As she was riding home, the carriage bumping gently over the ruts in the road, she turned the pages until she found Ireland. She rather liked the shape of it, all flat in the east, then seeming to reach out its arms toward the Atlantic in the west.

She would ask Thomas about the trip the next time she saw him. Surely he would not leave the country without telling her.

She closed her eyes, picturing his face, conveniently editing out his blackened eye. They had entered a new chapter in their relationship. Of this she was certain.

She still did not know why Thomas had been drinking the night before, but she told herself that she did not care. All that mattered was that it had led him to her, and perhaps her to herself.

She’d woken up. After years of sleepwalking, she’d woken up.

Chapter 13

Four days later

After his initial shock, Thomas realized that his grandmother had been right about one thing. A trip to Ireland was the only solution to their dilemma. The truth must come out, no matter how unpleasant. Mr. Audley might, with the proper encouragement, be willing to forgo his claim on the title (although Thomas doubted the dowager would allow that to happen). But Thomas knew that he could never find peace if he did not know who he really was. And he did not think he could continue in his position if he knew it rightly belonged to another.

Had his entire life been a lie? Had he never been the Duke of Wyndham, never been the heir to it, even? This would mean—well, truly, this was the only amusing part of it all—his father had never been the duke, either. It was almost enough to make him wish his father alive again, just to see his reaction.

Thomas wondered if they would have to change the inscription on his gravestone. Probably.

He wandered into the small saloon at the front of the house and poured himself a drink. He might actually enjoy erasing the title from his father’s marker, he thought. It was good to know there might be some amusement in all this.

Thomas walked to the window and gazed outside. He came here quite frequently when he wished for solitude. He could get that in his office, of course, but there he was surrounded by ledgers and correspondence—reminders of tasks still incomplete. Here, he could simply think.

He supposed he disliked his cousin slightly less than he had before—in the four days since he’d found him in the drawing room with Amelia, their conversations had been perfectly civil—but he still found him hopelessly unserious. He knew that Audley was once a military officer, and as such must have had to exercise caution and judgment, but Thomas still had grave doubts about his ability to apply himself with the diligence necessary to run a dukedom.