Page 88 of The Duke of Deceit

But Lucien shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Jess knew better, simply from looking at him. He wore his exquisite day clothes like a uniform, dressed spotlessly in a black coat over a dark blue waistcoat and tan trousers, boots so highly polished that she could see his reflection in them, and a diamond pin in his intricately knotted cravat. He looked formal and impressive, every inch a duke…except for when he tugged off his gloves and tossed them casually onto the table, followed by his beaver hat.His broad back was toward her so she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew well the impertinent gleam she would have seen there.

“Well, then, Lord Trenmear, I’ll begin,” Lucien said. “But first, let me reacquaint you with my friends, the Dukes of Dartmoor and Greysmere, who are here to lend their support in my request to the committee.”

He turned toward the door as two tall, broad-shouldered men strode into the room, each dressed as finely as Lucien and each man just as tall, broad, and solid. A hush fell over the lords at the table, their eyes widening in surprise. All their amusement vanished as if the air had been sucked from the room.

The two men stopped directly behind Lucien and crossed their arms in unison as they gazed back inscrutably at the startled committee. Together, they formed a wall of muscle, fortune, and status—No, they formed an impenetrable force, one to be reckoned with.

The committee knew it, too, from the way low whispers went up around the table. It was one thing for them to be dismissive and condescending to Lucien; it was something entirely different when faced with two other dukes who were among the most powerful peers in the realm.

Trenmear’s expression turned hard. “What is it you want, Crewe?”

“I have a request for the committee to consider regarding the Dukedom of Crewe. I’ve been caught up in a situation beyond my control that affects the dukedom, one I will admit I should have brought to the committee’s attention years ago. For that I take full responsibility, as I was only doing what I thought was best to protect the dukedom and my family.”

“For that, we’re here to support him in every way,” the Duke of Dartmoor interjected.

“Including vouching for his good will and character,” the Duke of Greysmere added.

Not one of the lords dared laugh at Greysmere’s mention of Lucien’s good will.

“My request concerns my family. I have a brother named Phillip,” Lucien announced, his spine impossibly straight. He paused for emphasis. “Anolderbrother.”

Jess’s heart stopped, and when it finally lurched back to life, the resulting pounding was so brutal that she winced as she pressed her fist against her chest to keep it from exploding. Oh, she’d been so wrong! This meeting wasn’t about Henry—it was about Lucien and his attempt to purify his reputation. He was bringing all his secrets into the light, revealing the ghosts, and risking everything. A sickening knot tied itself in her belly, and she couldn’t have said on her life if it were relief, anguish, or apprehension, because she knew why he was doing this…

Because of her.

“Breathe, dear,” Auntie whispered and squeezed her hand. “It will do him no good whatsoever if you faint.”

No, it wouldn’t. But sitting there silently did him no good either because none of the men around the table seemed at all pleased at what he was attempting to tell them. Or what he truly meant by it. She could read the truth in their expressions that they weren’t convinced Lucien wasn’t pulling some kind of joke.

“We know that,” a gray-haired man who showed his age by wearing a coat twenty years out of fashion spoke up. “I remember when it happened. The duchess was devastated because her baby died shortly after birth.”

“No, he didn’t.”

The entire room seemed to catch its shocked breath, including Jess. She stared at Lucien’s back, wishing she could see his face, wishing she could make eye contact with him…wishing she could help him however she could. But he was too far away.

When she began to rise from her chair to go to him, Aunt Matilda placed her hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down.“No.”

“I need to be at his side,” she pleaded, her worry making it impossible to speak louder than a breath.

“Your time will come. Right now, he needs to fight this battle alone.”

Matilda was right. Jess knew it, even if she didn’t like it. So she sat on the edge of the chair, her fingers gripping the wooden seat beneath her so tightly she was certain they’d turned white, and bit her bottom lip between her teeth.

“My brother Phillip suffers from a condition that makes it impossible for him to carry out the duties required of a peer of the realm,” Lucien explained. “My father, the late Duke of Crewe, wanted to protect the dukedom, so he sent Phillip away when he was a baby, to be raised away from our family, without anyone knowing he was alive. When I came along a few years later, the dukedom finally had an heir who could eventually oversee it.” His spine remained ramrod straight, and not a trace of guilt was audible in his voice. “So we all went along as if Phillip never existed. But that situation can no longer continue.”

Lucien nodded at Henry, who stepped forward to quickly hand out sheets of papers to the men gathered around the table.

“The papers Mr. Graham is handing you contain my request to your committee,” Lucien explained. “I want to petition the Crown for a special remainder to be created to the writ and letters patent for the dukedom regarding the inheritance of the title. Because of the delicacy of the situation, I need to start with you, my lords. Your support of the petition will allow it to proceed out of your committee and become an appeal for an Act of Parliament that supports such a change. Hopefully then, the Prince Regent will grant my petition.”

Quiet rumblings and mumblings rose up from around the table as the lords scanned the papers in disbelief.

“Those papers also contain a list of precedents involving competency and inheritance which you might find helpful.” Lucien paused, then murmured, “And God save King George during his own illness and time of struggle…and the prince regent who so skillfully guides us in His Majesty’s place.”

Jess’s stunned mouth slammed shut at that wholly blatant reminder that the mad king had been effectively removed from power, if not from the throne. After all, if Parliament could appoint a prince regent to rule in place of a king, then they could certainly do the same for a duke and not have to attaint the title. Her gaze scoured the men’s faces to judge from their expressions if they were at all sympathetic to Lucien’s situation…or if he’d just condemned himself by trusting them.

Lord Trenmear placed the papers down on the table in front of him, pointed at Jess and Matilda in the rear corner, then swept a hand in the air as if to swat them away from clear across the room. The two women had been ignored but never forgotten. “This is a topic for a closed meeting.” He added in a mutter beneath his breath, “If ever there was one.”

“I would like them to stay,” Lucien argued. “Miss Davidson and Miss St Claire are both aware of my situation.”