The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was too much of a coincidence that Bruce was the man responsible for sending him that letter. But Ernest could not deny the truth when it was staring him right in the face.

The curled snake was exactly the same as the one on the envelope in his study.

“Whose seal is this?” Ernest asked.

“Why, mine, Your Grace,” Bruce replied with a strange smile. Ernest stared at him. He found it hard to believe it had been that easy to locate the sender of the letter. But, Bruce had left his seal on the envelope, had he not? He had wanted Ernest to know it was him.

But, what exactly did Bruce mean when he said he had his wife? Christiana was not in his possession. She was safely back at the manor.

Ernest knew he was going to get the answer from Bruce that day, one way or another.

“Why have we started talking about seals, Your Grace?” Bruce asked slyly. “Perhaps you are a wee bit concerned about my men beating yours and you’re looking for a way out?”

His men guffawed again. Ernest felt his hands ball into fists.

“Tell your men to stand down and I’ll call off mine,” he said.

“And why would I do that, Your Grace?” Bruce said. He had lost his easy smile, and Ernest thought he could detect a trace of fear in his eyes. Ernest knew what that was about. Bruce knew he could easily cut apart Ernest’s small force, but he was not so sure if he stood a fighting chance against Ernest himself. Still, Bruce did not want his men to think him a coward.

“Trust me,” Ernest said easily. “I’ll make it worth your while. Unless…” he paused, summoning a smile. “…you are too cowardly to face me, that is.”

For the first time, a frown appeared on Bruce’s face. “I can take you,” he said, but the fear in his eyes appeared to grow.

Ernest did not have trouble smiling this time. “Trust me, I have no wish to fight you. I only want to talk without your army of brigands.”

A dark muttering swept through Bruce’s crowd, but Ernest ignored it, staring right at Bruce. And finally, after a drawn-out silence, Bruce raised his fist.

There was the sound of metal being sheathed as Bruce’s men’s weapons disappeared from view.

“I wish to speak to you alone,” Ernest said.

Bruce stared at him for a while. He seemed to be measuring Ernest in his mind. Ernest stared back unflinchingly. Finally, Bruce said, “Outside,” his face ripe with apprehension.

His men started to shuffle outside. Ernest turned around and gave the command to his own men, who joined Bruce’s men. For some minutes, only retreating footsteps could be heard. Finally, the door banged shut behind the last man, and Ernest turned to Bruce.

“‘You have my wife’,” he said.

Whatever apprehension had been on Bruce’s face disappeared in the flash of a second. Looking up at Ernest, he grinned, revealing his even yellow teeth. “I must admit I expected you to have figured it out sooner,” he said. “Perhaps noblemen are not as smart as we have been led to think.”

Keep talking and you won’t have any teeth left to grin with, Ernest thought. However, he put a tight lid on his emotions. He had to get to the root of this matter, as soon as possible. “My wife is safe and sound behind the walls of my manor. I don’t know who you have managed to capture, but you have the wrong woman.”

Bruce was definitely a good actor, Ernest thought, as Bruce’s eyes widened in what he was sure was feigned surprise. But, after a second, Bruce let out a chuckle.

“Are you trying to save face, Your Grace? Perhaps you don’t want your fancy men from your manor to know how negligent you’ve been in taking care of your wife? Your wife is with me, Your Grace, and only gold will force me to release her.”

Ernest stared at Bruce. He was dealing with a mad man, he was sure. Bruce spoke with such conviction that had he not seen Christiana only that afternoon, Ernest might have been convinced he was telling the truth.

“You have the wrong woman,” Ernest said again.

“No, I don’t think I do,” Bruce said, smiling.

His smile aggravated Ernest. “Am I supposed to take the word of a drunken fool when I saw my wife only before I rode here?” Ernest asked.

“No,” Bruce said. “Your people like to say none of the senses are as powerful as sight. Perhaps I can prove to you that I do have your wife.”

Ernest stared at him. Did Bruce mean to drag an innocent woman before him, kicking and screaming?

“Prove it,” he said. Bruce had to be playing some sick game, he knew, and the best way for Ernest to discover his lies was to call his bluff.

However, Bruce was still smiling as he reached into his pocket for something. He tossed the object onto the table. Ernest stared down at the object, eyes narrowed. It was a stained, dirty thing, and Ernest was about to ask Bruce if he was done with his jape when he realised what he was looking at.

It was Christiana’s ring.

He stared up at Bruce, disbelieving. Thoughts were crashing through his brain. The first and foremost thought was that Bruce had been the one who had attacked Christiana during her journey and had stolen her ring.

“Did you have your highway bandits rob her?” Ernest asked, pushing the ring back towards Bruce. He was angrier than he could say, and it was taking everything in him to get his temper under control.

Bruce gave a short laugh. “I promise you, Your Grace, my men don’t rob highborn ladies. This ring was taken from your wife after she became my… ward. We’ll be sure to give her back once you pay her ransom.”

Ernest squinted at Bruce. If Bruce did have some highborn lady in his possession, a highborn lady who had been wearing Christiana’s ring, then it stood to reason that he indeed had had Christiana at some point. But Ernest knew for a fact that Christiana was safe and sound in his manor.

Had Christiana given her ring to someone else? And if she had, why would she lie about it? He looked back at Bruce. The man seemed to believe he was telling the truth, and Ernest did not think anyone could hold on a farce for that long. Also, a man like Bruce was a professional. If he was absolutely sure he did have Christiana, then there was a possibility that it was true.

And if that was true, who the hell was in the manor?

Bruce rose to his feet. “I hope you understand, Your Grace. This is purely business. You seem quite tense. And, I have to say, having bedded your wife, I can understand why you are so grim all the time. Quite a handful, that one.” He leaned forward conspirationally. “I know of some whores. Very discreet ones, I might add. No one would ever have to know. Why don’t we—?”

But he stopped talking abruptly, because Ernest had drawn his fist backwards and punched him in the mouth, knocking out two of his yellow front teeth.

Bruce took the punch extremely well. He did not scream or shout for his men, only letting out a barely audible grunt. He groaned again as he held his mouth with a palm, blood sprouting out from the space between his fingers.

“You’ll pay for this,” he whispered.

“I assure you I won’t,” Ernest said, already striding off. He thought that Bruce would perhaps try to stop him by aiming a tankard of ale at his head, but no such thing happened. Ernest was mildly surprised. For all his attitude, Bruce was all bark and no bite.

* * *

It had been hours since Ernest had left Bruce’s club, but his mind was still abuzz.

Bruce had managed to lay a hand on, and kidnap, a lady who’d been wearing Christiana’s ring. The lady was now with Bruce, perhaps in his dungeons. Bruce claimed the lady was Lady Gillingham.

But Lady Gillingham had been living in the manor all his while.

Ernest buried his face in his palms. He had no idea what to think, what to do. He had been married for just one month, yes, but he believed he knew a little about his wife. An imposter could not just infiltrate his manor and not be figured out. It was impossible.

Ernest’s mind flicked back to Christiana’s recent change in behaviour. Yes, she had been quite different since the accident. She had become more than someone he thought he would never be cordial with. She had become his friend, his companion, and he knew how deeply he cared for her.

But, her change also coincided with her accident.

Ernest had explained it away by assuming her accident and close encounter with death had changed her.

But, what if it hadn’t?

What if an imposter had been staying in his manor all this while?

Ernest shook his head. It was impossible for so many reasons. First, where would Christiana find a woman who looked exactly like her to play Ernest’s wife? Christiana was not a twin as far as he knew, and the chance of randomly finding a woman who looked so like her was next to none. It made absolutely no sense.

Ernest let himself explore the possibilities for a little while. What ifChristiana had found a woman who looked like her to play her? It was something that the former Christiana certainly could do. But if there were two women who looked like Christiana, how was Ernest to ensure that Bruce wasn’t the one with the wrong woman after all?

He lifted his head, running his hand through his hair. His thoughts were a reach, he knew, but he could think of no other explanation. The only other thing he wondered about was if Christiana had given her ring away to some other blond woman, who was now in Bruce’s custody.

Ernest gave a tight nod. Yes, that could be it, he thought. But even that explanation came with a lot of questions. Still, it was a more satisfactory explanation than Christiana having a look-alike.

He rose to his feet. He was going to her right then, going to question her until she told him the truth about how she lost her ring.

But then he hesitated as he got to the door.

There was a slight chance that Bruce was telling the truth.

Christiana had totally transformed after the incident. A near-death experience did not explain certain things about this transformation, like how she was suddenly friends with Rebecca and how she could climb trees. It also did not explain why she could suddenly not ride a horse.

And most of all, it did not explain her refusal to lie with him when she obviously wanted to.

Ernest sighed. All of this had been staring him in the face for more than a week, but somehow, he had closed his eyes to it.

And he did not have to search for a reason as to why.

He had feelings for this new version of Christiana, whether or not she was his wife.

And if there was really another person who looked like Christiana… well, he just hoped his feelings were for his real wife.

But, if there was another woman masquerading as Christiana, how was he to uncover her lies? Ernest wracked his brain for an answer.

And, finally, it came to him.

* * *

Amelia had just returned from putting Michael to bed, and she was grinning as she settled in her chambers.

It had little to do with the fact that she was closer than ever to Rebecca now or that Michael seemed to feel the loss of his parents less and less. No, Amelia was happy because it finally seemed like Michael was starting to accept her.

After she had sung him to sleep just minutes ago, the boy had mumbled, “I like you as my new mama,” before he fell asleep.

Apart from her parents and Rebecca, Amelia had rarely felt that kind of complete acceptance from anyone. And so, she could not contain her joy.

There was a knock at the door, and Amelia hurried to it, wondering if it was Mary with her dinner. Ever since the fire, Ernest had thought it best for them to dine separately for a while. He had been so busy he hadn’t the time to spend with her.

“You wouldn’t believe what Michael told me,” she said as she opened the door.

But it was not Mary. It was Ernest.

“Ernest,” Amelia said smoothly with a curtsy. It was stupid, but her heart had flared up with joy at the sight of him. All through the day she’d spent with Michael, she had thought endlessly of him, wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was safe in the presence of the Bruce man. And now it seemed he had returned to her in one piece.

She was more delighted than she could say.

“My lady,” Ernest said, stepping into the room. He looked quite tired, she saw, but it was more than just that. There was a guarded expression on his face as he stared at her. Amelia wondered what else could have gone wrong.

“How was the visit with Bruce?” she asked.

Ernest shrugged. “It was as expected,” he said shortly.

Amelia could not understand what was going on. Just hours ago, Ernest had told her in detail everything that was going on. And now it seemed he was shutting her out again.

Perhaps he was just in a bad mood, Amelia thought. She stared at him, wondering how to make him feel better.

“I was going to get started on the accounts,” she said. Perhaps learning that she was helping take part of the load off his plate would cheer him up. “I just needed your approval.”

Ernest nodded absentmindedly. “You can get started,” he said.

Amelia squinted at him. Something had gone wrong with Bruce, she could tell.

But she had no idea what it was.

“Is something wrong, Ernest?” she asked, looking up at him.

She was not prepared for what happened next. In one swift motion, Ernest grabbed her, lay her on the bed, and pinned her body with his.

“Christiana,” he growled. “I want you now. Damn it, I need you now.”