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“Yes, yes!” Ernest shook a fist in the air, his enthusiasm contagious. “We have our letter from Dr. Smith, and we have our champion, and a fine one at that.” He kept waving the document signed by Lord Naylor after Maddie and Hector had returned from the lord captain’s house.

Maddie couldn’t believe it. Thanks to Lord Naylor’s intervention, Hector was about to become the Duke of Blackburn. Sitting next to her, Hector grinned as if he couldn’t believe it either.

“Your brother and your mother would be so proud of you.” She squeezed his hand. A sob remained lodged in her throat as his eyes misted.

“Will I be a good duke though?” he whispered. “Will I really make them proud?”

“You’ll be the best,” Ernest said before Maddie could reply. He grabbed Hector’s shoulders and shook him. “Now we have to talk to your cousin, Your Grace. Let’s go.”

“Now?” Maddie and Hector asked together.

Ernest snatched his hat and leather bag. “No time like the present.”

The trip on the carriage was a frantic affair. Ernest couldn’t remain still and kept tapping his feet or shaking his fists. Hector jolted at every noise, and she wondered if panic would seize him again.

When they arrived, Ernest was the first to jump out of the carriage, singing The Bonny Bunch of Roses . Maddie couldn’t help but smile at his great voice.

Ernest knocked on the door, still humming.

The door swung inwards, revealing Jones, the butler. “May I help you?”

“We must see Quentin Wentworth immediately,” he said before the butler could even say good afternoon.

Their enthusiasm doused after they’d waited twenty minutes in the parlour. Apparently, his grace had to finish getting dressed and shaven, even though it was almost noon. In the parlour with Ernest’s nervous company, Hector’s silence, and the ugly painting, time slowed down to a crawl.

Finally, his cousin came into the sitting room with measured steps. The smile he flashed was strained and did nothing to ease the tension tightening his features.

“Hector, Miss Debenham, and Merriweather. What a charming trio.” He barely finished the sentence before Ernest slammed the documents on the low table with an air of triumph.

“Ha! It’s done. Lord Hector Wentworth is now the Duke of Blackburn,” Ernest said. “You may leave the premises immediately, thank you. Shut the door behind you.”

Maddie wasn’t an expert, but she didn’t believe that was the right procedure. Besides, Quentin Wentworth’s air of superiority didn’t falter. He cast a glance at the documents and skimmed them, nodding.

“I see. Lord Naylor. How generous of him to be Hector’s champion. Oh, and dear Dr. Smith had a change of heart. I’m not surprised. He’s such a coward.” He gestured at the armchairs and sofa. “Please take a seat.”

Ernest’s enthusiasm faded a little. Likely, he’d expected a more dramatic response from the ex-duke. He sat on the armchair while Maddie took the sofa and Hector remained standing.

“It’s official.” Ernest tapped the documents. “His Grace wishes you should leave the house immediately, resign your position at the House of Lords, and even return all the family’s belongings you have used in the past years.”

Hector tensed.

Quentin slouched back in his armchair. “I admire your enthusiasm, Merriweather, but I’m afraid I’m not going anywhere.”

“It is done.” Ernest gritted his teeth. “Soon, even the queen.”

Blackburn sighed. “This conversation won’t be an easy one.”

“What conversation?” Hector said. “Everything is done. I will finally restore my family’s factory to its former glory and take care of the labourers.”

“Bloody labourers.” Quentin tugged at the cuffs of his shirt.

“The problem is that I have no intention of being cast aside so that a simpleton can play the good Samaritan with those workers. You scared Dr. Smith. See, I know Smith. I play cards with him regularly. I was afraid he might get scared. But I have, shall we call it, taken precautions.”

She pressed her lips and bit down a comment about them not caring about his precautions.

Ernest chuckled. “We can involve the police. You can leave quietly or noisily. Your choice.”

“But see…” Quentin rummaged through his pockets and produced a brown envelope. He exhaled as if he were about to do something he didn’t want to. “I happen to know something that will change everything. Hector must forget about his title and leave me alone.”

“No.” Maddie’s voice rose. “Hector will be a better duke than you are because he knows how to be compassionate. Becoming the Duke of Blackburn is his birth right.”

“Indeed. I’m glad you mentioned his compassion because it’ll play a role in what I’m going to show you.” He handed her the envelope. “This is for your eyes only, Miss Debenham. I’m being a gentleman and let you see the content of this envelope first.”

Maddie hesitated before taking the envelope. When she opened it, she couldn’t understand what the matter was. The envelope contained a few pictures. Ernest craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the picture, but Quentin chided him.

“Now, now, Mr. Merriweather. Give the lady a moment of privacy, will you? I’m talking in your interest as well.”

Maddie skimmed the pictures. Why would she care about the pictures of a scantily dressed lady?

A lady who was in the company of two equally scantily dressed gentlemen and who pleasured her in different manners?

Why would she—her throat clenched, and her pulse drummed in her ears when she studied the woman’s face, going past the wig and makeup.

Good Lord. It was Verity with two men Maddie didn’t recognise.

Not that it mattered. Verity lay on a plush bed surrounded by cushions, half-naked and a coquettish smile on her painted lips.

In the pictures, her face was easily recognisable, even though she was in, er, different poses.

Maddie swallowed past the lump crawling in her throat. “How did you get these?”

“What are these ?” Ernest asked, impatience radiating from him in waves.

Hector didn’t say anything.

Quentin leant closer. “The right question is, what will happen when he sees these pictures?”

“He who? What is going on?” Ernest stomped a fist on the armrest.

Maddie released a shaky breath, hiding the pictures from view.

“The pictures are personal and involve me.” She wasn’t going to offer any further explanations, especially since she needed to talk to Verity first. “They’re compromising pictures.

” She cast a glance at Hector who squeezed her shoulder.

Not a trace of reproach tightened his features.

Only love came out of him. One of the many reasons she loved him.

Tarnation. Maddie’s hands shook. Verity’s life would be ruined.

She loved Ernest dearly, and if he broke the engagement because of those pictures and the rumour spread, no one would want to be near her.

The scandal would affect the whole family.

Even Maddie would become an outcast. Her father’s business would suffer.

But Verity’s life worried her more. She’d never recover from something so scandalous.

Ernest paled. “Maddie, surely you understand the importance of Lord Hector regaining his title. The future of many families is at risk. Your reputation?—”

“Ernest.” Hector’s nostrils flared. “Perhaps I should decide with Maddie.”

Ernest shot to his feet. “No, dammit! I’ve waited years to take Quentin Wentworth down and see him punished for the miserable way he treats his employees.

” He pointed a finger at Hector’s cousin.

“Maddie, I love you like a sister, but I can’t let him continue hurting people, my people.

” He beat a fist against his chest. “Because of a scandal that will be forgotten in a matter of weeks. I can help you get past the scandal. I promise.”

Maddie’s bottom lip quivered as a sob threatened to break free.

Ernest was insensitive but had a good point.

It was the dilemma they’d dealt with about Frances, only worse.

She’d seen the labourers. So many families lived in poverty, and Hector would help them.

He would keep the children safe. But Verity was her sister.

She didn’t deserve to be ruined for life.

If it were only Maddie, then maybe she would have agreed with Ernest, but Verity was another matter.

“Maddie loves her family deeply, and a scandal would affect them.” Hector touched Maddie’s trembling shoulder. “We need to discuss this.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Ernest clenched his fists. “It’s your duty to become a duke. You cannot leave those people in the hands of a heartless man.”

“Ah, the Irish. Such passionate people.” Quentin shrugged. “You can keep the pictures, Miss Debenham. I have the originals.” He rose from the chair, a smug smile on his face. “I expect Hector to officially renounce his title by tomorrow. Have a nice day, all of you.”