silently for several long seconds before she seemed to gather herself and pulled completely out of his arms.
Her shoulders straightened, and her expression became one of stoic determination as she wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks before turning to look at her brother. “You will explain all of this situation to me, and afterwards, I shall decide whether or not I will forgive you.”
Julius’s chest swelled with admiration. Bethany truly was magnificent when she became every inch the lady she undoubtedly was. Whoever her parents might be.
“And you.” The frown she now leveled at Julius wiped the smile from his lips. “You will then tell me what part you have played in this subterfuge, for you have surely known all along that your valet is my brother, James.”
Julius could see no point in trying to deny that was the case. Instead, he settled for sitting quietly beside her as James explained the events of ten years ago and how he had lived in the years since.
Bethany’s face was paper white by the time James had finished with his tale, her fingers painfully gripping Julius’s. “Our uncle paid those street thugs to murder you.” It was a statement not a question.
“Yes,” James confirmed.
“And your friends from St Giles saved you from a watery grave?”
“They were not my friends then. But yes, they pulled me from the river and prevented me from drowning.”
She nodded. “Then I forgive you, my dear brother. I shall also want to return to London with you so that I might meet these friends and thank them for keeping you safe for me all these years.”
“Bethy,” James choked.
“My beloved brother,” Bethany said emotionally.
Julius allowed the brother and sister several minutes to hold each other before interrupting them. “There is still more,” he said gently.
James pulled back to look at him. “I have confessed to my sins and been forgiven. The rest of it is for you to share with Bethany.”
His mouth twisted. “I had a feeling you might say that.”
Bethany looked at him with happily glowing blue eyes. “Does your part of the story have something to do with the letters we stole from my uncle’s study earlier?”
“It does.”
“And Elizabeth, the sister of Gabriel Templeton?”
“You were listening.”
She shrugged. “I was gathering my senses and overheard that part of your conversation while I was doing so. Tell me,” she encouraged. “I do not believe I could be any more shocked than I am at this moment.” She smiled lovingly at James.
“Do not speak too hastily, love,” he said ruefully.
“Please tell me,” she urged Julius.
By the time Julius had finished his explanation regarding Elizabeth, her death after giving birth to her illegitimate daughter, and the incarceration of her married lover to a French asylum through grief, Bethany’s face had become gray rather than merely paper white.
“Apparently, Elizabeth and Henrietta, Countess of Ipswich, although Henrietta was slightly older than Elizabeth, had become fast friends during Elizabeth’s very first Season,” Julius continued determinedly. “They continued to correspond by letter even after Elizabeth had been disowned by her father, the previous Duke of Blackborne, and ejected from the family home, after which time, Elizabeth and her married lover departed for France. Elizabeth’s letters indicate that her health deteriorated during the last three months of her pregnancy, to the extent she, quite correctly, feared for her life. Henrietta and David Metford, the Countess and Earl of Ipswich, traveled to France with their small son so that Henrietta could comfort and be with her friend for those last three months.” Julius glanced at James. “Your brother remembers living in a French chateau for several months when he was seven. All these years, he has believed that his sister was born there. Which she was, just not to Henrietta,” Julius added softly.
Bethany’s lips felt numb and her head was completely empty.
Not surprising when moments ago, she’d had her brother returned to her, only to now learn that he was not her brother at all and that Gabriel Templeton, the Duke of Blackborne, was her uncle. If he could be regarded as such when her own birth had been out of wedlock.
“Gabriel is even now scouring France for any news of the niece he only recently learned is alive,” Julius put in softly.
“He is?”
“Yes.”
“And my real father?” she prompted.
“The Earl of Newnham’s health has deteriorated in recent months, and he is not expected to live much longer,” Julius provided gently.
Bethany drew in a shaky breath. “How do I— When will I— Who am I?”
“You