Page 36 of My Secret Duke

I vo ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. His head was aching, but that was the least of his worries. He had been sitting in this cramped, untidy office for hours, since the crowded coach—did they really need that many soldiers to stop him escaping?—had brought him here to the new Custom House in Lower Thames Street. Harrison had marched him down a maze of corridors and into this room, then closed, and locked, the door. At first, Ivo had been furious and rattled the doorknob violently, but a voice on the other side had told him to sit and wait. He’d refused to obey, pacing back and forth, but eventually, his anger had leached out of him, and he’d thrown himself down on a chair and tried to think rationally.

His whereabouts weren’t a secret. Someone would come, and hopefully soon. Charles? But his half brother and partner had much to lose by associating himself with Ivo in this situation. Harold then. His cousin would do his utmost to see Ivo set free, and then they would make Harrison pay for his presumption. Ivo tried to whip his anger back up again, but it was difficult to be furious and indignant when the charges against him were nothing but the truth.

He was a smuggler. And this might be the moment the full force of the law came crashing down upon him.

The expression in Olivia’s eyes… He’d been trying not to think about that. She had been shocked. He had tried so hard to be better, and he had succeeded. And now, just when the past seemed behind them, and Ivo was seconds away from proposing to her again, Harrison had to arrest him. Would she have said yes? Ivo thought so, but whatever might have been, it was too late now. She would never say yes after what she, and all the Ashtons’ guests, had witnessed tonight.

The sound of voices outside caught his attention. He’d been resting his head in his hands, but now he lifted it up. The lock on the door rattled as someone turned the key, and a voice he recognized demanded entry. When the door swung back, Gabriel Cadieux, the Duke of Grantham, stood frowning at him. Was he going to abuse him again for ruining the Ashton reputations? It was a moment before Ivo recognized concern in those dark eyes.

“There you are, Northam,” Gabriel said. “Have you been harmed?”

“Only my dignity.”

Behind the duke stood Harrison, face flushed, and mouth drawn into a tight line. He had the look of a man who had just received a tongue-lashing. Ivo hoped so. He knew how formidable Gabriel could be.

Another man brushed past Harrison, a slight man in neat clothing, who Gabriel introduced as Mr. Arnott. “My man of business and my solicitor. He is here to ask Lieutenant Harrison why he thinks he can hold you in this…” Gabriel scowled about him at the poky office and went with, “… place.”

Freddie Hart also slid into the small room, which was already becoming crowded. His usually good-humored face was stern, and his red hair stuck up as though he’d been trying to tear it out. Ivo doubted Hart, good friend of Gabriel though he was, could help. He would be thinking of his own career and the repercussions of disagreeing with his superiors.

But Ivo realized he was mistaken when Freddie turned to him, and said, “Lieutenant Harrison does have permission to hold you here, Your Grace. That is correct. Although there are questions he must answer before he can ask any of you.”

Harrison seemed uncharacteristically flustered. “I have good reason to hold the duke,” he insisted. “I have a witness to his smuggling activities who is willing to give us incontrovertible evidence.”

“Oh?” Freddie looked about him. “And has he? Given you this evidence?”

Harrison shuffled, nervously clearing his throat. “He has yet to give us the names of the smugglers. We have offered him our protection, but he is difficult to convince. And to answer your question, although he has said the duke is connected to this nefarious business, we cannot as yet prove it. The loyalty of his men is misplaced.” He took a breath. “All the same, I firmly believe charges will soon be laid.”

“Then you do not have evidence he is involved?” Gabriel repeated, in disbelief. “It sounds to me as if you have been the victim of a very bad joke, Lieutenant. What do you think, Arnott?”

Arnott took his cue. “Despite the lack of evidence, Lieutenant Harrison still went above his remit and insisted on Northam being detained. Now, from what I have learned, this witness has a great many questions to answer about his own involvement in the smuggling business. And he seems clever enough to have understood this and is now saying very little. Which means there is no reason to hold the duke. Indeed, it would be unlawful to do so.”

Ivo had been listening in amazement. The witness, whoever he was, could not place him at the scene of the crime, and now was not talking at all in case he incriminated himself? It was Mystere, it must be, but who was Mystere?

“What is his name?” he demanded. “This witness of yours, who is he?”

Harrison looked even more uncomfortable. “I believe he goes by a pseudonym…”

“His real name!” Ivo insisted, daring the man to refuse. “I have a right to know. Don’t I?” with a beseeching glance to the others.

Arnott responded. “If this ever came to court, which seems doubtful, the man’s name would need to be given.”

Harrison hesitated and then seemed to cave. “His name is Rendall.”

Ivo sat down heavily. “I know him,” he said shakily. “At least, I did. He has a grudge against me. Nothing he says is true, and I can prove it.”

Could he? He wasn’t entirely sure, but with Bourne’s help, he’d do his best.

Gabriel turned to Harrison with a triumphant smirk. “Well, Lieutenant, what do you say to that? I believe Northam has stayed here long enough and that you are holding him without a shred of evidence. I insist you release him without delay.”

Harrison was struggling to compose himself, clearly embarrassed by his blunder. “It won’t be much longer, and my witness will—” he began, but Freddie stepped in for a quiet word in his ear. Whatever he said seemed to agitate the man even more. He swallowed before straightening up, and turned to Ivo. “You are free to go,” he said, before adding in a threatening tone, as if he had to have the final word, “for now.”

Ivo jumped to his feet, tugged down his waistcoat, and straightened his cuffs. He was still in his formal evening wear, cream breeches and a dark tailcoat, which made the moment feel even stranger than it already was. Had he ever thought the single-minded lieutenant was a reasonable man? He knew now how much he had underestimated the revenue officer’s dedication to duty, and how shortsighted he had been to make a fool of him over a glass of contraband brandy.

“If you wish to speak to me again,” Ivo informed Harrison, “you can do so through Mr. Arnott here.”

Harrison bowed his head as if in deference, but it was obvious he was furious. Feeling a little lightheaded with relief, Ivo followed Gabriel and Arnott from the room. Behind them, he heard Freddie say in a steely voice, “A moment, Harrison,” and then the door closed on them.

Ivo found he did not remember the way out of the place—his mind had been so occupied earlier that he hadn’t noticed—but Gabriel and Arnott did. Finally, they were outside the building.

Ivo could smell the river, because of course the Custom House was beside the Thames. He could see that although the sky was clear and the moon was shining, at some point while he had been held prisoner, it had rained. The surface of the street was dark and shiny.

Gabriel had not spoken until now, but as a coach with the Grantham coat of arms rolled toward them, he said, “Harrison found out that you recently went into partnership with Charles. He knows there is a good chance you are supplying the club with smuggled liquor. I think that is why he acted precipitously tonight, because he believed his case was stronger than it was. Freddie says that until now, he was slated for promotion, and this blot on his record will rein him in. You were lucky, but you may not be as lucky next time.”

Ivo took a deep breath. The air had never been sweeter. “Thank you,” he said with simple sincerity. He still felt shaky. This had not been one of his better nights, and to learn how desperately Harrison wanted him behind bars was sobering.

“My apologies we took so long to get here,” Gabriel went on as they settled into the comfortable seats. “Obviously, I needed Arnott with me.” He leaned his head back against the padded rest and groaned. “I fear the gossips’ tongues will be wagging tomorrow.”

“They cannot blame you for my blunder,” Ivo said wryly.

Gabriel grunted. “And yet once again, it happened at Ashton House.”

He seemed rattled, and Ivo let his thoughts stray to Olivia. He had to ask, even if it brought on another of Gabriel’s frowns. “Is Lady Olivia very upset?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “After seeing you being marched out of the ballroom in front of everyone? I think she was as shocked as anyone there.”

The coach was rumbling down the street, vying for position with various other equipages. Ivo noted they had left the river behind and were closer to Mayfair now. He would soon be home, and what had felt like a bad dream was nearly over. At least for now.

“You said you knew Lieutenant Harrison’s witness?” Arnott asked in his precise manner, turning his curious gaze on Ivo.

Ivo nodded. “He lived in Portside as a boy, but he left years ago. Bourne—my man in the village—tried to trace him when his name came up as a possibility but without success. Can I speak frankly?” He looked to each of them.

Gabriel’s smile was without humor. “If you want our help, then frank is what you need to be. Whatever you have to tell us will not leave this coach. Arnott?”

“No, sir. You have my utter and complete discretion.”

Ivo thought a moment, but there was only one way to say it. “I am a smuggler.”

Gabriel’s brows rose slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “I think we already guessed that. You have been supplying my club with wine and spirits through Charles.”

Ivo cleared his throat. “Yes, well… I have been a smuggler since I was a boy, and my father introduced me to Free Trading. We Fitzsimmonses have all been smugglers, back as far as we know. We have never had any trouble until Polgarth, the captain who brought my contraband in from France, was stopped off the coast by a revenue cutter and arrested. He had been informed on. The same happened to others along the coast. The only captain who wasn’t arrested was a Frenchman called Mystere.” He wiped his palms on his breeches.

“After Polgarth’s cargo was impounded, Charles was in desperate need of supplies for the club—and not just Charles, I have other customers—so I decided to risk using Mystere. As far as we knew, everything went well. Mystere delivered the goods to my men, and they were passed on to my customers. No one complained. But then Harrison was everywhere, and he was focusing his attention on me. He searched my house, harassed my men in Portside, even offering protection to anyone who gave evidence that could lead to a conviction. And now this.”

He shivered, remembering that cramped room.

Gabriel and Arnott had exchanged glances during his recital. “Your thinking is sound,” Gabriel said. “But my question is, why is this Mystere so eager to have you arrested and charged?”

“We think Mystere is Jacob Rendall, and he hates me because of something I did to him. He wants to revenge himself on me, and this is his way of doing it.”

He wondered how he could have been so thoughtless as to insult the boy. His hurt and anger must have festered over the years, and this was the result. Yes, at the time Ivo had been young and his father had just died, but all the same, he felt he should have done better. It was as if all those instances of reckless behavior had come home to roost.

“Do you think Rendall will stop now? Keep silent to save his own skin?” Gabriel asked. “Charles is worried about the club, and if he’s worried, then so am I.”

Ivo imagined Charles would be worried. With the club in their joint hands, the last thing Charles needed was his partner charged with smuggling. The gaming club’s customers would shy away, and the previous owner, Longley, would stir things up into a storm. Charles would lose money he could ill afford to lose. And Ivo would lose his freedom.

He wasn’t sure he could survive prison and whatever came after—transportation to the colonies, or hanging, or simply languishing in a cell for years and years. He had always taken his privileged life for granted, and to have it taken away from him… No, he wasn’t sure he would survive it.

The coach stopped, and Ivo looked up. They had reached his town house, and the windows were alight, unusual for the late hour—his mother was always early to bed. With a sinking heart, he knew his interrogation was not over just yet; he had to face his family. The front door opened, and Carlyon the butler stood there holding a lantern.

“My mother,” Ivo began, a lump in his throat. Until now, the consequences of his arrest had not fully come to him.

Gabriel said sympathetically, “Your mother is understandably upset. You will need to set her mind at rest. Your sisters too. We will talk when we have both rested.”

Ivo wanted to mention Olivia again. He had told her he loved her and had dared her to marry him! And he could have sworn she was going to accept. Well, Gabriel was unlikely to consent to a union between his sister and a felon. It was debatable whether he would consent to her marrying a smuggler either, although Gabriel was no hypocrite. But how could he take Ivo seriously after everything that had happened?

Ivo stepped down to the cobbled street. “Thank you again,” he said sincerely. “I am in your debt.”

“You are,” Gabriel agreed cheerfully, and then the coach rolled off.

Ivo looked up at the moon and felt very alone. He could not remember ever feeling quite so alone. He wished, as he hadn’t in years, that his father was by his side, to bluff his way through the coming interrogation. His father had always been a good liar. But then Ivo reminded himself that he was a better man than his father. With a deep breath, he started toward the house.

“Sir, your mother—” Carlyon began in a quavering voice, but he didn’t finish.

“Is that my son? Ivo, is that you? Oh, thank God, I feared…” Ivo’s mother was already coming down the stairs toward them. In the light of the lantern, he could see that her face was flushed and swollen from weeping as she stretched out her hands.

He hurried forward to take them, and then wrapped his arms about her as she clung to him.

“Ivo, oh Ivo, I was so worried! Tell me it is all some dreadful mistake!”

“It was a mistake, Mother, and see? Here I am, safe and sound.” Over her head he could see his sisters had joined them, both looking apprehensive. “There’s no need to worry. I am quite all right.”

He led his mother into the sitting room, where there was a fire. As they sat on the sofa, her hands in his, it took some time to convince her that he really was fine. Every time he thought she was over the worst of her terrors, she would start up again. “Your father,” she said. “He was…” Her eyes slid to his, and he was shocked at the misery in their depths. “He was mixed up in some dangerous business, but… I had hoped for better for you, Ivo. I know you idolized him, but when I pleaded with him not to lead you astray, he laughed.”

It occurred to Ivo that they were having a truthful conversation. He had often wondered if his mother had so successfully erased the truth regarding her husband from her mind that she could no longer admit to it. But it seemed the truth had always been there, just well hidden, and the shock of Ivo’s arrest had brought it out of hiding.

Eventually, he and his sisters persuaded their mother to retire with a dose of laudanum, and Lexy went with her. Ivo was left sitting, staring at nothing and feeling shattered. It wasn’t until Adelina spoke that he remembered she was still there.

“You are, aren’t you?” she said in a wavering voice that strove to be firm. “Involved in smuggling? Just like father and his father before him? Ivo, how could you!”

He wasn’t sure how to answer her. “How could you” seemed to suggest it was something he had chosen, and he wasn’t sure it was that simple.

“It was handed down to me by our father,” he said. “Like my fair hair and green eyes. It just was , and it never even occurred to me to say no. When he died, it felt like a link that still bound me to him, and I wanted to make him proud by carrying on the family business.”

And I enjoyed it. It was an escape from the tedium of running an estate drowning in debt.

Adelina heaved a sigh. “I know Mother can be frustrating, but it’s the only way she can cope with the past, with our father. She pretends he was some dashing Sir Galahad who could do no wrong. Lexy and I go along with her because it’s easiest, but we know that wasn’t true. I remember very well the tears that were shed whenever she discovered he had a new mistress. I know I should have guessed about the smuggling, but perhaps I am a little like Mother and have my head buried in the sand.”

For a time, they were silent. Earlier, Carlyon had served them coffee, and there was a decanter of spirits on the table. Ivo poured himself a glass and, with a glance at Adelina, poured her one too.

“The thing is,” he admitted, observing the color of the liquid in his glass, “I don’t know if I can stop. So many people rely upon me and the profits we make. Portside is a smuggling village, and the benefits are everywhere. Even Cadieux’s has a part to play. How can I just end it?”

Adelina gave him a droll look. “If you go to prison, then you will have to stop. And you can always bail out of Cadieux’s. I don’t know why you agreed to be Charles Wickley’s partner anyway. You don’t owe him anything.”

He hesitated. Was this the moment to tell her? It seemed to be a night for confidences. “Charles Wickley,” he began.

Adelina fixed him with a puzzled stare.

Ivo continued. “He’s our brother. Half brother. We have the same father.”

Adelina picked up her brandy and swallowed it in one gulp, and then proceeded to cough violently. Her eyes were still watering when she finally spoke. “I did see the resemblance. I thought it was just one of those things.”

“I’ve wondered for some time. Recently, I learned the truth from him. One positive thing is that he’s not worried about claiming a share of the estate or anything ridiculous like that. Legally, he wouldn’t be entitled. This is not the same situation as that of the Duke of Grantham. Though what does worry me is, if there is one bastard, there are sure to be others. Father had quite the reputation.” He had dismissed Jacob’s claim out of hand, but was he a half brother after all?

Adelina clenched her fists. “It makes me so angry when I think of what he put our mother through.” Then, with a wide-eyed look, “You’re not—”

“Certainly not!” Ivo responded sharply. “That is one trait I have not inherited from him.”

Adelina relaxed. “I’m glad to hear it. And anyway, I rather thought you had a tendre for Lady Olivia Ashton. You did seem smitten.”

Ivo laughed uncomfortably. “We are friends, but after tonight, she may never speak to me again.” He wasn’t going to discuss his deeper feelings for Olivia with his sister, no matter how good her intentions. Ivo yawned and rose to his feet. “I am going to bed. Thank you for… for everything.”

He was at the door when she said, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you and Olivia look at each other.”

But Ivo kept on walking.