Page 89 of The Phantom Duke

“By our father,” Ezekiel said, refusing to be drawn.

His self-control was admirable. His clothes were well-made but plain, and had clearly been repaired more than once. There was much to be admired if his story was true.

If half of that story was true, then Ezekiel had suffered in his life and struggled. The fact that he was here, self-possessed and confident, was laudable. It spoke of determination and character.

“I was born in Newcastle and grew up in Bamburgh. Gabriel provided an annuity for our mother, and we lived comfortably, if simply. When she died…”

Ezekiel stopped, staring into space, eyes unfocused. His mouth worked as though he were seeking words. Damien felt an echo of his emotion. He felt it when he thought of his mother’s passing, and he averted his gaze, refusing to look at the young man.

“When was that?” Maria asked softly.

“I was ten. I am given to understand that when I was born, you were six,” Ezekiel said to Damien, who nodded.

“How did she die?” Damien asked, unable to keep the urgency from his voice.

He leaned forward; hands clasped together atop the desk.

It has always been a given that her life was cut short by that brute. I mourned her and raged against the injustice. But now I find she lived for years away from me. Was she even happy?

“Influenza. It swept through the town and took many lives. Mother tried to help the afflicted. That was her nature.”

Damien nodded again, looking down at the desk.

“I remember her as being kind. I have few memories of her, but that is very clear.”

“She was,” Ezekiel agreed. “Though I wish she had been more selfish.”

Damien smiled tightly; his words echoed his own thoughts. He met Ezekiel’s eyes and something passed between them.

I am beginning to believe him. Has Maria weakened me so much? A few months ago, I would have thrown him off my land with a thrashing for his trouble. Now I reminisce.

He broke away from Ezekiel’s gaze and cleared his throat, standing.

“That is all very well, but it does not constitute proof. You could be an impostor intent on inveigling your way into Winterleigh for personal gain.”

“I will vouch for Ezekiel,” Maria said. “Having spoken to him and heard what he has to say here. I believe him.”

Damien looked at her, trying to hide his disbelief. Maria sounded absurd. She must realize how little a single impression of Ezekiel would be as evidence.

“That does little to quell my suspicions.”

“Then try harder,” Maria shot back.

He grinned wolfishly. “Can you offer any proof, Master Ezekiel?” he asked.

Ezekiel sighed, putting aside his tea and sandwiches, and dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. He undid his coat and then unlaced his shirt, pulling it wide.

“I should not hesitate, but as I suspect you do, I regard it as unsightly and prefer to keep it covered.”

Damien leaned forward, forgetting himself enough to gasp. On Ezekiel’s chest, spilling across his left breast to the collarbone, the skin was stained red.

CHAPTER 23

“Imust confess that I did not expect that to happen,” Evelina said, sipping from her glass of brandy. They were all gathered at the Corset Chronicles, listening as Maria regaled them with everything that had happened since Ezekiel’s arrival. “My word!”

“I know,” Maria said, “but it is true.”

“I can scarcely believe that he has the same mark!” Anna exclaimed.