it and he is leaving London shortly. I doubt you will see him again.’
The finality of this statement was in direct opposition to her desires, so she ignored it. ‘Hastings?’ she chided. ‘Really, Father. Now you are the one who is being rude. When did you cease to think of him as Sam? And for what reason? If there is some breach between the two of you, then I beg you to heal it, for my sake.’
‘There is no breach,’ her father insisted, probably afraid that she would resort to tears. ‘But we have an understanding, he and I. And what has been done is all for your sake, I assure you.’
As if she needed protection from Sam. The idea was quite ridiculous and not worth mentioning. ‘I am more concerned with Sam and his future, Father. So should you be.’
‘He is seeing to that well enough, without my help,’ her father said. Perhaps he was simply hurt that the boy he had raised could manage to prosper without him.
‘His success is a credit to your early tutelage, I am sure.’ She must turn the topic, for she wished to close the breach and not widen it. Her father appeared somewhat mollified at the thought that he had contributed to Sam’s obvious success. ‘And I see no reason that he cannot stay here with us, while he is in London.’
‘He does not wish to,’ her father said, firmly.
‘I am happy to see that you have no objection,’ she said with another smile. One thing did not imply the other. But it was better to let him think her illogical than to allow argument. Then she added, as though in afterthought, ‘Once he is here, it will give you a chance to tell him what you know of his true parentage.’
‘I?’ That had caught him unawares, she was sure. He was flustered out of countenance and almost beyond speech. It took several seconds for him to manage a proper denial. ‘I know nothing. And whatever Samuel Hastings has told you on the subject is clearly a lie.’
‘He … told me?’ She gave a bat of her lashes to reinforce the innocence of her discovery. ‘He did not tell me anything. But I needed no great wit to draw my conclusion. I have my own eyes, if I wish to see the truth. You had best give him the whole story, if you have not already.’
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ said her father, in the slow and deliberate way that people sometimes used to deny the obvious.
Eve sighed and gave up on honey, preferring to catch this particular fly with a swatter. ‘Then I will explain it to you. I have had suspicions for quite some time. But it was only until just now, in the garden, that I was sure. When they are seen together by others, someone will remark on the resemblance between them. From there it is only a short step to seeing that the Duke of St Aldric and Dr Samuel Hastings are as alike as brothers.’
‘Evie, you mustn’t meddle in this.’ It was the same weak prohibition that he tried whenever she stepped out of bounds.
Since she knew there were no consequences to disagreeing, it would meet with the same lack of success. She continued. ‘You were a good friend of the old duke when he was alive, were you not?’
‘Of course, but …’
‘And mightn’t he have asked you a favour, at one point in your life, when you and mother feared that you would be childless?’ In case she had been too direct, she larded the question with more feminine sweetness. ‘I only ask because I know there will be gossip.’
‘There will be none if Hastings leaves, as he is promised to,’ her father said stubbornly. He had not affirmed or denied her theory. But evasiveness was an answer.
‘It is hardly fair to Sam, if you make him leave London just because of the duke.’ Nor was it fair to her. She would not lose him again, over something that should not matter to anyone. ‘If the estrangement between you is nothing more than a fear of making this revelation, you had best get it over with. Since I love both men, I mean to keep them close to me for as long as I am able.’ She smiled again and offered a bait that she doubted her father could resist. ‘I am sure that St Aldric would welcome the news. He has spoken frequently of the burden of being the only remaining member of his family. You would gain much favour by telling him what he longs to hear.’
‘Revelation of a natural son …’ her father stopped himself before revealing the truth ‘… if there were such, would do nothing to change his status as the last of the line.’
‘It would change the contents of his heart,’ Eve argued. ‘I know his spirit; it is generous to a fault. He would want to share his wealth with his father’s son. And it would at least make him cease his jokes about duels between them. Imagine his reaction, should they fight for some reason, and not learn the truth until after one of them had been injured.’
‘For some reason?’ She had pushed too far. Her father had spotted the hole in her argument and made his escape. ‘Really, Evelyn. Do not play the naïf. You know perfectly well that they would be fighting over your attentions. If an accident occurs, it will be your fault and not mine. You must send Hastings away. I have assured myself that the man is too sensible to harbour false hope on a match between you. And neither should you.’
‘I am not offering false hope.’ There was nothing false about it. After the time spent in the garden, the hope she felt was quite real. As was her conviction about the identity of Sam’s father. ‘I am simply attempting to right a wrong, before it goes further. It pains both men and does no credit to you.’
‘You are meddling in things you cannot understand,’ he said, patting her on the hand and treating her like the child he still believed she was. ‘If this is the reason you were impolite to St Aldric, then I am sorry to disappoint you. I have nothing to say on the matter, because there is nothing to say.’
Had she failed to persuade him? This happened so rarely that, for a moment, she suspected she might have been wrong. Perhaps there was no secret to reveal. ‘Father …’
‘Go!’ He pointed a finger back towards the garden, once again secure in his control of the situation. ‘Send Dr Hastings on his way before the duke tires of his company. Visit with St Aldric, as he desires. I have no intention of helping you out of the muddle you are making. This discussion is at an end and will not be repeated. Now, go.’ Her father’s lips were set in a firm line, as if to show her that no more words would pass between them until she had fulfilled her obligation to him, to society and to the duke.
But he was giving no thought to Sam’s needs. If he would not, then someone must, or he would be back on a boat and out of her life for ever. ‘Very well, then. I will talk to St Aldric. But you are wrong about the rest, Father. We will speak of this again and, next time, you will tell the truth.’ She would worry him with it night and day, if necessary. But she would have her way, and Sam would know his brother.
In Evelyn’s absence, an awkward silence had fallen between the two men. It was hardly surprising. Sam seldom had cause to speak to a man of such great rank and no right to initiate conversation. The duke had no reason to speak to him. It left the pair of them staring morosely at the kitten on the bench until the thing stumbled to the edge and off, wandering into the grass to stalk and pounce on crickets.
Now there was not even an excuse for the silence. It seemed that St Aldric was not content with this, for he was searching about him as though expecting to see an opening to a conversation. At last he offered, ‘Evelyn says you were educated in Scotland, and after you took to the sea.’
‘Indeed, your Grace.’ Sam shifted uneasily, clasping his hands behind his back.
‘The
