were more children? Were they also…?
Wesley Audley nodded. “They’re all yours. Rafe and Hunter. Our sister, however, oversees the care of the cottage while we work.”
Rafe. Hunter. “Your sister?” He knew he sounded like a fool parroting back the other man’s words.
There came another brusque nod from the fellow seated across from Geoffrey. “Cailin.”
He had a daughter. And sons.
Geoffrey collapsed back in his seat. A dull humming clouded his thoroughly befuddled mind. In the span of a few moments, he’d gone from a duke without any children to a man with four.
“Rafe… he is the eldest.”
There was a tentative quality to Wesley’s words. “He was of the opinion that I’d be wasting my time coming to you. That you are no father to us and that you never had a wish to be. He insisted I ask nothing from you.” Wesley’s lips curved in a sneer. “When she was living, our mother also insisted that we not burden you.”
Not burden him?
Geoffrey’s eyes slid closed. I’m going to be sick. What deficit of character did he possess that Pamela Audley had kept such information from him? What had he said or done to make her believe he’d not properly care for her and the children who’d come from their relationship?
“You believe me?”
It would be nigh impossible for Geoffrey to look at the young man across from him and not see himself in him. Everything from the cleft in his chin to the blue of his eyes.
“I do,” he said hoarsely. He stretched a hand out. “I had no idea—”
“I’m not here to either ease your guilt or seek to know what you knew or did not know…” Wesley—his son—squared broad shoulders, bringing them back. “I’m here to put a request to you.”
“Anything,” he said automatically.
“My siblings? They want nothing from you. I, on the other hand, am not too proud to ask something of the man who sired me and failed to know of my existence…” He held Geoffrey’s eyes. “I’d like a commission.”
A commission?
“That is what you’d ask me for?” Geoffrey asked quietly. “I can give you a fortune.”
“I don’t want a fortune.”
“I could set you up with a comfortable life and see you cared for. An unentailed property.”
“I don’t want handouts. I want a better life that I make for myself.” That same muscle ticked in the young man’s jaw. “Of course, I cannot make that life for myself without some assistance from you.” He spoke those words between clenched teeth as though it were a physical chore to admit them.
Geoffrey wiped a hand down the side of his face. His son would be willing—nay, wanted—to fight Boney’s forces, risking life and limb and forsaking the luxuriant lifestyle he should have been afforded. “I will gladly then purchase your commission. The post of lieutenant colonel or—”
“I’m not looking to have you purchase my way into the highest ranks,” his son interrupted. “I want nothing more than a post of lieutenant, and if I prove myself worthy, then I shall rise in rank.”
“But—”
“I’m telling you what I’ll accept from you.” He’d accept the bare minimum.
Geoffrey deserved that. What reason should the young man have to trust him or accept his offer of assistance? No, he’d not known about his or his siblings’ existence, and yes, Pamela had kept that information from him, but that did not absolve him.
Geoffrey nodded. “Very well. I will coordinate those details. Until I do, where are you staying?”
There was a pregnant pause that confirmed the truth. The young man hadn’t sorted out where he’d go once he arrived in London. By the state of his garments and everything he’d shared about his past and present, neither were there funds to see him comfortably set up while he was in London awaiting his move to the military.
“I’d ask you to please remain here.”
“No.”
“It will be the easiest way with which to work through the details, and also we can expedite the process if we aren’t passing information back and forth.”
It was a lie. Given his power and his rank, Geoffrey had a houseful of servants who would fly if he asked it, to get word to Wesley Audley or anyone else, for that matter.
Geoffrey saw the war silently waged by the young man seated across from him.
But he’d enough sins to his name that he was willing to add this one to preserve the boy’s pride and keep him close… and comfortable… and safe.
At last, Wesley nodded. “Very well,” he said stiffly. “But only because, as