Page 10

Nobbie stood beside Adam at the corner of the Duke of Harrington’s ballroom after telling his friend the whole sorry saga. “Enough about me and this damned watch. What’s happening in your world?”

“Hedwick is trying to marry his daughter off to anyone who’ll take her, poor girl. She’ll end up with someone unsuitable. Hedwick lost money on a Caribbean plantation and needs to get his daughter married before anyone knows.”

“How? Plantations are built on enslaved labour, the costs are minimal, it’s basically impossible to lose money.”

Adam sighed. “The rumour is that his agent cooked the books and stole everything.”

Nobbie coughed, rather than laugh. “Serves him right for owning a plantation.”

“Yes. I have no sympathy for him. I am concerned about his daughter who is young, pretty, and na?ve.”

“Like all the ton’s daughters.”

“Most, yeah. But most of them have decent fathers who care about their safety after they are married. Hedwick is increasing desperate.”

Nobbie turned to his friend. “It’s not your job to save every woman in the world. And if Hedwick has no money, there’s no money in it for us to save her.”

“I couldn’t save Rose, Nobbie. I have to try and stop that happening to everyone else.”

“None of us saved Rose.” Nobbie hated that their childhood friend had married the Earl of Miles-Wilkes, who had pushed her down the staircase, killing her.

“Maybe your friend Lord Lawndry will marry her. I hear you stole a dance with her from under his nose, and he was annoyed at you for it."

Nobbie swallowed. “My friend Lord Lawndry?” He was surprised at the phrasing, especially after telling Adam the whole reason they’d been spending time together was because of the watch. He didn’t think he’d given away too much.

“Friend, or? Was that a wistful tone I heard when you spoke about?” Adam paused, and Nobbie wished his friend didn’t know him quite so well.

“Adam.” He tried to convey that Adam should mind his bloody business.

“I’ve seen him at the King’s Book Club.”

“Have you? I would’ve thought the Soho Club was more his style.” Nobbie didn’t need the hint from Adam he’d guessed that Nobbie already knew that Lawndry was interested in men, just like Nobbie and his friends. The Soho Club had a broader audience than the King’s Book Club, and mentioning it might help muddy the waters, but no, Adam’s eyes twinkled as he grinned. Nobbie knew that look.

“You should come out with me more often, then you’d know who everyone is.”

“I have you and Earnest for all that gossip. If I’m to be the financial brains, I need to have a clean reputation. Charmers like you and Earnest can be more ... careless.”

“Careless, or fun?”

“Oh come on, Adam. You know what I mean.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to be less serious sometimes.”

Nobbie elbowed his friend. “Says the guy who wants to save every woman in London from terrible husbands.”

“Oh, look there is your Lord Lawndry.” Adam’s teasing tone shouldn’t have sent a spike of heat through Nobbie’s chest. He knew he should say that Lloyd wasn’t his, but he was too busy searching the room for him.

“Nobbie.” Adam’s whisper softened. “I think I need to meet him.”

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.

“It was anything but simple. For what it’s worth, the story begins in 1763, when my father fell in love with a sixteen-year-old village girl. He was twenty and unmarried.” That Winchester clarified his father’s age was good because Nobbie glanced at Adam who looked like he was going to hurt the Duke’s dead father for preying on a sixteen-year-old girl.

“Jane worked for our estate’s jeweller, Mr Hobart—” His Grace’s pronouncement made Lawndry gasp and Nobbie’s mouth filled with a bitter taste, like vinegar.

“Hobart?” Lawndry whispered but Nobbie waved his hand in the air.

“Carry on, your grace. I find myself fascinated by this tale of young love.” Sarcasm dripped off his tongue because he’d heard this story before. The young Duke had knocked up a village girl and they’d dumped the baby so that no one would know.

“Mr Gilbert. It is not a typical tale. Please indulge me.” Winchester waited until Nobbie nodded before continuing. “My grandmother decided that this potential love affair was completely unsuitable for a Duke’s son. She arranged for Jane to marry Mr Hobart and my father found himself engaged to an Earl’s daughter. Without Jane’s marriage, he might have ignored my grandmother, but she was too quick and clever for him. She paid for Mr and Mrs Hobart to move away, ostensibly to remove my father from temptation and make him focus on creating an heir for the Dukedom. Two years later, the first Hobart watches were taken to auction, and my father purchased them, knowing that his Jane had probably helped create them.” Winchester paused, and Nobbie tried to just breathe. Why was breathing so difficult? Every scrap of air burned. Jane. The small blanket he’d been left with had a J embroidered in the corner.

“My father’s first wife died of consumption without having children, and my father had finally come to terms with Jane being married, so he married again, and I was born in 1778 and then a sibling every two years after that. My mother, bless her soul, died in childbed eight years later. My father grieved for my mother, who he’d loved, and it was my grandmother who finally relented. He’d done his duty and she let him know that Jane’s husband had been lost at sea. My father visited her, and they conceived a baby. The boy was born in—” Winchester looked up at Nobbie. “—as you are aware, the boy was born in 1788. My father proposed to Jane, but just as they were making arrangements for the wedding, Mr Hobart returned to England. He hadn’t been lost at sea. He had delayed his visit to India to purchase jewels for their jewellery business, and he’d sent a letter on the ship he had planned to travel on. When the ship was lost at sea, Jane assumed he had been lost too, but it was only his letter.”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t pleased about arriving home to find his wife with a baby.” Adam summed it up succinctly.

“I don’t know. My father was heartbroken that Jane’s husband had reappeared, but he hoped that Mr Hobart would do the right thing and raise you as his own. He sent money for the boy every year and it wasn’t until Jane was on her death bed that she wrote a letter to him saying that she’d been forced to send the baby away, but she had left watch 79 with you, so that you’d know how to find out who your mother was, and that my father could find you.”

Nobbie wanted to thump Mr Hobart and he wanted to hug Jane and he wasn’t even sure what he felt about the previous Duke of Winchester. “We are half-brothers?”

“Yes. I didn’t know you existed until last year when my steward found the letter while looking for some other papers, and I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t know what to do about it.” His grace sat stiffly in his chair. “My father loved my mother, but he loved Jane more. She’d been his first love and his last love and it destroyed him when her husband reappeared. He locked his collection away, but every year, he would go to Sotheby’s for the auction. Most years, he bought something and then he’d come home and drink heavily before locking it up in the rest of the collection.”

“That must have been tough, growing up with a father like that?” Adam asked.

Winchester shrugged. “I was at school most of the time, so I was unaware of most of it. When he died six years ago, and I inherited, I had the collection valued thanks to the stellar efforts of Mr Milson here.”

“You’ve never married?” Adam asked and Nobbie almost grinned as Adam tried to figure out a business option for them. He needed the distraction.

“No. I saw what my father’s obsession with Jane did for my mother, and for my father’s first wife, who suffered through being married to a man who loved someone else. My mother at least enjoyed a few good years with my father when he knew Jane was married and he tried to get on with his own life as best he could. I probably need to marry for the sake of the estate, but I’m not sure I could do that to a woman.”

“What about a woman who needs marriage before the ton discovers her father is broke?”

Nobbie should stop Adam but he had far too much to think about and he needed time to contemplate it all.

“It would be a noble reason to marry.” Adam laid it on thickly and Nobbie would normally say something to counter that, to make the charm offensive from Adam appear less obvious.

“Lawndry, you have your answer now. Your grace, it was nice to meet you.” Nobbie needed fresh air. The last thing he heard as he bolted from the room was his name being called out in a questioning fashion.