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Ralph scrubbed his hair. “Despite Her Majesty’s assurance that she simply wanted the truth, I don’t have a great deal of hard evidence.”
“And it would have been stronger to bring her a case of guilt,” Wyatt added.
“Exactly.”
“But why?” Marcus added.
Wyatt shrugged. “Bringing in criminals gains everyone’s support. Proving innocence is less satisfying.”
The room fell silent.
“Does this mean she may not grant you the earldom?” Baron Winchester asked.
Ralph shook his head. “I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Wyatt scrubbed at his chin. “I’m going with you to the palace this time. They can tell you in front of another lord of the realm that you’re not worthy.”
“I will as well,” Mr. Melby added.
“As will I.” Baron Winchester nodded.
Ralph’s chest filled with gratitude. He might not have gained a title, but he had found something even more valuable—a family. One that judged him on his merits rather than his birth.
“You know,” Wyatt said, raising his finger. “Clara and Priscilla have friends with powerful husbands. The Duke of Durham, the Earl of Westmoreland, the Baron Brightmore. I’m sure they’d all go in your support as well.”
Ralph shook his head. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” Wyatt smiled at his brother.
“I shall write to the palace myself to request the interview.” Baron Winchester pulled out a sheet of paper and then dipped his quill in the ink. “After breakfast, we’ll write out your opinions and how you formed them.”
Gratitude settled in Ralph’s chest. No matter what happened, this was his place in the world. He’d found his future. And the woman who’d share it with him every day.
