Page 31 of The Reluctant Duke (Bi-Curious Historical Romance)

L ord Tobias Moran

After an excruciating night spent amongst other prisoners, some of whom looked rather sketchy, I stared up at the ceiling from my bunk. What I wouldn’t give for a bath. I didn’t wish to think about what was underneath me that made me itch so badly. Perhaps it was the filth all around me or the fact that I couldn’t indulge myself any longer.

Along with snores and sniffles, a few fights had erupted. Men came and went, and I lost track of how many or who they were. I didn’t try to make friends. I knew that wasn’t a good idea because I didn’t intend to be here very long.

I hoped that Mrs. Paul had given Birdie the note and she’d obtained a solicitor for me. I had enough funds to make bond and had been informed by the officer who served us breakfast, or what could be construed as breakfast—a runny gruel with little flavor, that I would see the judge later this afternoon.

Having no view of the outside world, I lost track of time. The glaring single bulb above me lacked the golden glow I was used to in my office. I scratched at the underside of my chin, praying I didn’t have fleas. The mortification almost overcame me, but right was on my side, and I needed to stand up for it.

Footsteps sounded, and a man approached the cell. It was Stark. He motioned for the guard standing outside the cell to open it and waved at me without saying a word. I followed him down the long corridor, glad to be out of that tight box that smelled of excrement, sweat, and desperation.

Stark led me to a different corridor, this one much more welcoming. He motioned me into a very -looking office and encouraged me to sit. I was curious whether he intended to interrogate me further, wondering why he was giving me this one-on-one attention. It didn’t make much sense because I was supposedly a criminal. Or perhaps he was feeling guilty about listening to his grandfather and arresting me for no real reason.

Granted, I published materials that weren’t for the public eye, but it was a common misdemeanor as Ash once told me. Worst case scenario, I could do a year in jail, but I had funds, and people with funds were often forgiven while other men who’d been in the cell were victims of their own poverty.

“I wanted to talk to you personally and offer my apologies for your arrest.” Stark glanced down at his desk, showing very little emotion. It made me suspicious. Trying to placate me so that he could capture me in a lie?

“I don’t understand. Yesterday, I was the worst sort of criminal for passing corrupt materials to impressionable young children, and today, I’m being released?” Settling back in the seat, I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t just going to let this go. I wanted him to give me some answers. My gut told me that Ash had something to do with this, which concerned me greatly. I didn’t want him or his family to become involved or use their influence to do something rash and bring suspicion on themselves. Well, not themselves in general, but Ash himself.

“I’ve also asked you here to impart some rather sad news, I’m afraid.” Stark didn’t rise to the bait but continued tapping his thumb against the tabletop. Like me, he had a spring chair, but his seemed to be behaving itself. “I’m sorry to say that Lord Nigel and his son were killed in a boating accident.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I clenched my fists. Of course he would know who I was. “That’s unfortunate.” Although I said it casually enough, my head was spinning with the implications. Nigel and John were dead? The only two men in the line had been killed together. Which meant—shivers of dread raced through me, and I tried not to panic. The implications were life changing. “I see.”

“You are free to go, Mr. Moran. Or, should I say, Your Grace?” Bitterness laced his words. Although he spoke politely enough, contempt underlay his comment.

“I’m not the Duke.” I didn’t want anything to do with the title of Moreland. It had brought nothing but heartache and shame to my father and me. Not to mention my friends had no idea about my past, which would affect them as well. Ash would hate me.

“You might not wish it, but it is a fact. You are the Duke of Moreland, and as such, I’ve been instructed to release you immediately and to offer you our heartfelt apology for the mistake we made.”

A harsh laugh escaped me, but there was no amusement behind it. I shook my head, unable to fathom the information he imparted. How could it be that my cousin and uncle both died at the same time? I could say nothing, could formulate no response. This was surreal.

“There is a solicitor named Mr. Humphrey here, as well as your secretary, Mrs. Worth. They have been waiting for you for quite a while, so you might want to meet them in the lobby. Your belongings will be delivered to your office.”

I wanted to get out of there, but I wasn’t quite done with him yet. “I know this isn’t your fault, and you’re just doing your job, but I need to know who ordered my arrest? And don’t say you can’t tell me because now that I’m a duke, I guess I could demand it of your superiors.” I was already sounding like Nigel, and I hated it.

He seemed to be weighing his answer before he heaved a heavy sigh. “You were correct in your assumption, but you didn’t hear that from me. And just like you don’t like to be judged by Lord Moreland, because I can tell you disliked him intensely, do not judge me by my grandfather.”

A touch of shame coursed through me, and I nodded. “Of course. My apologies. Our families don’t define who we are. Does Inspector Ashton know about this?”

“The investigation or the fact that you’re a duke?” A touch of amusement quirked his mouth.

“Both. I want you to know that he’s not involved in any of this. We are very good friends, but that doesn’t mean he knows my business. I don’t want this to reflect poorly on him or his family. They are good people, as you know.” I stood up, ready to get out of there and face Birdie and the mysterious Mr. Humphrey, but I wasn’t ready to face Ash. I couldn’t stand for him to hate me, and I had a sense that he would.

Stark let me out of the office, walking by my side as we went down another corridor. We walked in silence for a moment, our footsteps on the floor the only sound. A set of glass doors was up ahead, and he indicated that I should precede him. Before I went through, I stopped, turned around, and held out my hand as a peace offering.

Looking shocked at first, he took my hand and relief spread across his face.

If I were a prat like Nigel, I could have him fired. I would never do that to somebody because I’d lost my temper. “Thank you, Detective Chief Inspector. And thank your mother for being a big fan of MH Roth. I’ll make sure the author autographs the entire series for her, and that she receives an invitation to the annual luncheon I host for my authors.”

He dropped his hand, his eyes widening with shock before a smile twisted his lips. “Thank you. She would like that.”

I went through the door and spied Birdie pacing the lobby. A thin man sitting on a tufted round sofa lifted his head as I exited. Birdie rushed across the space, her smile wide.

“Moran.” She threw herself at me, clutching her arms around my neck. Head back, she began to spread kisses over my mouth and cheeks. “I am so glad you are safe. Mr. Humphrey helped me get them to see reason.”

Either she was unaware of the spectacle she was making or didn’t care. I held her tightly for a long moment before sliding my hands up her arms and pulling out of her embrace.

“Then you know?” I asked, the knowledge still surreal and most unwelcome.

Her smile fell and she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Humphrey mistook me for you wife and let the information slip. It would seem he was your uncle’s solicitor, and now he is yours.”

A man was dragged in, screaming and fighting the officers. A woman followed, sobbing for the officer not to hurt her son.

“Let us leave this place. I need a bath.” I had the luxury of leaving. He didn’t. Jaw clenched, I held out my arm to Birdie. She slipped her hand into the crook of my arm.

Humphrey trailed behind us.

“Mr. Humphrey has a carriage.” Birdie leaned against me in a familiar manner, her expression upbeat. The smile she continued to wear warmed my heart.

“Excellent. I wish to get home posthaste and bathe. Will you join me?”

“Yes, it would be my pleasure.” She glanced at me as we exited, the weak sunlight a welcome feeling, along with the crispness of fresh air—well, as fresh as it could be in London. “But I am afraid I can’t stay long. My sisters will worry.”

“Of course. Where is Ash?” I was afraid of the answer but had to ask.

Birdie steered me toward a polished carriage and two handsome horses waiting on the street. It didn’t bear a ducal crest, which was a relief. I didn’t wish to draw attention to the title I had no intention of keeping.

“He is working.” Her voice turned grave and she bit her lip, not looking at me.

“He’s furious. Isn’t he?” My stomach sank and I willed my feet to keep moving.

The driver opened the door, and I assisted Birdie inside the luxurious interior.

She sat on the bench and adjusted her skirts. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, speaking of exhaustion. “He is. I, well, I don’t know what to say. We are all in shock over the events that have unfolded. I am afraid the office doesn’t look good.”

“And the manuscripts for Golden?” I had left her a clue in the note.

“Yes, they never found the floor safe.” She squeezed my wrist before dropping it.

Humphrey entered and sat down, huffing out a long breath. He offered me a quizzical smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Your Grace.”

I balked at the title. “It’s Moran.”

The man stared at me, uncertainty in his gaze. “I... I have some papers for you to sign and—”

“Let me stop you right there.” I held up my hand, needing to get home and bathe. The stench on my person was nauseating. I couldn’t imagine how Birdie and Humphrey could stand the smell. “I don’t wish for the title. Find someone else to inherit it.”

Birdie startled at the pronouncement, glancing between me and Humphrey.

“I, you, don’t want the title?” Humphrey fidgeted with the handle of his cane. “I don’t think that is possible. It, well, you are the only heir.”

“Then the title will die with Nigel.” I stared outside, wishing I hadn’t agreed to ride in the carriage. We weren’t far from my home and restlessness dogged me. Soon I would be home and could put this nightmare behind me. I had to explain things to Ash and pray he forgave me. I was glad that Birdie seemed to be on my side. I wasn’t sure what I would do without her.

There hadn’t been a dull moment since she entered my life. She was the most honest person I knew and I valued her opinions. If things were different, and she wished to marry, I would make her my wife. Except she had other ideas.