“No, Thomas, I don’t know, not really.”
“I think someplace deep inside you, William, you know. It’s simply too painful to admit it. Everything is going to come clear soon enough.” He took his half-brother’s hand. “It will be all right. No matter what the truth is, I won’t let you stand alone. Trust me.”
William looked pale as death; slowly he nodded.
Tysen awakened Jeremy, helped Mary Rose fasten her gown, then herded the three of them to the dining room. Barnacle, Cook, and Mrs. Black were there as well, lined up like troops ready to be deployed.
Thomas said without preamble, “Aunt Libby, who is William’s father?”
“His father was the earl of Lancaster, Thomas. He is a Malcombe, just as you are a Malcombe. The only pity here is that he is the younger, not you. He could have been the earl, not you, but Madeleine came along too quickly. That was an impertinent question. You will apologize.”
“Mother, it’s too late now,” William said quietly and laid his hand on her shoulder. He was ready to face it now, had to be ready. He added, his voice thick, “Mother, please, it’s time for the truth. If for no one else, then for me.”
“My dear boy, Thomas is lying. Your father is the earl of Lancaster.”
“Aunt Libby,” Thomas said patiently, “you know that neither William nor I in any way resemble the earl of Lancaster. Both of us look more like our mothers than anyone else. It is up to you, ma’am. Who is William’s father, Aunt Libby? Tell us now. Tell William now. There’s really not much time. Meggie’s gone and we must find her before it is too late.”
She stubbornly shook her head.
“Madam,” Tysen said, rising from his chair. “My daughter is in grave danger. You will tell us the truth now or I will do something I will probably regret. Now, madam, the truth, if you please.”
William said very quietly, pain and dread mixed in his voice, “It is Lord Kipper, isn’t it, Mother?”
She turned utterly white, froze in her place, her eyes fastened on her folded hands.
“Lord Kipper,” Tysen repeated slowly.
“Yes, William,” Thomas said, “I believe he is your father and that explains everything, now doesn’t it?”
Madeleine said, “But William is not beautiful like Lord Kipper is. What a wretched thing. How very unfair.”
“But, Thomas,” William said, ignoring her, “I was with him, I swear it to you, when Jenny was taken. That’s why I believed I must be wrong. You see, I was beginning to wonder why he gave me so much attention, wonder why he always inquired so closely into what I wanted to do, how I felt about things. He was acting like—a man who was related to me, like a man who wanted to claim me somehow, to teach me, to guide me.”
“Like a father,” Thomas said.
“Yes, and it scared me to my toes. That’s why I came to your bedchamber early this morning. I knew I couldn’t wait. But I wanted you to tell me it was nonsense, I really did.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, “I know Lord Kipper was with you. That just means that he hired someone else to help him.”
Libby said very quietly, “I didn’t want to believe it, truly, I didn’t. I forced myself not to think about it. When Jenny MacGraff disappeared, I was relieved, pleased that she was gone, that she wouldn’t drag your name down by marrying you. I wanted her to have run off to Dublin. I prayed it was true. I was lying to myself. And look at what has happened. I’m very sorry.” She looked up at her son, closed her hand over his. “I’m very, very sorry.”
William was shaking his head, not looking at his mother.
Libby said, “Niles has had Bernard Leach here for a good long time now.”
Thomas said, cocking his head to the side, his voice puzzled, “But Lord Kipper bedded Marie Leach, he said so, said that Bernard was a sot and a clod. It was obvious to me that Lord Kipper had nothing but contempt for Bernard Leach. Why would he let Bernard stay with him?”