“Julius Parker, my lord,” the man acknowledged, his eyes glittering with desperation. “I’m here about the major.”

“Release him,” Carter commanded, and the three servants reluctantly let go.

Parker tugged down his jacket and straightened his shoulders. “There’s been trouble and I’ve got nowhere else to turn. The major’s gone missing. I went to the pub looking for him earlier, and one of the barmaids told me there’d been a fight. A nasty group of blokes started brawling, and the major landed in the thick of it. Four men against one.”

“Was Roddy the one?” Dorothea asked with dread.

“Aye. But that’s not the worst of it. They dragged him out of the tavern after they knocked him out, and the barmaid said she heard them laughing about the money they would earn when they turned him over to the navy.”

“Impressment?” Carter frowned. “That’s been outlawed for several years,”

Parker’s nostrils flared. “When the need is there, laws mean nothing to some, even those in His Majesty’s Navy.”

“Perhaps the woman was mistaken,” Dorothea suggested. “Perhaps the major has gone somewhere of his own accord.”

Parker shook his head adamantly. “He’s never been gone this long without telling me. And anyway, if he had left Town of his own free will, he would have taken this with him.”

The servant reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was worn and faded, the ink smudged. Since she was the nearest, Dorothea gingerly accepted the missive. Squinting hard, she read the salutation. “’Tis written to you, Your Grace.”

With a snort of annoyance, the duke glanced down at the letter, but his eyes soon grew wide. “It’s penned in Emily’s hand.”

No one stirred as the duke read the short note. When he finished, he lifted his head. Dorothea swore her heart skipped a beat, for the duke looked as if he had just taken a sharp blow to the gut.

“She begs my understanding and forgiveness for her lie,” the duke whispered, despair on his face. “She thought it best to keep it from me, but as she neared her death, she reconsidered and wanted me to know the truth. The child she bore was not a girl, it was a boy.”

“Roddy?” Dorothea choked out.

“Yes. The major is my son.”

The duke’s words hung in the air, and then the realization seemed to hit Carter full force. He sprang toward his father, his expression urgent. “We must help him.” Carter turned to Parker. “Do you have any idea where Roddington was taken?”

“There’s only one naval ship in port. I tried to talk my way on board, but got nowhere. That’s why I’m here. I figured a man with a title would have a better chance.”

All eyes turned to the duke.

He shook himself visibly out of his stupor. “Have the coach brought around immediately,” he commanded, motioning for Carter to follow. “We’re going to the docks.”

Curses and shouts followed in the wake of the duke’s carriage as it was driven through the London streets at a reckless speed. Pedestrians and vehicles alike scrambled to avoid getting run down, for it was obvious the large black coach would give no quarter. The three male passengers inside careened from side to side, yet miraculously kept their seats.

The duke periodically thrust his head out of the window, demanding that the coachman drive faster, agreeing to a safer pace only when the pungent, briny odor of the sea assaulted their nostrils.

If the circumstances had not been so grave, Carter might have broken into a grin. His father was in prime ducal form as he led the charge up the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship, eyes blazing. The young sailor standing watch flushed a molten, blotchy red as he tried in vain to stop them.

The officer who was called to assist was soon reduced to a similar state, visibly wilting under the duke’s verbal assault. It began with a threat to have him stripped of his rank and dismissed in disgrace from His Majesty’s Navy and ended with a promise to have the poor fellow transported to a penal colony. Clapped in irons.

Roddy appeared on deck two minutes later.

Carter’s stomach rolled with concern when he first saw him. The major’s left eye was swollen and his bottom lip split, but he was able to stand on his own and walk without any visible effects.

Roddington’s face registered surprise when he saw who had secured his release. For an instant he looked as if he might reject the help, but the alternative was obviously unthinkable.

“My coach is waiting,” the duke announced.

If not for the presence of his servant, Carter doubted that Roddington would have gotten into the coach. Whatever Parker said tipped the scales, and as the servant climbed up on top of the box next to the driver, the major placed himself on the seat beside Carter. The duke was already regally situated on the opposite seat.

Roddington said nothing on the ride back. But he listened.

Dorothea had practically worn a path down the center of the drawing room carpet by the time she heard the front door open. Forgoing any attempt at dignity, she fairly flew down the staircase just in time to catch the sight of the duke and another man disappearing into his private study.

“Carter?”

The marquess turned and smiled at his wife, his face weary, yet pleased. “Everything is fine, my love.”

“Was that Roddy? Did you find him?”

“Yes, thank God. I vow the duke would have torn the ship apart plank by plank if they had not produced him when they did.”

“And now?”

Carter shrugged. “It wasn’t easy, but the duke persuaded Roddington to come here.”

“Is he staying?” Dorothea asked hopefully.

Before Carter could voice his opinion, the study door opened and the major strode out. He halted in mid-step when he saw them, his eyes lowering a fraction.

“I believe I owe you both an apology,” the major said sheepishly. “I was far from honest when we first met, and that I truly regret.”

“No matter,” Carter replied. “We understand the circumstances were difficult for you.”

Dorothea moved forward and hugged him. “Will you stay for a while? As you may have noticed, we have plenty of room. I vow there are more bedchambers in this house than I can count.”

The major slowly shook his head. “I can’t. But I thank you for the offer.”

Dorothea gave him another hug, wishing there was something she could do or say to change his mind. It seemed so very sad to be losing him now that they knew the truth.

Carter extended his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Roddy took it. Dorothea’s eyes welled with tears. How very different both their lives would have been if Emily had not lied. Carter would have had the brother he always craved and Roddy the family he needed.

“Do you have any idea where you are headed?” Dorothea questioned as they walked to the front door.

“None at all.”

Roddy smiled, and she could see that a weight had been lifted, a burden destroyed. For that at least, she was grateful.

“Will you at least write to us?” Carter asked.

“I’ll try.”

And with that, Roddy turned and walked away.

“We’ll be arriving at Ravenswood shortly, my dear. Turn around so I can fasten the back of your gown properly.”

Dorothea shifted her head lazily and glanced at her husband. He sat beside her in the coach, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in sight, every button neatly and properly fastened while she was sprawled next to him, her garments in complete disarray.

How did he manage it?

Not ten minutes earlier they had been locked in a carnal embrace, with Dorothea’s skirts bunched up around her waist and Carter’s coat, waistcoat, cravat, and shirt tossed on the floor. They had been greedy for each other, straining and quivering, a tangle of devouring kisses, sensual caresses, and exploding passions.

Their bodies had swayed with the movement of the carriage, heightening the intensity of their lovemaking, but it had been the tender words of love Carter whispered in her ear that made the experience truly remarkable for Dorothea.

“If I had known that being ravaged inside a moving coach was so incredibly satisfying, I would have insisted that we do this the first time we journeyed to Ravenswood,” she said, trailing her finger over the sculpted planes of her husband’s cheek and jaw. Goodness, he was a handsome man.

“That was my fault,” Carter replied with an easy grin. “I misjudged you, something I vow to never do again.”

She smiled, a deep sense of happiness rippling through her. She presented Carter her back and he deftly buttoned her gown. The carriage slowed, turned, and bounced over a rut. The movement brought Dorothea’s attention to the window.

The manor house came into view and she felt a jolt of excitement. By the time the carriage rumbled to a halt at the front door she was nearly bouncing in her seat.

“We’re home,” she announced.

Carter descended from the carriage first, then turned and lifted her out. Dorothea took a deep breath and savored it all. The warmth of the sun, the welcome in the servants’ smiles, the joyful barks of her darling puppy-oh, my, he had grown.

But what she cherished most of all was the love in Carter’s eyes.

Epilogue

A year later


The celebration for the Duke of Hansborough’s sixtieth birthday started the London social Season with a bang. It was by far the most sought-after invitation in anyone’s recent memory. Favors were called in, alliances forged, and begging of proportions heretofore unheard of were employed as people jockeyed to have their names included among the guests. Those lucky enough to receive one of the exclusive invitations crowed about it for weeks, knowing they had secured their position as one of the ton’s elite.