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“Or maybe they just wanted to have a quick and easy line of succession rather than digging through the weeds of Debrett’s and hashing it all out in the Lords.” The look on Frederick’s face made it clear how likely he thought that was. “I don’t know how you thought you were going to accomplish that in America.”
“It’s called biding my time, you complacent moron,” Adam spat. “I just had to watch and wait for things to sort themselves out.
Frederick shrugged. “So what if it did? The estate would still remain with Henry, the second son, would it not?”
“Only if Rupert left a will,” Adam said. “Which he did not.”
“And now that Henry is just about gone, we’re not wasting the opportunity to set things right. Anyway, Kendal is one of the oldest Dukedoms in England. The queen wouldn’t have wanted it to die out. Nor would she want one of the oldest fortunes in the world to go to the wrong man.”
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” I finally found my voice. “You don’t really care about the title. You care about the money.”
Adam’s eyes rolled. “Well, of course I care about the money, Frankie. Who wouldn’t care about a net worth of eight billion dollars?”
My jaw dropped. I’d known Xavier was rich, that his family was one of the wealthiest in England. But I hadn’t known it rivaled the GDP of a small nation.
“It’s a moot point, regardless of what you, Mother, and Aunt Caroline think,” Frederick replied, turning to me. “Xavier Parker is the Duke of Kendal and will be until his death. And so it will die with him unless he has a legitimate son of his own.”
“Rupert didn’t think Xavier would inherit,” Adam claimed. “He knew it would be you or me, especially since he couldn’t have any more children himself. And since he was a freaking anti-Semite on top of everything else, he married Georgina to give you a greater claim when the time came. You know and I know. It was Henry that changed the plan. It was always Henry’s doing. And I’m going to find the evidence if it’s the last thing I do.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ileft the garden as soon as I could in search of Xavier, but he was nowhere to be found. He was no longer with his uncle. The office was empty, his bedroom too. He wasn’t exactly prone to using any of the sitting rooms, drawing rooms, or the library on the estate, but I checked all of them regardless. Nothing.
What I wanted to say, I wasn’t exactly sure. Mostly, I was full of questions.
Why hadn’t he told me that he and Adam were somehow related? Did that have anything to do with the animosity that so obviously burned between them, even in New York, when they’d pretended to barely know each other in front of me? Why the lies? Why the deception?
More than that, however, I wanted to know if Xavier was aware of the plan to…what? I honestly wasn’t sure of the word here. Dethrone him? No, he wasn’t royalty. De-duke, then. Did he know that several members of his own family were actively working to undermine his authority and inheritance? What was he doing about it?
Or maybe, that was the reason he had stayed away all these years anyway?
I honestly didn’t know. But I needed to find out. More than that, I needed to know how I fit into all of it myself.
“Gibson!” I called when I spotted the butler laying out silverware in the dining room. “Do you know where Xavier is?”
There were nine places in all—three for us, another for Elsie, and likely two for Frederick and Georgina. I assumed Imogene had gone home, but was Adam staying? Was it for his mother? Her husband too? No doubt, it would be the world’s most awkward dinner.
“His Grace chose not to partake of dinner today,” said the butler with a wrinkled nose, answering my silent question. “He wished to prepare it himself instead.”
It was clear by the way he said it that he could not be more mortified by the idea of a duke doing his own cooking. But all I could think wasof course. Xavier was stressed. And what was more therapeutic for him than food? What brought him more peace than that?
“Thanks, Gibson,” I said, then turned on my heel before stopping almost immediately. “Er, could you point me toward the kitchen? I don’t know where it is.”
I swore the butler rolled his eyes. It was hard to tell since that was basically his perennial expression.
“Of course, miss,” he said, setting down the last salad fork. “Follow me.”
* * *
There were actuallytwo kitchens at Corbray Hall, a fact that shouldn’t have surprised me. A smaller, modern one had been constructed about twenty years ago just below the family’s main living quarters, outfitted with the few things a duke might need to make himself a midnight cup of tea or something like that. One glance told me that not only was Xavier not there, but he also never used it. The cupboards were stocked with all types of diet foods, nonfat milk in the fridge, and bits and pieces of highly processed snacks I’d never known Xavier, the ultimate food snob, to eat. This was clearly Georgina’s domain.
Gibson then led me to a cavernous space in the bowels of the estate, which was really more like three kitchens in one, though I doubted it was used that way unless they were hosting a truly enormous gathering.
Multiple Wolf stoves and ovens lay around the periphery of the kitchen, while an island the size of Ireland covered with soapstone sat in the middle. My daughter was sitting atop that, hands in a bowl of something she was mixing with her father.
“Thanks, Gibson,” I murmured to the butler, who hurried off as if to avoid sullying his eyes at the sight of the duke up to his elbows in flour.
Xavier stood next to Sofia, kneading a lump of dough firmly into the soapstone.
