Page 19 of My Secret Duke
B ourne had arrived at the house before breakfast, and so Charles had once again delayed his departure for London and the club. Will Tremeer was back at Cadieux’s, in temporary charge, and Ivo could tell that Charles trusted the younger man implicitly.
Ivo could not be sure whether or not Lieutenant Harrison’s men were watching Whitmont, but even if they were, there was no reason for them to suspect Bourne of carrying secret messages. He was a regular visitor to the house, as well as being a Portside tenant, who acted as spokesman for the other tenants.
Of course, the villagers had heard of the revenue men’s visit, and they were naturally concerned. Ivo spent some time reassuring Bourne that he was doing all in his power to keep everyone safe, before finally moving on to the main reason for his summons.
“Tell me what you know about this Mystere.” Ivo poured Bourne a brandy as they sat together in the study. Charles, who already had a glass, stood leaning against the wall near the portrait of the late duke. Ivo tried not to look over there because the resemblance was making him feel deeply uncomfortable.
Bourne took a sip and thoughtfully rolled the brandy around in his mouth before he swallowed. “I don’t know much,” he admitted. “We needed someone to bring our goods over from France in a hurry after Polgarth was arrested, and Mystere was the only option. It was a risk, I admit, but a calculated one. If you leave a message at the inn on the waterfront at Worth, he will respond, though as far as I’m aware, no one has seen him face-to-face. The goods we ordered were delivered from his sloop into waiting boats near the coast off Portside, but no one saw him, or if they did, they did not know it was him.”
“A mystery man indeed,” Ivo murmured. “Why would he inform on me to the Revenue Service? Surely that would be counterproductive if he wants to make a living from my business.”
“A grudge?” Charles said. “Some past misdeed? Does anything occur to you?”
Ivo huffed a laugh. “This again! Where would I start? But no, seriously, nothing that would cause a man like Mystere to want to revenge himself on me.”
“What about other family members?” Charles mused. “Your father, for instance?”
Was there a probing note in his voice? Ivo paused, trying to read the other man’s expression, but Charles was very good at hiding his thoughts.
And it was true that Ivo’s father did have a past that might cause someone to want retribution. Or was it Ivo who had been the reason for revenge? Bourne caught his eye, and Ivo knew he was thinking the same thing. A memory, something he had almost forgotten, rose to the surface. “There was someone…”
“Jacob Rendall,” Bourne said. “I haven’t seen him for years, but he left Portside under a cloud. If I remember rightly, he swore vengeance on you.”
“Vengeance? For what?” Charles asked curiously.
Ivo felt a ripple of shame. He didn’t want to talk about it, especially in front of Charles, but Bourne was watching him, and Bourne had been there too. “My father had just died, and this Jacob arrived as I was taking my place as leader of the Portside men. I was young, and it was of huge importance for me to show everyone, to show myself, that I was up to the task. Then Jacob turned up and announced he was my brother. Half brother. He said we should share, him and me. He didn’t seem to understand that wasn’t going to happen, and he wouldn’t shut up about it. In the end, I told him he was no brother of mine, and he left.” He looked to Bourne in preference to looking at Charles. “Was there any more to it? Surely it was a tempest in a teacup.”
Bourne crossed his arms. “You told him that no one who was a dim-witted, ugly monster like him could possibly be a member of your family. He had something wrong with his eye. He did not take your words well.”
Oh God, he remembered it now. He had been rather unfeeling about Jacob and his walleye, but at the time, he’d had a great deal to prove. “You all laughed at him,” he reminded Bourne.
“We laughed because you were our new leader. Jacob was one of us, and then he wasn’t. I did not see him again after that day.”
Ivo pushed his guilt away. There were plenty of other things he had done in his twenty-seven years that he regretted, ridiculous and idiotic things that had probably had consequences far beyond himself. He just hadn’t cared at the time. Jacob was but one of them. “Perhaps you can find him,” he said at last. “Is his family still in the village?”
“His mother died of fever. He comforted himself with the belief that he and you were half brothers. It was probably the sort of fantasy a lonely boy might tell himself. No one believed him,” Bourne added hastily, with an apologetic grimace. “You were right to send him away.”
Was he? It was too late now to make amends, and he had other matters to deal with if he was not to lose everything.
“There was talk that he went off to join the army. I’ll ask around. Someone might know.” Bourne finished his brandy and stood up. “I’ll ask about Mystere too, and see what else I can find out,” he said. “If the Frenchman has turned traitor, then others must know of it. And then there is the question of why he is the last smuggler remaining along our stretch of coast, after Polgarth and the others were arrested. Why haven’t they arrested him too?”
“Someone out there must have answers.” Ivo also stood up. “Apologies, but there can be no more orders from us to Mystere until this puzzle has been solved.” He held up his hands when Bourne began to protest. “I know, I know, it is not what either of us wants to hear, but reassure your men that I will assist them in any way I can. No one will go without, and more importantly, no one will go to prison.”
Ivo just hoped he could keep his promise as the debts began to pile up.
When Bourne had left them alone, silence fell over the room.
Ivo felt a weight settle on his shoulders. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Charles, standing right beside his father’s portrait, was drawing his attention to the plain truth. He had to speak.
But he had waited too long, because it was Charles who spoke first.
“Your father,” he began and then stopped.
Ivo sighed. “My father,” he agreed. “I admired him when I was a boy, wanted to be just like him, but then I discovered he had another side. A darker side.” He looked at Charles. “Do you know anything about your parents?”
Charles didn’t seem surprised to be asked that or by the seeming change of subject.
“I was brought up at St. Ninian’s, same as Gabriel and Freddie. Someone handed me in as a newborn, and for a time, things were dicey. I was sickly.” He shrugged. “But I fought off the usual childhood illnesses, and here I am.”
Ivo nodded, waiting, but Charles was waiting too. He raised an eyebrow in that way that irritated Ivo at the same time as it caused a painful sensation in his chest.
“I think you know what I am asking,” Ivo said, his impatience leaking into his voice. “Have you ever heard mention of your father?”
“No,” Charles replied, “but lately, I have wondered if…” He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “The late duke was a renowned womanizer, or so I have heard, and the only information I did manage to glean from St. Ninian’s was that my mother came from Kent. She died soon after my birth, or so I was told, but perhaps they tell all foundlings that.”
Ivo let out a breath. “There were always rumors about my father and the village women, which is probably why Jacob got it into his head that he was my half brother. But there was one rumor in particular that seemed based in truth. A child was born and taken to St. Ninian’s, far enough away, it was hoped, to stop any gossip from reaching my mother’s ears. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six years, I believe.”
“I am twenty-seven.” Ivo played with his glass a moment with a frown. “There can be no doubting the resemblance between you and my father,” he said, nodding at the portrait, “or you and myself. I think you were the baby, which means… you are a Fitzsimmons.”
Charles looked shaken. He gave a jerky nod. “Others have mentioned the likeness between us, but I dismissed it, but then when I saw your father’s portrait…” He swallowed. “It is hard to deny that we share the same blood.”
“I’m not denying it, although it’s damned awkward.”
Charles frowned. “I have no claim on you or your family, and I will make none. I have made my own way in the world and have no intention of altering that. If you no longer wish to join me in the Cadieux’s venture, then I release you from it.”
Ivo could see he’d struck a nerve, but he had simply spoken aloud the concerns he had had for some time. He gave a harsh laugh. “The partnership with you is the only thing likely to keep me afloat.” The words were out before he could stop them.
Charles’s eyes widened comically. “Are you bankrupt?”
“Not yet. I still hope to turn matters about. When it comes to the Cadieux’s venture…” He gave an uncomfortable shrug. “It’s I who should be thanking you.”
Charles shook his head. “I would never have guessed.”
“The Fitzsimmonses are good at putting on a front. Don’t worry though. I have the blunt to buy into your business. And I have every intention of making a profit for us both. I only meant, with the resemblance between us, that there will be questions asked,” he said frankly, “and we can’t ignore them forever. I’m surprised Gabriel hasn’t already asked them.”
Charles huffed a laugh. “Gabriel and I have known each other for so long, he no longer sees me as anything but a friend. Maybe he’s noticed the resemblance in passing, but unless I point it out to him, he won’t say anything. You’re right, though. There will be others with sharper eyes. If you and I are partners at Cadieux’s, we’ll need to decide what to say to them.”
That was true, but Ivo didn’t want to announce the relationship immediately. Especially with Harrison sniffing around. “Maybe a vague reference to a family connection?” he suggested at last. “Everyone knows the Fitzsimmonses have a certain look. A strong resemblance to each other.” He waved his hand at Charles and then at his father’s portrait.
Charles shrugged. “As you wish,” he said. “I will not speak of your father’s indiscretion unless I am asked directly, and I doubt anyone will be rude enough to do that. Although Freddie…” He smiled at the thought of one of his best friends.
“I think Gabriel should know first. And then there is the question of Justina…”
Charles’s gaze sharpened and his carefree manner hardened. “You warned me off her,” he said slowly, as if he was seeing things from a different perspective now. “I think I see why. Is it that you believe I have inherited my father’s… your father’s predilection for seduction? I was angry at the time. I thought you considered me too many rungs below her on the social ladder, and that was why—”
“Not at all,” Ivo assured him. “My father was a likable man, a charming man, and I loved him dearly. I did not know about the procession of women until I was older. And as you also have a reputation with the ladies…” He gave Charles a challenging stare.
Again, Charles gave that huff of laughter. “I like women, I admit it, and there was a time when I found myself in their company a great deal. But since I began to help Gabriel with Cadieux’s, I haven’t had time for carousing. And now I have met Justina and,” his smile was almost sweet, “I do not want to spend time with any woman but her.”
Ivo believed him, and besides, why would he lie? It wasn’t even as if Ivo was related to Justina and was therefore bound to protect her. But Gabriel was. Ivo suspected Charles would have a job persuading the Duke of Grantham of his sincerity. Things could get awkward, but Ivo did not doubt Charles would fight for her.
“You are in love with her,” he said.
Charles blushed, and it was heartening to see him lose that confidence again.
“Yes, I love her. And I am sincere in my desire to marry her, but Gabriel may view things differently. We grew up together, and he has seen me at my worst. Persuading him I am in earnest may take a little time, but Justina is a treasure, and I will do all in my power to gain Gabriel’s permission to marry her.”
Ivo stared a moment longer, but Charles did not drop his gaze. “Very well. I believe you. If you decide to approach Gabriel and you need my support, I will give it.”
Charles seemed surprised by that, and then he smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I may well need your support, knowing how fiercely Gabriel protects his sisters.” He stepped away from the portrait and came to sit opposite Ivo. “Right now, I think we have a more pressing matter. Mystere.”
“We do not know he is the traitor in our ranks.”
“No, but I think it more likely than not. I mean, would this Jacob fellow still be holding a grudge against you after all these years?”
Ivo hoped that was true. They needed to discover what Mystere was up to. Before Lieutenant Harrison and his revenue men made another attempt to arrest him.