me what’s inside.”
She considered refusing. But he might shoot Mama. Her throat constricted, Alicia slowly unfolded the paper and displayed it for his inspection.
“Where are the documents?” he demanded. “Where have you put them?”
“I haven’t seen them. I suppose at one time Mama knew, but she doesn’t remember anymore. So you may as well let her go.”
“I do indeed remember,” Queen Eleanor said indignantly. “This man is a villain. He would overthrow the crown and seize the treasury.”
“Madwoman,” Lord Hailstock muttered, giving her a shake. “Tell me where you put the affidavit from the midwife.”
She drew herself up, a diminutive but regal figure beside his sinister form. “Though you might draw and quarter me, I shall never breathe a word to one such as you.” Then she pressed her lips shut.
Did Mama understand what she was saying? Alicia wondered wildly. If she came to her senses, she could guide them to the place where she’d hidden the documents. Lord Hailstock would let her go.
But in the next moment Alicia knew the futility of that. Claire had instructed Mama never to give the papers to Lord Hailstock. And Mama, bless her devotion, had kept that promise for thirty years.
“You belong in Bedlam,” Lord Hailstock growled to the countess. “Where you can confine your ravings to the other lunatics.”
Queen Eleanor lifted her chin. She kept her mouth tightly closed.
Alicia’s stomach churned. “That’s the real reason you wanted to marry me,” she whispered. “You didn’t care for me. You only wanted to lock Mama away. To keep her from revealing your secret.”
A fiery determination burned in his eyes. “And to keep you or anyone else from stumbling upon the proof. Just as your father did.”
“Papa?”
“He found the letter and realized its worth. Then he came to me, begging a loan to pay his gambling debts in exchange for his silence. Until then, I didn’t know any proof still existed.”
Bile rose in her throat. She felt dizzy with disbelief. “You murdered Papa?”
“No! I would only give him the money if he gave me the documents. The fool refused. Said he wouldn’t force Eleanor to betray her promise to Claire. Then he went home and shot himself.”
Mama made a small sound of distress. Her lips trembled. A tear rolled down her cheek, the droplet sparkling in the lamplight.
Anguish clutched at Alicia. Mama did understand.
Beset by the urge to claw Lord Hailstock’s arrogant face, Alicia clenched her fingers around the paper. “My lord, I will exchange this letter for my mother.”
“Bring it to me,” he said. “I want to know exactly what Claire says.”
“Release Mama first.”
“No. Come closer and show me the letter.”
Alicia took a cautious step toward the marquess and stopped just short of his reach. Without the aid of a lamp, he wouldn’t be able to decipher the faded penmanship. She must convince him the letter was valuable, a worthy barter for Mama.
“Shall I read it to you?” she forced out. “In it, Claire avows that Drake is your son. She calls him by name. She describes your jealousy, your refusal to recognize your own child—”
“Her bastard,” he spat. “She deceived me into thinking her a lady, but she had no morals in the bedchamber. She behaved like a bitch in heat. Her child could have been fathered by any riffraff.”
From the doorway of the ballroom, a familiar voice rang out. “It doesn’t matter who sired me. By law, any child born within the bounds of your marriage is yours.”
With a gasp, Alicia spun around to see her husband enter the darkened ballroom. Broad and strong and tall, Drake walked with the determined stride of a warrior heading into battle. His decisive footsteps echoed in the cavernous room.
Lord Hailstock snapped, “Stop right there. You can’t prove you’re my son.”
Drake halted a few feet from the dais. His gaze went to Alicia, penetrating deeply into her, before returning to Lord Hailstock. “That letter will help verify my case to the authorities. If nothing else, it will cast a blot upon your sterling name. Let the countess go, and I’ll let you burn it.”
The rasp of Lord Hailstock’s breathing filled the silence. Alicia felt her heart pounding against her rib cage. Then abruptly he gave her mother a shove, sending her lurching toward Drake. “Go to Claire’s whelp.”
In the same motion, he grabbed Alicia. His fingers dug into her arm as he yanked her hard against him. The paper slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor. She pushed frantically, trying to escape his iron