Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The knock at the door was soft and entirely unexpected for the hour of the evening.
Seraphina did not immediately rise from the armchair she had dragged into the corner of the bay window.
The rain outside was beating softly against the tall diamond-leaded panes, misting the glass with a film of condensation that blurred the shapes of the gardens below.
In her lap lay a dense treatise on agricultural drainage systems, the ink fading on pages she had reread twice without absorbing a single sentence.
Without turning her head from the glass, Seraphina turned a page of her book. “You may enter.”
A long beat of silence stretched through the doorway.
The door creaked open, admitting a slice of warm sconce-light from the corridor before clicking softly shut again. Then came the familiar click of boot heels against the rug, moving unhurriedly across the room.
“Before you ask, no, I have not torn apart any more of your rare editions, Your Grace. Your library is perfectly intact.”
William did not answer. He bypassed the center of the room entirely, drawing closer to the bay window where she sat.
He stopped just short of the window corner, resting his shoulder lightly against the tall carved molding of the wall. He kept his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets.
Seraphina glanced up sideways over the edge of her volume.
The intimate setting of her bedchamber only underscored how different he looked tonight.
He had discarded his formal neckcloth somewhere down the hallways of the estate; the collar of his white linen shirt sat open at his throat, exposing the line of his collarbone.
She hated how she always noticed his chest whenever it was exposed. Always, without fail. But she also noticed that he looked thoroughly worn down. Whatever business had taken him away from the estate and kept him brooding in his study had waned him.
He looked down at her, his eyes searching her face in the light of the single oil lamp she had lit on the side table. For a long moment, the only sound between them was the drum of rain against the windowpane.
“I have an update,” he said softly.
The teasing edge in Seraphina’s chest evaporated instantly. His tone was too flat, too careful, completely stripped of the cutting sarcasm he usually employed when sparring with her.
She closed the treatise, setting it aside on the small table beside her cup of cooling tea. She folded her hands in her lap, turning her body slightly in the chair to give him her complete, undivided attention.
“Is it about the letters?” she asked.
“In a sense,” William said. He did not elaborate further just yet. Instead, his gaze drifted away from her, turning toward the doorway. “You look tired. Did Alice wear you out?”
“I could say the same thing about you,” she answered.
“She is doing better. Over the last few days, the improvement has been marked. She is far calmer in the mornings when she comes into the library to sit while I write. She sleeps through the night much more often now, and even when a nightmare does take hold, she settles again quickly once she hears the sound of a voice.”
William’s jaw tightened subtly. A faint, barely perceptible shift in his shoulders suggested a wave of profound relief washing through him, though he kept his back rigid against the wall. He stared at the crack of light in the doorway for several seconds before looking back down at Seraphina.
“I am glad to hear it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I owe you a debt for that, Seraphina. A considerable one.”
“You owe me nothing,” she replied simply.
Seraphina held his gaze, waiting. There was a question that had been sitting at the back of her mind for days now, floating beneath every observation she made. She wasn’t entirely sure of the connection between Alice and William.
They looked too much alike, but he has never once called her his daughter, and she did not want to pry by asking the staff what they knew.
Now, surrounded by the intimacy of her private rooms, the pieces refused to fit into any logical ledger she knew how to keep.
“Your Grace,” she said. “Is Alice your daughter?”
The silence in the bedchamber stretched out instantly, taut and thick enough to weigh upon the air.
“I will understand if you do not want to say,” she continued. “I was merely curious.”
William did not startle. He did not blink.
But the line between his brows deepened, and he shifted his weight off the molding, stepping away from the window alcove.
He walked toward her bed behind her, and sat.
Seraphina rose too, walked over and sat by his side, but not close enough that they were in each other’s space.
The silence went on for so long... ten seconds, twenty, thirty, that Seraphina began to wonder if he intended to politely excuse himself, to retreat back behind the impenetrable wall of his title and leave her in the dark.
When he finally turned to her, she held her breath.
“No,” he said quietly. “She is not.”
Seraphina did not interrupt. She did not gasp, nor did she lean forward in dramatic surprise. She simply kept her hands loosely folded in her lap, waiting.
“She is my half-sister,” William said. “My father’s child.
The late duke was an unrepentant rake. He tore through half of London for decades without a second thought, leaving a trail of ruined reputations, unpaid debts, and broken promises in his wake.
Truthfully, Seraphina, I would not be at all surprised if I had three or four more half-brothers or half-sisters scattered across the kingdom that I know nothing about. ”
He took a slow breath, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck, massaging the muscle at the base of his skull before he continued.
“A few months ago, I received word from a small orphan asylum,” William continued. “Alice had been found. She carried no luggage, no name on her linens, and not a single shilling to her name. All she had was a letter addressed to the Duke of Norwyn.”
He stopped to look directly into Seraphina’s eyes.
“Apparently, years ago, the late Duke had given his seal to one of his mistresses,” William explained.
“He had pledged to her that if she ever found herself in desperate straits, if she ever needed assistance for the child, she was to write to him, and his family would honor the obligation. When the woman passed away, she left Alice with that letter. The managers at the orphan asylum saw the crest on the wax seal and immediately contacted me.”
“I later learned her mother had been forced to abandon her at that place only because she was terribly ill,” William continued. “She had no money, living in squalor after being ruined by my father, and she was simply too sick to care for the child any longer.”
Seraphina watched him closely, the truth hanging heavily in the room. “What of Alice herself? What do you think happened to make her... the way she is now?”
William shook his head slowly, a shadow crossing his features.
“I truly do not know. When I brought her here, I asked her. I tried to understand what she had endured, but she refuses to utter a word about it. Whatever she went through before she arrived at my gates... it broke something inside her. She has had a remarkably rough life so far. I only hope that, in time, she can have a better life here. A real life.”
Seraphina stared at him, feeling a warmth bloom in her chest.
There was no distance in the way he spoke of the girl.
He did not view Alice as an unwelcome burden, a stranger’s child thrust upon his household, or a stain to be managed.
He spoke of her with total, unhesitating responsibility, a protective devotion that few men in his position would ever dream of offering to an illegitimate child.
“That is noble, Your Grace,” she said.
“Cleaning up after my father is hardly a new endeavor for me,” William added, a wry line touching the corner of his mouth.
“Even before he passed, I was effectively managing the estate and acting in his stead. In a way, taking on his unfinished obligations is something I am already well accustomed to.”
“I suppose we shall simply have to figure it out as we go,” Seraphina said softly. “I will make it my personal project to see that she finds her footing again. That was the end of our bargain, was it not?”
William’s expression softened. “If anyone can bring her out of her shell, Seraphina, I suspect it is you. You’ll probably talk her out of it.”
He paused, clearing his throat as his tone shifted. “Speaking of bargains and arrangements... that brings me to my update.”
Seraphina straightened in her armchair, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You found something?”
“We did. Anthony and I,” William said, turning to face her “We spent the last week traveling from one estate to the next, speaking with the caretakers, checking on the inventories, and ensuring the grounds were secure. We only made a breakthrough at one of our cottages. The caretakers there had good information for us.”
He turned his head to meet her gaze.
“Based on what Mr. and Mrs. Higgs shared, along with the paper stock and the handwriting on those notes, we are almost certainly looking at a woman of high peerage,” William explained.
“Someone who had intimate access to my father’s life and holdings.
Mr. Higgs promised he would personally go through the cottage records to track down the precise name, so Anthony and I are currently waiting on his update. ”
Seraphina’s brows drew together as she absorbed the news. “So you’re telling me your family, or at least someone tied directly to your father, is behind this?”
“It seems highly likely that the culprit is one of my father’s former lovers,” William said bluntly. “A woman of noble birth.”
Seraphina leaned back slightly, her mind racing as she tried to piece the disparate threads together. A thick fog of confusion settled over her.
“I do not understand the correlation,” Seraphina said aloud, looking across the mattress at him with a troubled frown. “What could a former mistress of your father possibly want with you and me? Why use your family crest to send me letters? Was it so that I would look in the wrong direction?”
William shifted on the bed. “It is possible,” he explained. “Might be a coincidence as well, or it might be deliberate. I think it is deliberate, but Anthony thinks it’s just someone who doesn’t want to be found; hence they try to make it seem like the letters are coming from me.”
“But why you specifically?” she asked. “She could have just... not sent it with a seal. Why hide the crest in the paper? Did she think I would not find it, or did she want me to find it? To seek you out?”
“You do not need to wrap your head around that just yet,” William said quietly.
“You are not the one who needs to carry the weight of this investigation. Anthony and I will handle the information from Mr. Higgs and figure out the missing link. Your only task is to play your part at my side, keep Alice safe, and let me do the worrying.”
Seraphina looked across the small divide of mattress into his eyes, taking a slow, grounding breath. The logical part of her hated unanswered equations, but his promise offered an undeniable sense of security.
“All right,” she agreed softly. “I will hold you to that.”
In the dusk of her bedchamber, with the rain tapping against the glass and the fire crackling low in the grate, the space between them felt suddenly, overwhelmingly small.
For several long seconds, neither of them moved.
Then, as if suddenly realizing how long he had been staring, William blinked. A faint, subtle flush touched the top of his cheekbones, and he straightened his spine instantly. He deliberately cleared his throat as he rose to his feet.
“Right,” he said brusquely, his voice instantly shifting gears. “Moving on to practical matters. We need to begin appearing in public. We must attend the upcoming social season, specifically the major balls in town over the coming weeks.”
Seraphina blinked, thrown completely off balance by the sudden, jarring turn in the conversation. She shot up to her feet too. “The balls? Why on earth would we spend our evenings in crowded ballrooms when there are actual, pressing matters to resolve?”
“Because whoever is sending you those letters is operating under the assumption that you are isolated,” William explained.
“They are targeting a woman they believe is vulnerable, writing alone without immediate protection. If they see that you are no longer isolated, if they see you flanked by my title, integrated into high society at my side, it changes their calculus entirely. It forces them either to make a reckless mistake and act prematurely, or to withdraw their threats altogether.”
Seraphina frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as she considered his words. She let her shoulders drop, staring into the corner of the room.
“That is true. I haven’t received a single letter in weeks,” she admitted quietly.
“You consider that a relief?”
“No,” she said, looking up at him. “Silence from someone who is threatening you can’t be peace. It usually means they are watching. It means they are waiting for an opening.”
“Precisely,” William said, his eyes narrowing. “Which is why we do not give them an opening. We go to the balls. We demonstrate an absolute, unshakable united front before the entire town. This is the end of my own bargain, Seraphina. Play along.”
“Very well,” she said at last, bringing her hands to her hips. “I agree with the strategy. It is sound. There is, however, one minor, tactical flaw in your plan.”
William raised an eyebrow. “What tactical flaw would that be?”
“I do not know how to dance.”
Seraphina braced herself, her breath catching slightly in her throat. Deep down, she had known this moment would inevitably come. Ever since she had agreed to step into his world, she had dreaded the day she would have to admit the reality of her upbringing to someone like him.
She held her breath, half-expecting a flash of annoyance, a weary sigh, or at least a sharp reprimand for failing to possess the most fundamental skill required of a Duchess.
William tilted his head, his eyes wide as his lips parted.
“What?” he asked mildly.