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CHAPTERSIXTEEN
One of the advantages of being in the country on an estate was the amount of land at his disposal to ride.
He’d been out on one of Boxby’s geldings all morning, attempting to work out the frustration that had settled deep in his bones.
The picturesque landscape of rolling hills dotted with trees, leaves turned to vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows, had done little to quell his mounting frustration. And no amount of exercise seemed to do the trick either.
Holding Emily close, feeling her come apart in his arms had only made him want her more.
He handed over the horse to the groom and then made his way inside, intent upon a bath and then…
He didn’t know. Wallowing? Possibly. Daydreaming? Most certainly. He was normally a man of action but much as he tried to think of a solution, he just couldn’t find one to his problem with Emily.
How did he make her his forever? It simply wasn’t possible.
With a growl of frustration, he strode into the kitchen and started for the back stairs when the butler came out of the butler’s pantry, snapping to attention at the sight of Ace. “Lord Smith,” the man called, giving a short bow. “A letter has arrived for you.”
A letter? Was it from one of his brothers? His stomach tightened with worry. Had something happened at one of the clubs?
The butler held out a tray, Ace instantly recognizing the seal as the Earl of Easton’s. East. Had East and the other lords that ran the Den of Sins cleared the city of the thieves already?
Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to his room, closing the door behind him as he broke open the seal with the letter opener.
The first line stopped his breath.
The Marquess of Devonhall, the man he claimed to be the heir of, had died.
This was it.
His end had finally come. Ace looked to the ceiling saying a silent prayer of thanks that he’d funded the club and that he had not married Emily. He could be content in prison knowing that the people he loved most all had a future.
And from his cell, he’d not have to witness Emily marry another.
He pulled out the desk chair and sat, prepared to face whatever East said next.
But as he continued scanning down the letter, his eyes widened in surprise, his heart pounding in his ears.
It is with the highest regard that I’d like to inform you that I have every intention of supporting your claim to the marquessate. You have proven yourself a man of honor and integrity and with my support, the man who would receive the title in your place, I’m certain any rumors or doubt will be silenced.
He dropped the letter, blinking several times to try and clear his mind. Had he read that right? Did he actually understand? East’s support of his claim would stop any potential investigation from the king. Ace was certain of that. East was the man who would benefit the most if Ace’s claim was questioned, so his support meant everything.
He picked up the missive again, his hand shaking, certain that he’d read it wrong only to have his first impression confirmed.
His gaze blurred as he rubbed a hand down his face. East was publicly supporting him.
He’d never imagined…
Never even considered that the earl would give up the title of marquess for his illegitimate brother. It was too much to ask. Too much to hope for.
But here it was.
As a marquess, anything was possible. His sisters were about to become ladies. His brothers lords, and Emily…
Emily was going to be his.
He rose again, determined to share the news with Boxby and ask permission to court Emily. Seek out her hand.
He’d made it two steps toward the door when a knock halted his steps.
