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“I’ve already sent an associate to speak with the constable,” Reginald said, “but I’m not entirely sure justice has been served yet.”
Marcella watched Blaire’s face for any flash of regret or guilt, but there was nothing except a cautious sort of concern. Simon, on the other hand, had begun fidgeting. For the first time ever, a red flush spread across his pale skin.
“What do you mean?” the Duke asked.
“When I encountered the villains, one of them revealed that they’d beensentafter me,” Reginald said. “By a woman named Blaire Danvers.”
Blaire gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “Surely, there must be some other woman named Blaire involved. Do you know a woman in Southwark, perhaps, with my name?”
“I don’t,” Reginald replied carefully, “and although it pains me to say it, I’ve come to realize that I have every reason to suspect your involvement.”
“What?” exclaimed the Duke. “Reginald, your aunt has only ever been kind to us.”
Reginald’s eyes snapped to his father. “Yes, she seemed that way. But it does seem odd that right after Marcella and I quarreled, those villains justhappenedto appear in Southwark with the knowledge of who I was. Then, they justhappenedto claim that a woman named Blaire Danvers wanted them to attack me. I think that’s too many coincidences, don’t you?”
The Duke blinked, taken aback. “Blaire?” he asked.
Blaire’s smile wavered, and she shook her head. “I agree it sounds outlandish, but I had no involvement in any of it! I assure you of that. I have only ever wished for your happiness.”
Beside her, Simon seemed to grow somehow stiller. It was as if he was some soft, woodland animal caught in the gaze of a more aggressive predator, and he thought that if he didn’t move, he wouldn’t be noticed.
“It also seems like too great of a coincidence that at the same time you revealed Reginald’s reasons for marrying me, Simon revealed my deception to my husband,” Marcella said.
“It was a slip of the tongue,” Blaire insisted, rising. “I’m sorry for everything that has happened, but I cannot believe that you would blame it all on me. I—I will take my leave at once. Simon—”
“I’m tired of lying, Mother,” Simon replied.
Marcella blinked, taken aback. Simon shifted uncomfortably, his gaze wandering the room. “It’s been her since the beginning,” Simon said.
Blaire froze, looking as if someone had crossed the room and slapped her. “Simon, you don’t know what you’re speaking of. This is—”
“I would like to hear what he has to say,” the Duke of Mavis said sternly.
“As would I,” Reginald agreed.
Marcella straightened, her heart thundering in her chest. Could it really be true, thatBlairehad been a villain all along?
Simon clasped his hands over his knees. “Mother always wanted the title of Duchess of Mavis, and she thought that if I was the Marquess of Hurrow, she’d be closer to His Grace.”
“Stop,” Blaire whispered. “Simon, you don’t—”
“Is that true?” the Duke asked.
Blaire shook her head, but her face reddened. “No, this—this is slander! And from my own son!”
Simon rose, his posture stiff and angry. “Call it what you like, Mother. It’s true, and it has been since the beginning. Cousin,” Simon said, turning to Reginald. “The night you left—I’m sorry.”
“You left?” Duke Mavis asked. “This whole time, I assumed you’d been—been abducted by some scoundrels. You left?”
Marcella held her breath, waiting for the answer. Reginald set his shoulders and nodded stiffly. “I felt I wasn’t good enough for the Marquisate and the Duchy, so I left.”
“And I helped persuade you,” Simon said. “I said that he ought to, but I was just repeating what my mother told me. I know I—I know we will never be friends, you and I. We’re too different, and every time I try to be friendly with you, I never come across as kind. But I felt so guilty when you left. That wasn’t a lie.”
Reginald shrugged. “It matters little. This was ten years ago.”
“But it does matter,” the Duke said. “This is my fault. If I’d encouraged you more, you wouldn’t have felt the need to leave.”
“What’s done is done,” Reginald said.
