The Secret Lover (46 page)

Caleb
did
fly. He excelled at all things, never letting his illegitimacy stop him.

Trevor, on the other hand, was a lazy, indolent child, a mediocre student, and lacking in all ambition. It seemed his one desire in life was to gamble.

Those were the reasons Will had made the changes to his will. He had summoned Trevor to his study to tell him of the changes. Trevor had, of course, been angry—Will could now clearly remember his terrible bitterness, how he had accused him of horrible deceptions, of loving Ian and the bastard brother he never knew more than he loved his own son.

It was, unfortunately, true.

How he regretted the turn of fate now! Guilt ate him—perhaps Trevor would have been different had he loved the sullen little boy.

Darby went on to tell the spellbound group that days after Will's ugly encounter with Trevor, on a cold, blustery afternoon, the seizure had invaded his body like a bloody bolt of lightning from the sky. Will wished he could explain the terror—there had been no warnings, no symptoms.

He had simply awoken to find himself locked in a gnarled body, capable of thought, but his memory obliterated, and lacking all the words and the ability to act.

"I prescribed the opiate," Dr. Breedlove interjected here. "I confess, I was rather uncertain whether or not Lord Hamilton was in any pain. He was unable to communicate a'tall. I showed Trevor how much of the drug to give him to make him comfortable. Unfortunately, Trevor increased the dosage, and kept him in something very near a perpetual state of paralysis."

"I rather suspect that with the moneylenders threatening Ian's life, Mr.

Hamilton apparently realized instantly his dumb luck in his father's seizure. The opiate kept his father in a state that allowed him to steal from him."

"
Steal
from him?" echoed Caleb, incredulous.

Darby nodded and continued on, telling them that Trevor's scheme was simple—Darby had even seen him put the banknote beneath his father's hand on one occasion. As Will listened to Darby, he still held fast to his belief that Trevor had not intended to do it more than once. But it had proven too easy to do—by manipulating the dates and using various venues for the banknotes, no banking authority could readily discern what he was about. Trevor made doubly sure he was safe by gradually increasing the dosage of opiate until it greatly exceeded what the doctor had prescribed. Further, by denying visitors, no one could see just how infirm the opiate made Will.

"Why, then, did he bring Father to London?" Caleb demanded, clearly agitated.

"My personal opinion, sir, is that he grew complacent. Having abused the local banking institution, he thought the height of the Season was a good time to continue his scheme at the Bank of England, where the viscount had considerable holdings. He was moved, in part, by your attempts to see your father."

"But he did not account for Madame Fortier," Sophie said thoughtfully.

"Yes. Honor," Will said, nodding vigorously.

"Madame Fortier?" Julian asked, obviously confused.

"But I have done nothing for this son!" Honorine insisted.

"Yet when you met him in Regent's Park," Sophie explained, "you knew that the viscount's mind was functioning."

"It was not only his mind," Honorine said with a blushing smile.

"That was when she began to work with you, isn't it, my lord? Helped you to move, to learn simple tasks again. The improvement was miraculous."

"Yes, it was," Will readily agreed. "I owe her m-my life. Unfortunately, Trevor's-saw the improvement, t-too."

Darby sighed sadly. "He was quite mad," he said simply, and told them how Trevor had arrived at Hamilton House looking very much like a madman, and worse, acting like one. He had immediately accused Honorine of kidnapping for the purpose of extorting money from the Hamilton estate. This, Darby added of his own accord, he believed Trevor had said to cover up his
own
thievery. Trevor had promptly locked Will away, had administered dangerous doses of the opiate, and had called for the sheriff to have Honorine taken away and charged with a host of crimes.

"What he could not predict, however, was exactly
when
he would have the sheriff to Hamilton House," Darby said with not a little bit of pride. "I delayed the request, hoping to give Madame Fortier time to escape.

Fortunately, I was aided in that endeavor by the arrival of Mr. Hamilton."

"Yes, I can attest to the fact that he was quite deranged," Caleb said, frowning. "And Father horribly incapacitated. And knowing Trevor's influence in the parish, I had no hope the sheriff would listen to anyone but him. I feared for Madame Fortier's safety—we fled to Kettering Hall."

"But we also feared for Lord Hamilton," Sophie interjected. "Miss Brillhart took our concern to the constable in Kettering."

"And we were quite fortunate to have both the constable and the sheriff arrive just two mornings past," Darby informed them. "Unfortunately, not before Trevor discovered his father was not drugged as he had planned, but rather well and remembering more and more each day."

"Where
is
Trevor?" Caleb asked again. "How did you manage to free yourself of his captivity? The drug?"

"Honor," Will said. "She m-made me remember the m-medicine."

"Madame Fortier had, on the occasion of their trip to Hamilton House, already deduced that it was the medicine that was making him so senseless," Darby added. "She told him—just before you rushed her away—

to remember what he had learned, to remember the medicine. It jogged his memory, and from that point forward, he merely pretended to take the medicine, disposing of it as soon as Mr. Hamilton had left the room. Then he would force himself to stand and walk, to keep up his strength.

"It so happens that I inadvertently discovered him pacing his rooms one night. He was much more lucid than before and was able to tell me what was happening. In addition, he told me there was something about you, sir," he said, gesturing at Caleb, "that he could not seem to remember but that he knew was important. Seeing what Mr. Hamilton was about, and truthfully, having suspected for some time that things were not quite right with him, I took it upon myself to discover where he kept the opiate. Once I discovered it, I substituted a bit of tea for it, so his lordship was in no danger. At night, when Mr. Hamilton took to his drink, Lord Hamilton and I were overhead, walking and talking until he recaptured his memory.

Fortunately, he began to remember it all quite clearly, and in particular, the will."

"We planned to confront him with his perfidy, hoping rather to surprise him with the sheriff. As it happens, Mr. Trevor Hamilton surprised
us
one night, walking into his lordship's suite as we worked. When Mr. Hamilton saw his father walking and speaking, he understood that the opiate had not been administered. The viscount seized his opportunity, told him that he remembered everything quite clearly, and that the sheriff would arrive on the morrow. Mr. Hamilton took this news rather badly, I must say. He pleaded with his father to understand. He pleaded for a sum of five thousand pounds, saying that he was quite certain there were people looking for him now that would harm him if he couldn't raise it. The viscount promised to consider it the following morning."

"But with morning's light, Mr. Trevor Hamilton was nowhere to be found. No note, nothing but a few articles of clothing gone missing, and a bit of cash, and some of his late wife's jewelry Lord Hamilton had kept in the wall safe. The rest of the story, I think you know. The only issue, which remains unclear, is exactly how much he might have stolen from his father. The viscount has sent for his man from London to assess it."

The conclusion of Darby's speech was met with silence. The group exchanged glances with one another, all of them struggling to understand how a man could find himself in such desperate circumstance as to turn against his own father.

It was Caleb who finally broke the silence. He rose from his seat, came and knelt by Will's side. "Thank God you are quite all right. I have worried so about your health these last months. It was plain to see, even from a distance, that you were not improving. It was not until Madame Fortier began to take her daily walks with you that I saw a measure of improvement. Sophie and I both agreed that you looked terribly robust in her company, but frail in your own home."

Will cocked his head at that. He had been ill, and perhaps a bit slow, but he at least recognized it was unusual for his son to address a lady by her given name. "Sophie?" he asked, glancing at the pretty young woman on the settee.

"Actually, I should say Mrs. Hamilton," Caleb clarified, and smiling proudly, extended his hand toward her. "We married yesterday."

Will's heart surged to the point of bursting. But… Caleb's lack of legitimate name was more than anyone could hope to overcome—Will jerked his gaze to Julian Dane, one brow lifted. "You approve?"

The Earl of Kettering lifted his hands, and laughing, shook his head. "It was not my decision to make or approve, my lord; I assure you my sister has made that quite clear. But yes, whether she wants it or not, she has our blessing. Her happiness is paramount to any other issue, and I think you can see from her silly grin that she is quite happy."

She rose from the settee, her eyes shining, and glided to where Will sat.

"Happy? I think the word does not do justice to my feelings, my lord."

"I know these words. My Sofia, she loves him very much," Honorine said, laughing.

Will's eyes suddenly misted; he looked down at his gnarled hand, and remembered, with painful acuity, the many times he had cried for this son, had wished for him all the happiness he had so surely taken from him with the manner of his birth. It was more than he had ever dared hope for Caleb—to simply be accepted for the man he was. To be loved, to be honored, to be cherished for what was in his soul, and not to be spurned for his lack of name. To fly.

It was, he thought sadly, the perfect antidote to Trevor's betrayal.

He looked up, saw the way his son looked at Lady Sophie, and smiled.

He motioned her to him. "Come…"

Later that evening, when they sat around the long dining room table, Julian sat admiring his youngest sister. Anyone could see, looking at Sophie now, that she was a changed person. The happiness shining in her big brown eyes made her appear lovelier than he had ever remembered seeing her. She was vibrant, alive—drawing laughter from everyone as she cheerfully regaled them with stories of her travels with Madame Fortier.

The stories were, naturally, punctuated with Honorine's disavowal of strange places and even stranger events, much to their collective amusement, and particularly, that of Lord Hamilton. He, too, looked like a new man. And Caleb, well, good God, a man's chest could positively burst with so much pride.

But as Julian sat beside Sophie now, he took her hand in his, leaned toward her, and whispered, "You are the luckiest of us all, you know."

She laughed brightly at that, patted his knee. "Now I know you've had too much wine, Julian."

He shook his head. "I am quite serious, pumpkin. Only you have the luxury to do as you please, you know that? The women in London, they are bound by society's many expectations and rules. When I look at you, I see a woman freed of such earthly bonds, free to be who she pleases, free to love as openly and completely as she desires. For years, you felt imprisoned by your scandal, and I think, buried in your remorse. I so hoped that you would come to see your freedom. I prayed you would find happiness. I suppose I never thought it would be in England, but when I see you sitting here like you are, wearing a smile that could light the night sky, I realize,
you
are the luckiest among us all."

Sophie smiled, glanced at Caleb across from her, the love shining in her eyes. "I know," she said softly. And when she turned to look at Julian again, her eyes were shining with tears of joy. "All my life, I was never really certain of who I was or where I belonged. But I know now, Julian, I know who I am. I am Sophie."

In the weeks that followed, Sophie and Caleb said farewell to her family, made arrangements through Julian for the house in Regent's Park to be finished and sold—knowing that they would build their home anew—

and left a smiling Honorine standing next to Lord Hamilton and Ian at Hamilton House.

Sophie and Caleb had decided that, given their dubious past, they would do better to start fresh in Europe. With his father's help, Caleb had made contact with a group of men in France who were investing in the construction of a railway there. "It's a whole new era of opportunity, Sophie," he told her one evening as they lay in bed.

Sophie smiled, placed a hand on her belly, where a child was in the first stages of development. "A whole new era for us," she reminded him.

It was the discovery of her pregnancy that had prompted Caleb to approach his father about the will that had torn Trevor from his father, and convinced the viscount to leave his holdings to his grandchildren. "I've always made my own way, Father, and I always will. I would that you consider our children before you consider me."

Lord Hamilton had smiled sadly at that, but had agreed. "I r-remember, you know," he had said, his hand on Caleb's shoulder. "I remember how p-proud I am of you. How proud I have always been."

Caleb had smiled, kissed his father's cheek. "I will never betray your pride," he had vowed.

And he never did.

Their destination was France, in the company of a very sullen Fabrice and Roland. As much as the two men adored Honorine—and even Lucie Cowplain—they had determined that they could not abide England, and had therefore agreed to look after Honorine's château. "This will make my Pierre very happy," Honorine had said of her grown son, laughing as she imagined how perturbed the stiff aristocrat would actually be with the arrival of the strange pair.

Lucie Cowplain returned to London. Honorine offered to send her along to France, too, but she refused. "I rather think not, mu'um," she said with a snort. "I hear there are many of the limp-wrists there."