Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(48)

“That’s good news, I suppose,” Jason said.

“Based on the possible connections with the Speaker of the House,” Lynford said, “I’m investigating Sir Misray, Lord Blakely, and Lord Henry.”

Somersby released a low whistle. “What would those men have to gain from joining in with such a plan?”

“Money, I would guess,” Lynford said. “Someone out there has been funding all of this, Isabel’s schooling, not to mention keeping someone inside the government; that takes a heavy purse.”

“Lord Blakely has a substantial income,” Somersby said.

Lynford nodded. “All three of these men do, but his is certainly the largest.”

If these men were the ones after his wife, Jason would do whatever it took to reveal them as traitors.

He’d start with Lord Blakely.





Chapter Thirteen


Jason made his way back to his townhouse only to find his brother waiting in his study for him.

“Patrick, I didn’t realize you were still in London, I thought you mentioned returning to the country for a while,” Jason said.

“I wasn’t. I made a special trip.” Irritation edged his brother’s usual even tone, giving it a sharper note.

“Something wrong?”

“I should say so,” Patrick said. “I received a visit from Mr. Sandifer, and he had a most interesting tale to tell me.”

Damnation.

This was not how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to happen in the event of Jason’s death. He had a mind to fire that damned solicitor. Shortly after Jason had married Isabel, he’d contacted their family solicitor and had papers drawn up dictating that, should he produce an heir with his wife, the title and estate should still be left to his nephew, Jonathon. Mr. Sandifer had told him at the time that such a document would likely not stand up legally to the laws that mandated inheritance, but Jason had insisted the man create the document.

“Let me explain,” Jason said.

Patrick held up his hand, closed his eyes, and took a steadying breath. “I don’t want to hear your explanation. I have tried to be patient with you, Jason, about all this nonsense. But it seems that no amount of time or patience ever makes a difference. You are the only one who cares about the details of your birth, and you’re allowing that to cloud everything in your life.”

“You know?” Jason asked. He sank into a chair, allowing his brother’s words to settle into his mind.

“Of course. Do you think Mother and Father would not tell me the truth as well?”

“I don’t know.” Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “I never even considered—”

“No, you did not. You never considered anything, save how you felt about the situation.”

“You are the rightful heir. The estate should go to your son,” Jason said.

“No, it should not. You are the viscount. Right or wrong, it is how our parents decided on it. It is not our place to undo that. The news would create rumors about my own birth. It would destroy Mother, not to mention my family and me. Our father was well respected and well loved, as is our mother now. Can you not simply let things be?”

Jason had no answer. He didn’t know why he could never let this go. In his mind, it was the one thing that defined him, for better or for worse. He could still hear Tom, his real father’s words ringing in his ears: you can’t run away from who you are.

“Jason, do you not understand that I have the life that I want? I love my family as it is. I have no desire to be viscount, and I certainly don’t want that for my son. We enjoy the serenity and simplicity of the countryside. We are well provided for, and we are happy.” He braced his hands on the desk. “You have a wife now. Build your family, produce your own heir. And leave this nonsense in the past,” he said, tossing the parchment onto the occasional table.

“Any heir of mine will not be legitimate, either,” Jason said.

“Not legitimate in your eyes only.” Patrick sighed, and his features softened. “Jason, I know that this is difficult for you. But you simply must stop punishing yourself for something you never did. You deserve to be viscount. You’re certainly a hell of a lot better at it than I would be. And neither myself nor my son will be taking the title from you. I need you to understand that.” He gripped Jason’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Your new wife is lovely.”

“Yes, she is.”

“And this makes you angry?”

“No, it is not that. I have not been particularly kind to her.”

Patrick nodded. “Marriage is not always easy, but I can see that you love her already.”

It was on his tongue to protest.

The clock on the mantle struck the hour. “I have to get back on the road before night falls. You and Isabel should come visit when you get an opportunity.”

“We’d like that.”

We. But there wasn’t truly a we. They weren’t much of a couple, and that was all his fault.

Patrick left, and Jason sank back into his chair. Maybe his brother was right. He needed to simply give up on his desire to leave his nephew his title. Patrick seemed sincere in not wanting any part of it. Which left producing an heir up to him. Perhaps nothing would come of it.

He knew one thing for certain, he wanted his wife, and consummating their relationship, allowing himself to love her body would right his thoughts and make him forget the ridiculous notion of being in love with her.