Mr. de Silva, the illegitimate son of a duke. “My mother’s name.”

“Yes,” the solicitor confirmed. “Your mother and your father were not legitimately married, because British law states that a man may not marry the sister of his widow. And your mother was the late duchess’s sister, not her cousin, as she’d told your father.” The man cleared his throat. “It’s all detailed in the letters she wrote aboard ship.”

“Of course she lied,” Sebastian said bitterly. He’d always known his mother to be a scheming, heartless creature; her treatment of Ana Maria, his older half sister, proved that. He hadn’t known she’d also been a liar.

At least she was consistent in her behavior, he thought humorlessly.

He leaned forward to look at the proof, the seemingly innocuous papers that lay on the solicitor’s desk. Yellow, faded, and ragged around the edges, they were proof positive that Sebastian’s parents’ marriage was illegal. He recognized his mother’s handwriting. And her duplicity.

“Where did these come from?” Sebastian demanded. He couldn’t succumb to the dark hole that was threatening to engulf him. He had to keep asking questions, to find out what happened so he could understand. If it was possible to make sense of it at all.

The solicitor placed his hands flat on his desk, spreading his fingers wide. “They were found in the duchess’s vault box. That is, your late mother.” Since she wasn’t actually the duchess. “Letters she wrote, but apparently never mailed. We discovered them after the accident.”

The carriage accident that took both his parents’ lives.

“But that was over six months ago,” Thaddeus pointed out. “How is it that these are just coming to light now?”

“It takes time to review all the paperwork after such an event,” the solicitor said in a defensive tone. “And we needed to translate the letters,” he added.

“Why would your mother lie?” Thaddeus said, turning his intense stare toward Sebastian. “There was no practical reason to hide the relationship.”

Thaddeus, ever practical. Always searching for the reason in things. Whereas Sebastian never searched, things just arrived. Like his title, wealth, standing in society, women, and friends.

It was astonishing how quickly one’s entire world could be upended. All in the time it took for the solicitor to explain how Sebastian’s mother’s letters detailed every last subterfuge.

“My mother was ambitious,” Sebastian replied. Unable to keep the animosity from his tone. “She probably persuaded the late duchess that there was some reason to keep their relationship a secret—maybe it would have reflected badly on the family for a sister to act as a companion.” He shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. Of course it mattered. “The point is that I am not the duke.” He raked his hands through his hair, anger coursing through his veins.