Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Austin sat at the desk in Dominic’s study, staring at a ledger he had not truly seen for the better part of an hour. All the figures blurred together, and ink smudged beneath his fingers where he had traced the same line repeatedly.
Estates. Revenues. Titles.
All of it felt suddenly fragile, as though a single breath might scatter everything he had ever known. He pressed his palms flat against the polished wood and exhaled slowly.
Think, he told himself. There must be a way to fix this.
It was a clever idea for his blackmailer to add the birth registration in the article. If only Austin knew where his original birth registration was, but his father hid the documents away in his study, and Austin was not allowed to go back to the estate until the courts ordered him to.
A knock sounded at the door suddenly. Austin pinched the bridge of his nose as his frustration built.
What is it now?
“Enter,” Austin grunted without looking up.
Ryan, the footman, stepped inside. His posture was stiff, and his expression uneasy. “Your Grace… pardon the interruption.”
Austin lifted his brow at once. “What is it?”
“There is a visitor.”
Austin frowned. Nobody was aware of their new location because they kept it discreet. “A visitor?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Austin rose slowly from his chair. “But no one knows where we are.”
Ryan glanced over his shoulder, then back again, and he spoke softly. “He… asked for you by name.”
“Speak up,” Austin snapped. “Who is it?”
Ryan swallowed as his eyes darted nervously towards Austin’s. “Your Grace, the man claims to be… your stepbrother.”
The room seemed to tilt as Austin processed this information.
He eventually let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do not be a fool, Ryan. You know very well that I have no siblings.”
Ryan nodded quickly. “Yes, Your Grace. I said as much. But he insisted. He said that he has proof.”
Anger flared sharply and suddenly, Austin clenched his fists at his side. He had no time for jests, and yet some brave fool chose to challenge him now. “Proof of what?”
Ryan shifted his weight. “He did not say, Your Grace. Only that you would understand once you saw him.”
Austin stared at the door as his mind raced.
A stepbrother?
Austin feared it may be a trap, but even so, if it was the blackmailer, he would finally catch him. “Bring him in,” Austin said at last.
Ryan hesitated. “Your Grace—”
“Now,” he demanded.
Ryan bowed and hurried out of the study.
Austin paced the length of the room, his boots striking the floor in sharp, restless steps.
Who the devil could this be?
The door opened again before his thoughts overtook him.
Ryan returned, followed by a man Austin had never seen before.
“Hello, brother,” the stranger said with a thick French accent.
Austin froze.
The resemblance to his father struck him like a blow. He had the same dark hair, though thinner and unkempt. He had the same sharp cheekbones, hollowed by hardship, and familiar dark eyes with a coldness that seeped into Austin’s bones.
“Ryan,” Austin said quietly, “wait outside.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Ryan bowed reluctantly and withdrew, closing the door behind him and leaving Austin alone with the stranger.
Austin studied him. “Who are you? Really?”
The man smiled slowly and unpleasantly. “My name is Leonard Delves.”
“My father has never mentioned you before.” Austin eyed him suspiciously.
“He is my true father, and not yours.” Leonard sneered.
“And how did you find me?” Austin demanded, ignoring his last remark.
Leonard laughed, and the sound echoed around them. “You made it very easy, Austin.”
“Address me properly,” Austin commanded coldly. “You will call me Your Grace.”
Leonard scoffed. “I will never call you by a title you do not deserve.”
Austin’s jaw tightened. The man had the audacity to come and insult him.
“How did you find me?” he repeated the question more sternly.
Leonard began to pace the study confidently. He looked around the room, pausing at portraits and smirking. Austin’s patience grew thin.
“You did not offer me a drink,” he said without looking in Austin’s direction.
“I do not offer a drink to strangers who refuse to answer my questions.” Austin’s jaw ticked.
Leonard turned towards him, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the study.
“Oh, but I am not a stranger. I am your stepbrother.”
Austin straightened his shoulders. He walked to the nearest cabinet and poured himself a brandy without offering one to Leonard.
“I have no brothers or sisters.” He took a sip, glaring at the man over the rim of his glass.
Leonard laughed humorlessly. “Or so you believe. You were quite famous in Paris,” Leonard said lightly. “Like my father.”
Austin set the glass down heavily onto the oak table.
“And not very discreet either,” Leonard continued.
Austin’s pulse quickened as realization slowly dawned on him.
“Why is a Frenchman in London?” he asked.
Leonard’s smile widened. “Because it was time to meet you.”
“Explain yourself, and stop being vague.” Austin felt his anger rise as the man began pacing again.
“It makes sense that my father never spoke of me.”
Austin said nothing.
“My mother was a maid,” Leonard continued.
“A simple French maid. She loved my father, and he…he used her. When she sent word that she was pregnant, she never heard from him again. Now I know it was because of your mother and the bastard she carried around the same time my mother was pregnant with me.”
Austin felt a dull ache settle in his chest; he knew what it was like to be abandoned by his father.
“My mother, Mary-Ann, worked house after house to feed me,” Leonard went on as he stared at a family portrait of Dominic, Selina, and their children. Austin felt a deep sense of uneasiness. “Because of all her hard work, she aged before her time. And then she died.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Austin said and he genuinely was sorry as he thought about his own mother.
Leonard snorted, his head snapped towards Austin and pure hatred reflected in his eyes. “I do not need your pity!” he hissed.
“It is not pity,” Austin said calmly. “My words come from a place of understanding.”
“Ha! I suppose you do understand. But I made a promise to my mother before she died. I promised her that I would take my rightful place as the true Duke of Windemere.” Leonard smirked and Austin felt his blood go cold.
“You are the blackmailer.” It was not a question.
Leonard laughed triumphantly, it was a humorless sound that gave Austin the answer he needed.
“I had some help, of course.” Leonard squared his shoulders proudly.
Austin stilled. He was sure that there were two. Was the other blackmailer in the house with them? He thought about Deena who was working in the drawing room alone and away from him. His jaw clenched.
“Do not worry. She is not with me.” Leonard read his mind.
“Who is she?” Austin demanded. “And did you blackmail my wife as well?”
Leonard’s eyes gleamed. “But of course it was me.”
Austin’s blood ran cold.
“You see, I worked as a gardener at a convent. That is what real men do. They work and do not sit around in their grand houses attending lavish balls.” Leonard spoke as if he were addressing himself to a child. “That is where I saw her. Your wife helped a certain lady escape to meet a man.”
Austin forced himself to remain calm as all the pieces fell into place.
“I grew up with those nuns,” Leonard said. “One of them was my closest ally, and she gave me all the information I needed about Lady Deena and her friend. It is this very ally who agreed to write letters to Lady Deena. But I am the one who wrote to you.”
Austin’s hands curled into fists. He leaned in. The only barrier between them was an oak table, and he was grateful for it.
“My wife did not deserve that,” he growled.
Leonard shrugged nonchalantly. “None of you deserves mercy.”
“You dare speak of deserving?” Austin snapped. “You dare—”
“You ruin lives!” Leonard interrupted. “You and your precious wife hurt people. And you walk away untouched because of your titles.”
“You do not know Deena or me,” Austin said fiercely.
“I know enough to take you down,” Leonard sneered. “Your wife. And your mother. All of you are scum!”
“Do not speak of my mother!” Austin growled.
Leonard scoffed. “Your mother bore another man’s child, and yet she lived a good life while my mother suffered.”
“She endured the same pain as your mother,” Austin shot back. “The same betrayal and abandonment.”
Leonard’s eyes flashed indignantly. “And yet through it all, you and your mother had comfort, while we had nothing at all.”
Austin understood his anger and pain. If he knew about them, he would have helped, but his father never spoke about anything or anyone else. And despite it all, Leonard’s actions proved that he did not want peace.
“What do you gain by ruining me?” Austin demanded. “You surely will not gain the title because you are not the heir.”
Leonard leered. “I want justice. For my mother. For myself. And for every bastard abandoned by entitled fathers of the ton.”
“Yes, that is all well,” Austin said drily. “But what do you want from me?”
Leonard stilled for a moment before he reached into his pocket and handed a scroll to Austin. Austin grabbed it out of his hand and opened it. It was a birth registration, claiming that Leonard was the true son of Anthony Delves, the Duke of Windemere. Austin let out a bark of laughter.
“No one would believe this nonsense!”
“Write to the courts.” Leonard did not smile this time. “Declare that you are not the rightful heir to the Windemere estate. That you are merely the product of your mother’s illicit affair. That is what I want from you.”
“And if I choose not to?” Austin raised a brow at him.
Leonard stalked towards him and dropped his voice.
“Then I will publish what comes next. About your wife and her illicit affair in a certain library. I already have the gentleman on board. I am sure that the ton will find it shocking to hear that she threw herself willingly at a man on her first debut. How ruinous would it be for her and her family?”
Rage surged through Austin, hot and blinding.
He would make sure to visit Lord Haverford himself.
But for now, he had one rogue to deal with already.
He grabbed Leonard’s collar, almost pulling him across the table.
The glass of brandy shattered on the ground.
Leonard chuckled, but his fear was plain across his face.
“You dare come into my family’s house and threaten me?” he growled.
“You can’t hurt me,” Leonard said, though his unsteady voice betrayed his fear. “It will ruin you even further if you do.”
“Your Grace!” Austin did not hear Ryan enter the study. He looked up and saw the footman reach for a pistol.
“That is not necessary, Ryan.”
“Should I send word for help?” the footman asked, panic-stricken.
“No. We are done here.”
Austin looked down at his so-called stepbrother. “I am disgusted by you and the path you chose. Your mother would not be proud.” He let go of him.
“You will pay for that!” Leonard shouted as he scrambled to his feet. “You have one day before I take action—”
Leonard rambled on, but Austin’s eyes were fixed behind him. Deena stood in the doorway behind Ryan. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with fear and understanding.
How long has she been standing there? What did she hear?
He did not call to her in fear that Leonard would see her. But to his surprise and disappointment, Deena turned and disappeared down the corridor towards the front door.
Austin’s heart lurched violently when he realized what she was doing.
She is abandoning me.
Deena slipped through the side entrance of Windemere House just as the bells of a nearby church struck the hour.
The estate loomed around her, grand and hushed, its corridors filled with a stillness that felt almost haunted.
Her pulse quickened, but her steps did not falter until a soft voice echoed in the silence.
“Your Grace?”
Deena turned to find Mrs. Mildred standing a few paces behind her, hands folded neatly at her waist. The lady’s maid’s lined face held concern rather than challenge.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Mrs. Mildred said gently, “but you should not be here. We were told…to keep the house closed.”
Deena inclined her head, acknowledging the woman’s courtesy, but she did not have time to argue.
“I forgot something, and I need it urgently,” she said simply as she continued forward.
“But, Your Grace,” Mrs. Mildred tried again, hurrying after her, “please understand. I do not wish to be unkind. It is only that the household has been unsettled, and the servants are frightened.”
Deena stopped.
She turned slowly, meeting Mrs. Mildred’s worried gaze. “Frightened of what?”
Mrs. Mildred hesitated. “Of what people are saying. Of what has been printed.”
Several servants appeared and had paused nearby, pretending to busy themselves while listening closely to their conversation.
Deena’s voice sharpened, though it did not rise. “If any of you doubt your Duke so easily, then you should never have taken his wages. If ink on a page is enough to shake your loyalty, then you were never loyal at all.”
The servants exchanged glances, and some lowered their eyes shamefully.
Mrs. Mildred’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I never doubted him,” she said quietly. “Not for a moment.”
“Then stand by him,” Deena replied. “All of you.”
Silence followed.
At last, Mrs. Mildred stepped aside. “You may pass, Your Grace.”
Deena softened with gratefulness. “Thank you, Mrs. Mildred. I know this is difficult for all of us. I won’t be long, I swear.”
The housemaid nodded. “I hope you find what you are looking for.”
Deena did not answer. She moved swiftly through the familiar corridors. Her destination was clear, and she had to beat the setting sun or Austin, and her entire family was doomed.
The late Duke’s study lay exactly as it had been left. Deena closed the door behind her and went straight to the desk. She searched every drawer, her fingers skimming over ledgers, letters, and forgotten accounts.
“Where is it?” she hissed under her breath.
When she found nothing, she moved to the cabinets, then the shelves, pulling down books and scanning margins. Her resolve began to waver.
“Where did I leave it?” she whispered to herself.
Time slipped away, and her chest tightened as doubt crept in. Then she noticed it, a faint seam along the bottom drawer. Her breath caught as she pried open the drawer.
“There you are,” she breathed.
She gathered the leather-bound notebook where she had placed the letter to her chest, and her strength flooded back into her limbs.
Austin will not fall.
Not while she still stood.