“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” I said to Wilder after we were over an hour into our drive.
“You’ll have to leave them from time to time, my brother.”
“Something isn’t sitting right with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“In my gut, Wild. I didn’t feel as though I should leave tonight. I still don’t.”
“Listen, we’re almost to the Kensington flat. If the duchess is there, we’ll have a quick chat and head straight back.”
“Right.”
More and more, I wondered how I could possibly stay on at MI6. Even if I took Rivet’s job, the hours would be long and there would be times I’d have to be away for extended periods of time. I couldn’t imagine being away from Losha and Kazmir for a few hours, let alone days.
As far as I knew, Rivet and Anna had only one child, a boy, but I didn’t know much about him, even his name. That was telling in itself. I wouldn’t be able to compartmentalize as easily as my boss had. If I wasn’t with them, I’d likely be talking about Losha and Kaz to whomever would listen.
“Duchess,” said Wilder, answering his phone. “Where are you?”
I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“We’re on our way there now,” Wilder said before hanging up.
“Is she at the flat?” I asked.
“On her way. Should be there by the time we are.”
I pulled out my phone. “I’ll just check in,” I muttered.
My calls to Losha, Darrow, and Pinch all went unanswered. Finally, Wellie picked up.
“They left here about thirty minutes ago,” he reported.
“Who did?”
“Losha, Darrow, and the baby. Axel left a few minutes after them.”
What the bloody hell? I’d specifically told Pinch not to let her out of his sight. “Where are they now?”
“I think they were headed to Dorchester House.”
“Thanks, Wellie. If you happen to hear from Axel, can you please ask him to contact me immediately? It’s urgent I speak with him.”
“I will, Thornton.”
I was about to hang up when Losha’s suggestion came to me. “Hey, Wellie?”
“I’m here.”
“I asked you once before about someone named Matthew. I’m asking again. What do you know of him?”
Wellie took a deep breath. “Have you spoken with the duchess about this?”
“We’re on our way to her now.”
“It’s better if she’s the one to tell you, Thornton.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, incredulous. “He hung up. He bloody hung up.”
“What did he say about Matthew?”
“That it’s best if the duchess tells us who he is. At least that’s what I think he meant.”
In all the years I’d known him, this was the first time Wellie cut me off. The bad feeling I’d had since before I left Whittaker Abbey intensified ten-fold.
By the time we walked in the door of our mother’s flat, I was furious.
“Who’s Matthew?” I asked before we’d even said hello.
“Thornton—”
“Who is he, Duchess?”
“Shiver…” Rivet came around a corner. “Please have a seat.”
“Not until you tell me who Matthew is and why my father’s dying words were for me to find him.”
When the duchess gasped, Rivet walked over and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Who is he, Rivet?”
“Matthew is my son. Mine and Anna’s.”
“Not good enough. I asked you a specific question, and I expect an answer.”
“Thornton—”
I held up my hand. “I’ve run out of patience with the both of you. I want you to sit down, this minute, and explain to me why my father told me to find him.”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears, and Rivet looked as though he might tear his hair out with the way he was running his hand through it.
“Enough with the secrets. Get on with it.”
“It isn’t an easy story to tell, Thornton,” said the duchess, dabbing her tears with a handkerchief. “Your father was involved with another woman before he and I were married.”
I immediately saw where this was going, but under no circumstances would I relent. Between my mother and Rivet, I expected to hear the full story.
“That woman was my wife, Anna,” said Rivet, now seated next to the duchess.
“Shortly before your father and I were to be married, Anna discovered she was pregnant.” She looked at Rivet, and he rested his hand on hers.
How had Rivet gotten involved in this whole sordid affair, and what was his relationship with my mother?
Rivet’s gaze met mine. “Anna and I were married within the month.”
“Arranged by whom?”
“Me,” answered the duchess.
“Why?”
“The answer should be obvious.”
“If it were obvious, I wouldn’t ask. Why did you arrange a marriage between the duke’s mistress and Sir Ranald?” I saw my mother cringe, but I was beyond caring.
“Your father was destined to be the next Duke of Bedfordshire—the heir to one of the great estates in all of England.”
“Surely, you didn’t ask Ranald to marry a complete stranger because of an estate, Mother.”
“As much as you’re inclined to walk away from your birthright, your father was not. I didn’t act alone, Thornton. I offered assistance at your grandparents’ request.”
“We aren’t living in the eighteenth century, Duchess,” added Wilder. “Having a child out of wedlock, even having a mistress, is not a reason for someone to give up their birthright.”
The duchess folded her arms. “And what of Charles and Diana?”
Wilder rolled his eyes and paced to the other side of the room. “Jesus,” he muttered.
“Charles had been involved with another woman—a married woman—for years, and yet he married someone the palace approved of, not the woman he loved.”
“Our father was a duke, not the bloody future King of England,” Wilder spat.
There were several things about my mother’s last statement that bothered me. One, that she believed her role in arranging for Rivet to marry a woman who was a stranger to him, pregnant with another man’s child, was her duty as the future duchess. Second was her comparison of the situation to the current Prince of Wales’ relationships. Had my father loved this Anna? Had he married my mother because she was someone of whom his parents approved? Had she arranged for the marriage solely to secure her ongoing position in English society?
“Why, Ranald?”
I knew I’d hit a nerve when my mother looked at Rivet once again. There was love between them. I couldn’t say for certain it was romantic love, but there was an affection that ran deep.
“I volunteered.”
Of course Rivet would shield the duchess from having to answer.
“How were you compensated for this union?”
“Thornton!” my mother gasped.
“It’s okay, Victoria. It’s a logical question for him to ask.”
“One I expect an answer to,” I told them.
“Both of us do,” added Wilder.
“Your father played an integral role in gaining my employment with SIS.”
“What about the knighthood?” Wilder asked.
“The duke had nothing to do with that.”
“Was Wilder’s and my employment with SIS part of this arrangement?”
“Neither were,” Rivet answered.
“Why did my father tell me to find Matthew?”
“My wife suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder as does her son.”
“Where is he presently?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did my father tell me to find him ‘before it was too late’?”
“And why did I overhear you say that now that Anna was dead, Rivet no longer had an excuse to wait?” added Wilder.
Again, Rivet answered for the duchess. “As for Anna, she begged me not to go after Matthew. She knew that if I did, he might be incarcerated. With her as sick as she was…my focus was primarily on her care. As for why your father told you to find him before it was too late, I can’t say for certain, but I believe he may have attempted to get in touch with the duke.”
“It was right after the first stroke. I believe Matthew’s demands may have triggered the others,” the duchess interjected.
“What demands?” I asked.
For the third time, my mother looked at Rivet before responding.
“He wanted to be named rightful heir,” she said only after Rivet nodded.
“Did he make any threats?” asked Wilder.
“He did.”
When I saw my brother stalking toward Rivet, I intercepted him. “Whatever you intend to do, I implore you not to.”
“Why not? You heard him. Our father’s illegitimate son is a sociopath who made threats against our family.”
“Sutton, Matthew is mentally ill—”
Wilder turned on our mother. “Are you defending him?”
“Why haven’t you apprehended him?” I asked before the duchess had a chance to respond.
“There wasn’t enough of a credible threat that would’ve allowed us to.”
Wild shook his head in disgust. “And yet you believe these threats triggered our father’s series of strokes.”
“I don’t know for certain, Sutton.”
I grabbed the back of the chair in front of me when the ramifications of this conversation dawned on me. “Do you have any reason to believe that Matthew had anything to do with the bomb that almost killed Losha and our son?”
Rivet didn’t need to answer. I saw it in his eyes.
“You bloody sonuvabitch,” I seethed. As much as Wilder had wanted to attack the man only moments ago, it took all of my self-restraint not to do so myself. “I couldn’t reach her,” I muttered. “I couldn’t fucking reach her.”
“What are you saying?” asked Wilder.
“Losha—I couldn’t reach her. Is the man in England?”
“It is possible.”
I got right in his face when Rivet stood. “You better fucking pray that there is a good explanation as to why I was unable to reach the mother of my child, my sister, nor the man that I entrusted with her and my son’s well-being. If anything has happened to them, not only will I kill this Matthew, you’ll be next on my list.”
The duchess got between Rivet and me. “Thornton, I will not allow this kind of talk.”
I glared at her. “Stay out of this, Mother. This is none of your concern.”
“Can’t you see this may be for the best? Isn’t it obvious that the sins of the father are repeating with the son?”
I took two steps back, trying to reconcile the words my mother had just spoken. Had she actually suggested that something happening to my son and his mother would be for the best?
“Wait, Thornton, I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded,” she cried. “I didn’t mean something should happen to the child.”
I could barely look at her. Whether she’d meant her words in the way they sounded or not, she was, in some way, alluding that my being the father of an illegitimate baby was a sin. As Wilder had said earlier, we weren’t living in the eighteenth century. To think that my own father had allowed another man to marry the mother of his firstborn child was something I couldn’t fathom any more than what my mother had just said to me.
“We have to go,” I said to Wilder. “Now.”
Wild was ahead of me, but turned to address Rivet. “Whatever resources there are from any section of SIS, they need to be on their way to Whittaker Abbey immediately.”
“I’ll take care of it,” answered Rivet.
“You best pray this is a false alarm, and nothing has happened to them. If something has, I’ll kill you with my bare hands before Shiver has the chance.” Wilder turned to our mother. “And you, Duchess, best think long and hard about what you just suggested. Like Shiver, if anything has happened to Losha or the baby, I will also hold you personally responsible.”
“But that isn’t what I meant…”
I heard my brother’s words and the cries of my mother, but I couldn’t stop to process them. Losha and the baby were in grave danger; I felt certain of it.
Rivet followed us to the lift. “Before you go, here is his likeness.” He handed me a photograph.
“This is Matthew?”
Rivet nodded. “Do you recognize him?”
I handed the photo to Wilder who shook his head. “Looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”
I studied the image a second time. “How recent is this?”
“Not more than a couple of years.”
“He looks…Jesus! It’s Thomas,” I exclaimed, punching the buttons on the lift.
“Let me see that again,” said Wilder, holding out his hand. “It is him.”
“Who is Thomas?” I heard my mother ask from inside the flat.
“The driver.”