shook his head as the full picture became clear. “Shaw drew up the petition to the Prince Regent. That is what Shaw held over you? What you have been searching for and what Shaw’s son mailed to me care of Theo?”

“Yes,” Edmund snapped. “Father kept talking those last days. Would not keep quiet. Nattering on about moral obligations, protecting the estate, purging his soul, and making amends to you for his wrongs. I was his son, too. But he never saw me anymore. Just you.”

Daniel cringed at the bitterness etched into Edmund’s words, born of a hatred that had festered for years, driving him to madness.

His father had more than one betrayal for which he needed to make amends. He had wronged them both. They were his sons, but he only saw his heirs, conduits to the estate and the next generation, who was best to ensure that longevity.

“Shaw drafted the petitions, confessing everything. I would have lost it all,” Edmund cried. “Everything I had been groomed to own. Did you honestly think I would let that happen? I knew Shaw and Reilly could be bought. Everybody has a price, but theirs kept going up. Reilly charging me for trips, land, and whatever his latest venture was. And Shaw. Christ, the man was like a sieve with money, could not stay away from the cards or ahead of the bloody creditors. They were bleeding me dry,” he bellowed.

“So you started doing the same to the estate.”

Edmund snorted. “You never understood. You still do not. I am not paying the tenants to feast off my land when I can get the same work at cheaper wages.” Edmund shook his head as if to clear it. “I am not explaining myself to you. This is over.”

It is time. Come home and claim your destiny.

He had never been too late, but Shaw’s cryptic missive may have been.

Good lord. His whole life a lie. It did not matter. It never had. The land was in his soul, but Julia . . . Julia was his heart.

He looked Edmund dead in the eye. “You can have it. You can have it all. You asked for an exchange and I am giving you a damn fair one. Our lives for a dukedom. Release her and it is yours. You get your life back, and I . . .” His eyes met Julia’s and he smiled gamely at her. “I save mine.”

Julia’s lips parted, her eyes widening, tears streaking her cheeks. “Daniel.”

She did not speak, but mouthed the words. He heard them and so much more.

Edmund scoffed. “You have been in America too long. This is England. You cannot give up a dukedom. It is not done. Do not take me for a fool.”

“Let her go, Edmund. Let her go and you live, harm one hair on her head and you die.”

Edmund stiffened, Julia crying out as he instinctively tightened his grip. “Be silent! It is too late. Too damn late,” he scowled.

Daniel paled at hearing the ominous epitaph he had once sworn would grace his gravestone. He held up his hands in a placating gesture, seeing the cornered look in Edmund’s eyes.

“The whole place is set to explode. And that will be the end of it.”

“You do not want to do that, Edmund. There are too many people who know. I am not alone. Robbie is here and Brett Curtis and—”

“Robbie has no title, and Curtis is an American,” he sneered the word derisively. “Their word against mine will not stand.”

“What about Taunton? People take notice of the word of an earl.”

“You brought Taunton with you?” Edmund breathed. He cast another frantic look around the balcony. “No matter. He is the aggrieved father of a ruined, dead daughter.”

Julia cried out.

“Enough,” Edmund bellowed. “Enough of this.” He dragged Julia farther backward, closer to the balustrade as Daniel advanced upon him.

“Edmund, please, listen to me. It is not over.” Daniel kept moving toward him.

Edmund dragged Julia back until his legs hit the balustrade. As he glanced behind him to gauge the distance to the ground, a shot rang out.

Edmund’s bellow rent the air as the bullet ripped through his jacket, piercing the arm holding the knife to Julia’s throat. The wounded appendage dropped and dangled uselessly to his side, the knife clattering to the ground. Stunned, Edmund glanced down, as if not fully comprehending the red stream leaking from the hole in his jacket.

He had only seconds to contemplate it, for with a cry Julia shoved free.

Daniel lunged toward Edmund, who staggered back, his knees hitting the cement wall behind him. His good arm flailed like a windmill to right his balance, and then he was gone, tumbling backward, green eyes wide with horror.

Daniel raced to the ledge to see Edmund sprawled on the slate patio, his sightless eyes open, blood pooling around his arm.

Daniel swallowed hard. Then Julia was in his arms, and he crushed her close, against his heart, where she belonged.

There was a pounding of boots, and he lifted his head to see Taunton and then Brett barrel onto the balcony. He gave them a brief nod, which Taunton returned, his eyes on his daughter. Julia looked up, and seeing her father, she ran into his open arms.

Taunton held his daughter. “I thank you.”

“No, I thank you,” Daniel said, grinning.

“It was your cousin,” Brett said, wonder in his voice. “Lord Bryant shot him. The man’s a crack shot. Probably years of watching birds. Has a keen eye.”

“I owe him my life.”

“I would say you are even,” Brett said. “Had he mailed you Shaw’s package, this might have been avoided. Lord Bryant said he had received a letter from you saying you were returning home, so he was holding Shaw’s papers until you visited. Thought to turn them over to you in person. What the devil was in them?”

“Confessions and a change in my inheritance. Later, I will explain it all later,” Daniel said, a weariness sweeping over him.

Julia stepped away from her father and returned to his side. “I am sorry about Edmund, Daniel. So very sorry. I had no idea he was . . .” She shuddered. “Thank God you ruined me.”

“It was my greatest pleasure.” He tucked a loose curl around her ear. “I am sorry, too. But I have friends who stand beside me, a new family, a wife whom I love dearly, and a nursery to fill. All things considered, that is pretty good for a scrawny runt.”

Julia smiled, her eyes shining with love. “Let us go home.”

He hesitated, and then cleared his throat. “About that. It seems we will be residing at Bedford Hall. You will make a magnificent duchess.”

“As long as you are there, Your Grace.”

“Just try to rid yourself of me,” Daniel murmured, pulling her into his arms.

He had claimed his destiny.

S
IT
down for God’s sake, you’re going to carve a hole in the carpet,” Brett barked. “And you are giving my neck a cramp watching you. Everything will be fine, Your Grace.”

Taunton laughed.

Daniel glowered at them. “You do not know everything will be fine. You forget, your sisters are unmarried and thus never had a baby before. This was a mistake. Whose idea was this? And stop calling me Your Grace.”

Taunton squeezed his shoulder. “She is young and strong. She will be fine. I have been through this.” Despite the conviction in his voice, he tugged at his tie and swallowed. “Three times.”

Daniel noticed his father-in-law’s pallor and guilt stabbed him. He was not the only one suffering. This had to be difficult for Taunton, who had lost his wife in childbed. Daniel’s legs went slack and he dropped into the chair behind him.

“He sits. It’s a miracle.”

He snarled at Brett, who held up his hands.

This was a bad idea. He had taken on too much. He was still adjusting to having inherited a dukedom, being a member of a close-knit family, and marriage.

As godfather to the baby, Brett had announced his decision to stay until the baby’s birth. Daniel knew his friend was not ready to concede defeat with Emily, but his sister-in-law was clever. Daniel trusted her to lead him on a merry chase.

Remarkably, he was getting accustomed to being at home at Bedford Hall. Julia’s presence helped to chase away the lingering shadows. She brought love and laughter to the house. There was still much healing to be done, but things were progressing and Taunton’s tutelage had proved invaluable.

A private funeral had been held for Edmund. News of his accidental death while hunting on his cousin’s estate was keeping the gossip mill well oiled.

Daniel’s life had settled into a comfortable rhythm, so why had he disrupted it? He should have kept his hands off of her. He was still stinging from the slash of Julia’s temper earlier. Between clenched teeth, she had warned him he would never sleep in her bed again, and that she planned to build a room for him in the stables. She had said some other rather harsh things until Emily had whisked him from their room.

What did he know of being a father?

He stood up. He had changed his mind. He sat down again. He had provided Brett with enough amusement for the night. Brett still kept chuckling over his vow of celibacy. He dropped his face into his hands and exhaled.

“Congratulations, Your Grace.”

He lifted his head. Emily stood framed in their bedroom door and she was smiling. He shot to his feet and staggered over to her. “Is she . . . ?”

“She is. Come and see.”

He charged into the room. Julia lay in the center of the bed, a tired smile on her face.

He gingerly lowered himself onto the bed beside her, taking her hands into his. “Are you all right?”

“I am wonderful. And so are the babies.”

The tension gripping him poured out in a wave of relief. She did look wonderful, albeit a bit weary. Her cheeks were mottled, and loose tendrils of hair curled over a damp cheek and her forehead. He brushed them back from her temple and froze.

Babies?

“You mean baby.”

“Congratulations.” Julia removed her hand from his to lift the cover of the swaddling she held. He exhaled, for there lay the tiniest baby he had ever seen. “Meet your son.”
One baby
. One thing at a time, for he had too many responsibilities as is.

“And your daughter.” She smiled and Daniel froze as Emily thrust a warm bundle into his arms.

He stared at the sleeping face of a pink angel. He couldn’t breathe.

“Daniel, are you all right? Aren’t they beautiful?”

His eyes shot to hers, and he relaxed again. She was beautiful and strong and his anchor. She wouldn’t let him falter. His gaze drifted between his son and his daughter. They were . . . small. Runts like him. Fear gripped him. “They are terribly small.”

“Thank goodness. Any larger and you really would be sleeping in the stables,” she said dryly. She must have read his panicked expression, for she squeezed his hand. “They have you to protect them until they grow.”

For her sake, he managed to summon a smile. But she was right. He would protect them with his life. He knew all about surviving against a hostile world, not that their world would be hostile . . . his smile faded. “What if they hate each other?”

Julia laughed softly. Her hand cupped his cheek, and she turned his face from his daughter toward her. “Then we will teach them that love is stronger than hate. They will learn it from watching their father because he has so much love to give and does so generously.” She squeezed his hand. “You will save them just as you saved me.”

He kissed her gently and felt his throat clog. He had to blink furiously, for his eyes were suspiciously moist.

“Thank God I ruined you.”