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Chapter Fifteen

“How dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow."

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

T he following day found Annabel in the library. She had read and reread the entry in the old copy of Debrett’s again and again. An hour must have passed with her eyes glued to the page in front of her. She was struggling to comprehend the words she read, a bedlam of implications unfurling in every direction as her mind tried to come to terms with the information.

She had just begun to read Debrett’s from the beginning, quite amused at first how the publisher of the venerated texts had not seen fit to update their printing plates; the antiquated text used old typefaces with ‘f’ sprinkled throughout to stand in for the soft ‘s’ sounds.

About fifty pages into the first volume, she had stumbled upon an entry that she wished she could now unread. She had a terrible feeling of disquiet as she stared at the entry and wished she, indeed, had the ability to return in time and go for that walk she had considered earlier in the morning rather than having chosen to read in the library.

Annabel tried to push her uneasiness aside, but it pushed right back and refused to be ignored. If Philip had married her out of revenge, how would he feel when he discovered there may not have been any revenge to take? How would it change the dynamics of their fledgling marriage if he knew Richard was innocent of the allegations that he had flung at his cousin three years earlier?

Annabel read the entry again.

EDWARD MARLEY, Earl of ROWbrIDGE, and Viscount of MARLEY … by whom he had iffue 1.—Richard, Viscount Marley, born March 27, 1796 2.—Jane, born March 27, 1796 …

The key part of the entry that Annabel was having difficulty assimilating was that Jane Marley … was a twin? And her brother’s name was … Richard? Annabel recollected Philip’s account of his late wife’s illness and death. Could the duchess have been calling for her twin in her state of delirium? But, if that was the case, would Philip not be aware that Jane could have been calling for Richard Marley and not Richard Balfour?

Stuff! This cannot be possible!

Where was this Richard Marley?

Why had Philip not factored the brother into the events that unfolded?

Annabel leafed through the volume to the front page, desperate for an explanation.

Just how old was this copy of Debrett’s?

1802?

Why was she reading a copy of Debrett’s that was sixteen years out of date?

What had happened to Richard Marley?

If Saunton had not betrayed Philip, what did this mean for her marriage?

Annabel stood in a flurry of skirts, almost upsetting the pile of books stacked on the long desk. She needed to clear her head. It felt like her entire life—her very hope of future happiness—was evaporating. It was time for a brisk walk.

* * *

The walk had failed to calm her nerves as much as she had hoped. She stood in the corridor wringing her hands, working up her courage. Squaring her shoulders, she pasted on what she hoped was a relaxed smile and walked up to the study door.

“Philip?”

Philip looked up from his work. Sunlight lit his hair into a glorious crown of blond flames, and he appeared bemused as he smiled at her. “Yes, sweet? Are you recovered from all our travel over the last few days?”

“Yes, I am most glad to be home.” Annabel winced in her head while keeping the smile pasted on. Bosh, most glad? “I was wondering if you had ordered a more recent edition of Debrett’s Peerage ? It’s just that … the copy in the library … it was published in 1802 …” Annabel was afraid she was mumbling in her attempt to be nonchalant.

Philip looked thoughtful, his mind still on his work, she imagined. “I think we have received a delivery of books. Clinton mentioned something about a crate from Hatchards, which is where my man of business usually fulfills my requests, so it could very well be in that crate. Shall I locate it for you?”

Annabel shook her head. “No need. I will find Clinton to arrange for the books to be brought to the library. I was …” She stopped, uncertain how to continue.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to thank you for patching things up with the baron. Family ties are important. One has to do one’s best to maintain them, even when said family member is a trial,” she quipped, doing her best to appear relaxed. “Do you maintain any acquaintanceship with your late wife’s family?”

“The late duchess? No. Her father was not close with her. We occasionally see each other at Westminster or one of our London clubs and share a drink, but not much more than that. Her mother passed away young, and the earl’s heir presumptive is—was—is her uncle. It was her aunt and uncle who hosted her for the Season when I met her, and I am not aware of any other family members other than their young children, whom I never met. I probably know the uncle better than her father.”

“So, no other immediate family?”

“Not that I am aware. As I mentioned, she was rather unworldly, having spent most of her time away at a tiny finishing school somewhere up north. Why do you ask?”

Annabel shifted from foot to foot before repressing any further visible agitation. “Oh, the situation with the baron just made me think of family and the ties that bind us. I wondered if you had any ties that I should be aware of, as I do my duchess studies.”

He laughed. “Duchess studies, I like that. And, no, the only ties you need to worry about are my brother and avoiding my dear cousin, Richard. There is Richard’s brother to think of, I guess. Have you met Peregrine Balfour?”

She shook her head. It was her understanding that Perry was a rake, as the late Earl of Saunton had been reputed to be. The Saunton apples had not fallen far from that tree, apparently. “As far as I know, Perry does not deign to visit the country. Since the baron has never allowed me out of the county, our paths have never crossed.”

“Yes, well, you may not be missing much. Perry is a skirt-chaser of some renown and grim company to boot. Richard is by far the more charming of the two. I find the Honorable Mr. Peregrine Balfour too arrogant for my taste. And I doubt he will ever settle down, since he has no heir to concern himself with while living for the pleasures of the moment, so no family responsibilities to worry about. Shall we take a ride together later today? I need to clear my head once I have completed this work.”

Annabel nodded, and they made plans, but her mind was racing with other thoughts. Philip did not appear to be aware of Lord Richard Marley, and he had mentioned the Earl of Rowbridge’s younger brother was the heir. She was frightened, restraining herself from wiping her sweating palms, lest Philip notice her distress.

What would happen to them if he learned of Richard Marley and discovered he had made a mistake accusing Richard Balfour?

* * *

Annabel sat at the library desk, staring out the windows at the afternoon sky. She wished she was out there riding in the parklands with her handsome husband rather than sitting here with the most recent edition of Debrett’s Peerage open before her. Apparently, they had updated their typefaces since the earlier edition she had studied. As she had suspected, she had found the entry she knew she would find.

EDWARD MARLEY, Earl of ROWbrIDGE, and Viscount of MARLEY … by whom he had issue 1.—Richard, born March 27, 1796, and died May 15, 1806. 2.—Jane, born March 27, 1796, and died October 9, 1815 …

Jane and her twin would have been only ten years old when the young boy died. It was probable that they had been close, as their mother had passed in 1803, and Philip had mentioned the earl had not spent time with his daughter. Being ill and delirious, the late duchess could well have pleaded for the one person she had shared a genuine bond with. Her brother and twin, Richard Marley.

Annabel dropped her head into her folded arms, feeling wretched, but quickly straightened when she heard Mary arrive with the tea tray. She watched the maid cross the room toward her, with her impressive mane of deep red hair tamed into a tight coiffure at the base of her skull.

“Mary?”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“How long did you serve in the Marley household?”

Mary looked uneasy as she hesitated, placing the tea tray down on the long desk Annabel had made her own. “I started when I was twelve and then came with Her Grace when she married. About thirteen years, I guess.”

“You knew her when she was a child?”

Mary cleared her throat, her eyes darting away. “Hmm,” she assented.

“You were there when Lord Richard Marley died?”

The woman flinched and paled, her eyes tearing. “Y-yes,” she mumbled.

“How did he die?”

“H-he fell from a tree when he climbed too high and the branch broke. It was … tragic. Lady Jane, I mean Her Grace, was devastated. She cried for months and often woke up screaming for him in the night. It was heartbreaking. She experienced so much tragedy. I-I wish she could have found her happiness. His Grace is a kind man, but I don’t think he had enough time to h-help her before she fell ill. I do not think she had the will to live. She became a sad and lonely girl—quite timid after the accident in the orchard. It was like her light had left her.”

Annabel felt her own eyes well up in response. “I am glad you were here for her.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I did my best to comfort her, but our difference in stations made it difficult.”

Drawing on her resolve, Annabel asked the question that must be asked. The maid would be unhappy, but the information was too important to not press the issue. “Mary, His Grace does not seem to be aware of Lord Richard. Why would that be?”

Mary’s face tensed in distress, her blue eyes darting nervously.

“Mary, I would not ask if it was not important. Please, I need to understand.”

“The-the earl was devastated by the loss of his heir. He—he ordered all signs of mourning to be removed and forbade the mention of the little lord, even removing all his belongings and instructing the gardeners to burn it all. A servant was dismissed for mentioning the young lord, and … Lady Jane was locked in her room for three days with only bread and water after she asked where her brother was, because she was not present at his accident. Her nanny had to comfort her and keep her night terrors a secret. I only know of her troubles because I would watch the young lady on Nanny’s days off, and she warned me to hide Lady Jane’s grieving from his lordship. People react in different ways to loss, but it was not—it was not a healthy situation because she was not permitted to mourn or talk about it. Within weeks, it was as if the young master had never existed, except in Her Grace’s nightmares.”

Annabel fell silent, brooding as she thought about what her own life would have been like if the baron had not simply ignored her after her mother’s death—if she had not had Mrs. Harris, Brendan, and even Richard to comfort her during her own period of loss as a young girl. Her heart fluttered in compassion for the tragic late duchess. The circumstances that Mary described were not healthy, for there had been no healing if there was no acknowledgment of the Marley family’s loss. Instead, the grief must have festered, encysted deep within the late duchess’s soul.

After several moments of silence, Mary took her opportunity to hastily depart the room.

What should Annabel do with this information? She was now certain it explained the events of three years prior. It had a bearing on their current circumstances. How would Philip react if he learned Richard Balfour had been innocent of the accusations heaped on him?

Bosh—innocent of these particular accusations, at least.

Richard did not deserve her regard, so she did not owe him the truth. Philip did deserve her regard, but this information might ruin the fledgling marriage they were building.

Surely Philip would regret his choice of wife when he knew he had chosen her in error to hit back at his cousin, who was guiltless of this particular wrongdoing. And Philip had been so cheerful since the morning he had shared the pain of his past. He was more relaxed; he smiled more readily. Did it serve any purpose to dredge up the past or lay new guilt about snubbing his closest friend?

All her questions were causing Annabel’s head to ache. Best she forget what she had learned for now. She could sort this out once her thoughts were clearer.

* * *

Philip was making his way down the hall to the library when he heard raised voices coming from the servants’ passage near the dining room. He stopped in consternation and looked back. The door stood cracked open like someone had intended to close it, but it had failed to latch. Curious, he wandered closer to the door.

He could make out the hoarse voice of his butler, Clinton.

“You harridan, I will never understand how the duke consented to have a termagant like you working in this household!”

“I don’t know what a termagant is, but I can’t think why someone wonderful such as the duke would have such a stuffed shirt running his household!”

“Shrew!”

“Prig!”

Philip frowned in confusion. It appeared his senior servants did not get along. He considered entering to demand an explanation when a thought occurred to him.

“I will inform the duke of your lax attitude to your duties. One can only hope he will reach the conclusion that a new housekeeper is the only solution. I have seen no one handling the silver in that manner!”

“Then you have seen no one handle silver correctly until you had the privilege of my presence, you old dog.” The housekeeper’s voice was low but menacing.

His suspicions confirmed, Philip gently shut the door and left the two alone to their contentions. He shook his head in amusement as he continued his search for Annabel, who he was certain would be in the library.