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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

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“Yes, Tess mentioned Pamela gave her a look-in to offer her condolences at Russell's untimely death.” He lit the cigar as he recalled what else Tess had said to him about Pamela's comments.

“Untimely?” Stedley picked up his glass of wine and leaned back in his chair. “There are rumblings among those who should know better than to gossip that your brother may have chosen the exact time of his death.”

“You believe Russell killed himself?” Cameron laughed tersely. “My brother was never fond of anything that did not bring him pleasure, and I doubt there is much pleasure in crashing one's carriage into a tree.”

“My point exactly.” Stedley sat straighter.

“I am afraid if that is your point, I do not comprehend it.”

“Your brother was miserable just before he died. Dashed poor company, always down in the mouth about something or other, to the point there was a general feeling he was tired of life in London.”

“When I last spoke with Russell, he was jubilant.” His mouth twisted as he puffed on the cigar. Millsmere must have been losing badly, because this was a truly fine smoke. “He had a new mistress, and he, for once, was not asking me for a loan.”

“He had regained his pleasure in life not because of his new incognita, but because he had decided not to pay hush money to whoever had a hank upon him.”

Now Cameron sat bolt upright in his chair. “Had a hank upon him? Are you saying my brother was being blackmailed?”

Stedley shuffled the cards over and over. “I assumed you knew.”

“No.”

“It was not quite common knowledge, although I know he spoke of the disgusting matter to several friends one night when he was deep in his cups.”

Cameron folded his arms over his chest. “Blackmailed for what? No matter what else my brother did, he showed good sense in not seducing another man's wife.”

“That is not the only thing one can be blackmailed for.”

“True, but Russell had no interest in politics, and he certainly was not interested in any sort of industry. No one could accuse him of taking another's ideas for his own profit.” He put down his cigar, no longer interested in it. By the elevens, was it possible Russell had been blackmailed? That would explain the two hundred fifty pounds that monthly vanished from Russell's funds and was never accounted for.

“What about a duel?” Stedley continued.

“Russell?” Cameron laughed mirthlessly. “On that one subject, my brother showed the utmost common sense after his single encounter with an
affaire de honor
. He would ignore a gauntlet thrown down at his feet or slapped across his face. He enjoyed life too much to chance that some drunken beef-head might aim a pistol at his heart.”

Stedley shrugged. “I have to own he never mentioned why he was being blackmailed, only that it was costing him dear. Find out who was extorting money from him and why, and, I suspect, Cameron, you will discover what caused that carriage to crash.”

“I know. 'Twas thieves chasing them.”

“But who set those thieves upon them? That is the question you should be asking.”

Cameron heard the shouts even over the clatter of horseshoes on the stones of the street. Drawing in the reins, he watched Russell's sons racing about the center of the square. A footman chased after them, adding to their giggles and excited cries. The younger boy ran up to where two women were talking. Throwing his arms around the waist of one for a quick hug, he then ran back to join his brother.

The perfect scene of domestic bliss … but one Cameron had no part in. He looked toward his door. When had his home become someone else's, so he felt like an outsider there?

He shivered, even though the air was warm. Blast it! Why was he acting as if he were jealous of those children? Marrying Tess would never have been his choice. Even so, he could not deny how her hands had gently enfolded Philip when the little boy flung his arms around her. Nor could he deny the thoughts of those fingers touching her husband in other, more intimate ways. This need was becoming more intense with the passing of each hour.

His wife.

Yet she was not his wife. Their marriage was a delusion. Thinking of other matters would be the best thing he could do. He should concentrate on finding out the truth about what had caused the carriage to crash, killing Russell and his mistress, and why. The muddled and often contradictory story the constable had shared with him had created only more questions in his mind.

“Cameron!” Tess's voice swept all dark thoughts from his head as his heart abruptly came to life as if it had been dormant too long. She waved to him, smiling.

He swung down from his horse and walked to where she stood by a woman who must be at least two decades older than Tess. The woman's hair was still an uncompromising brown, but her face bore the wrinkles of many years. She was plump and quite short. Her clothes were simple, but obviously well cared for. Over her arm, she carried a basket covered with a bright cloth. A pair of scissors stuck out of one side.

“Cameron, this is Mrs. Detloff, the new governess. Mrs. Detloff, Lord … I mean, the Duke of Hawkington.” Tess's face flushed with her error. Then she smiled. “Forgive me, Cameron.”

“It is a title both of us must still become accustomed to having connected with my name.” He was astonished when she lowered her eyes, obviously not wanting him to guess her thoughts. What had unsettled her now?

Before he could ask that aloud, Mrs. Detloff said, “'Tis a pleasure to have the chance to oversee your nephews, Your Grace. They are lively boys.”

“Lively may be an understatement.” He watched Donald pounce on his brother, and the two boys fell to the ground, wrestling like pups.

“I assure you I am equal to the task, Your Grace.”

“I trust you will be.”

“She has offered,” Tess added, “to oversee the moving of the boys' things from their old house.”

“Haven't they all been moved here already?”

“I thought it best for them to become used to this house before we brought in much that reminded them of their past.”

“No doubt an excellent idea, and no doubt something Mrs. Detloff and some of the footmen can handle with ease.” He held out his arm. “Tess?”

Her fingers quivered when she put them on his sleeve. Leading her toward the house, he handed the reins to the lad who rushed to take them. He saw Tess's surprise when he continued along the walkway that edged the street around the green center of the square.

“The boys were collecting grubs and insects for Heddy,” she said.

“Who?”

“My hedgehog.” Tess started to add more, then saw the distant expression in Cameron's eyes. Not distant, but turned inward, warning he was wrestling with his own thoughts as fiercely the boys were on the grass.

While they continued to walk around the small square, he said, “I must tell you something that will distress you greatly.”

She gulped. Had he found a way to end their marriage? That would explain his comment to Mrs. Detloff that he was unaccustomed to having the title of duke connected with his name.
His
, not hers. And she could not forget seeing that letter from Mr. Paige, the solicitor, in Cameron's book. A quaver slipped into her voice as she said, “All right.”

“All right?” He looked at her and smiled. “Tess, your serenity makes it always a pleasure to speak with you.”

“Always?”

He laughed, but the sound was taut. “Almost always, I should say more correctly.” Without a pause, he added, “I was speaking with Lord Stedley at the club.”

“Mrs. Livingstone's …” She knew her face was red again, because it burned like a flame.

“Yes,” Cameron said with the gentleness he revealed so seldom. “Eventually you may become accustomed to Town ways and see it is not unusual that I can remain friends with my erstwhile mistress and her new paramour.”

“I doubt that.”

“Again that honesty.”

She put her other hand on his arm and stepped in front of him, forcing him to halt. “What is it, Cameron? What is wrong?”

“What is wrong is that Russell and his beloved Isabel's deaths may not have been as simple as a robbery.”

Tess listened in growing horror as Cameron outlined what he had learned from speaking with Lord Stedley, the constable who had contacted Cameron with the news of his brother's death, and the office of the Bow Street Runners. “Blackmail?” she gasped.

“Yes. At least, that is what Stedley spoke of.”

She tried to swallow past the clog in her throat. This was too much of a coincidence. Papa was having money extorted from him, and now it was possible Russell had been as well. By Mr. Knox, too? No, that made no sense, because Mr. Knox was Cameron's friend, and Papa had intimated Mr. Knox had been acting at the request of Russell Hawksmoor when he arranged for the special license for Cameron to marry her.

“But why?” she choked. “Why would anyone murder your brother? It makes no sense.”

“I doubt if murder is the act of a sensible mind.”

“Aren't you angry?”

“I am seething.”

She stared up at him, searching his face for any sign of such a strong emotion. There was none, save in his narrowed eyes, which blazed. “How can you be so calm?”

He put his hand over hers on his arm. “I must be, Tess. So must you be. If the one who did this—”

“Assuming the
on dits
are right, and it was not simply an unfortunate accident caused by a knight of the pad who took his booty and fled.”

“I cannot assume that any longer.” His lips tightened into a familiar straight line. “I do not know why I did not ask these questions right from the moment I heard of the accident.”

“You may have been thinking solely of your loss.” She knew she was being bold—even for a wife—in the midst of the walkway, but she put her hand up to his cheek and stroked it. “Cameron, do not curry your head. Self-flagellation is worthless at any time, especially now. I know you will do all you can to find the truth.”

“For that, I will need your help.”

“You need only ask.”

He pressed his mouth to her hand, then whispered, “You have not asked what and how I need you to help.”

“That does not matter.” Looking at where the boys were down on their hands and knees searching through the grass for worms, she said, “An appalling crime may have been done against their father, and I will do what I can to help bring your brother's murderer to justice.”

Tipping her face back toward his, he said, “Eustace told me—”

“What Eustace Knox has to say does not concern me.”

“Tess, you must set aside your antipathy toward him. I do not understand why you hate him so much.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “Do you blame him for this predicament we find ourselves in?”

“The predicament of our marriage? Yes, I do blame him for it.”

“Blame your father as well, for none of us seemed to have a bit of sense that night.” Again the inward expression filled his eyes. “So why did the vicar perform the ceremony? I should have asked that before.”

“Mayhap you should have.” She longed to blurt out the truth, but her pledge to Papa halted her.

Cameron lowered his hand and said, “Although you may hate the source of this counsel, I believe it is wise. You must join me in attending Lord Peake's assembly next week.”

“How can you plan to attend a gathering when your brother is so recently deceased? Yes, we are out of first mourning, but to attend such a party? Certainly that will cause quite a hullabaloo among the
ton.

He took her by the shoulders and held her gaze with his fervent one. “That is exactly what I hope. If there is enough babble about the most outrageous Duke and Duchess of Hawkington, people will focus on that instead of the questions I will be seeking answers to.”

“Do you believe I wish to be part of another deception?”

“I believe you have no more interest in it than I do, but I know this is what we must do, Tess, if there is any chance in discovering the truth about who was blackmailing my brother and why.” His jaw tightened. “And who killed him.”

Fourteen

Tess eased the bedroom door closed behind her. Mrs. Detloff could not hide her conviction Tess was spoiling the boys by coming to tuck them in each night, but Tess did not want to have the children believe they had been abandoned again. Some days during the past week, the only time she had had with the boys was when they were on their way to bed. She had not guessed having a single dress made would be so complicated and take so much time. An uneasy sensation deep within her warned nothing would be simple now she was married to a duke.

Although the ceremony to invest him with the title of his father and brother had yet to be held, she knew it was little more than a formality. The modiste had fluttered about the shop as if she had no more weight than one of her glorious silks, so excited at the idea of making a dress for a duchess to wear to this large gathering. Tess wanted to ask why the seamstress was so determined to have every inch of the dress perfect when there would be more than a hundred other guests. She did not bother, because she knew the answer. No matter the number of guests, everyone would take note of what a duchess wore.

She leaned back against the door to the boys' rooms as she wondered if everyone would also take note of how this duchess's knees trembled at the very thought of going among the
beau monde
. Cameron was right. She was a country bumpkin, better suited to a church fair than an assembly. So why, if she was so anxious about this gathering, was she looking forward to it with eagerness?

Trying to tell herself she might be able to obtain answers about why both her father and Russell had been paying an extortionist was silly. She would help Cameron try to find the truth about his brother, because she hoped it would lead as well to the truth about Papa. But that was not why she trembled with anticipation whenever she thought of going to this gathering. It was the thought of dancing with Cameron, of being in his arms for the length of a waltz. The very thought sent shivers of delight coursing through her. Mayhap it was madness, but she could not help it. She was falling in love with this man she had every reason to hate.

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