because this was wrong. It could not be happening. He could not do this.
Just look at him now. He was standing there bloody well pretending to read the register. How in God's name did anyone think he could be a duke?
Contracts?
Oh, that would be fun.
Rents?
He'd better get a trustworthy steward, since it wasn't as if he could check to see if he was being cheated.
And then - he choked back a horrified laugh - it was a damned good thing he could sign his documents with a seal. The Lord knew how long it would take to learn to sign his new name without looking as if he had to think about it.
John Cavendish-Audley had taken months. Was it any wonder he'd been so eager to drop the Cavendish?
Jack brought his face to his hands, closing his eyes tight. This could not be happening. He'd known it would happen, and yet, here he was, convinced it was an impossibility.
He was going mad.
He felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Who is Philip?" Thomas asked.
"What?" Jack practically snapped.
"Philip Galbraith. He was a witness."
Jack looked up. And then down at the register. At the swirls and dips that apparently spelled out his uncle's name. "My mother's brother."
"Does he still live?"
"I don't know. He did the last I knew. It has been five years." Jack thought furiously. Why was Thomas asking? Would it mean anything if Philip was dead? The proof was still right there in the register.
The register.
Jack stared at it, his lips parted and slack. It was the enemy. That one little book.
Grace had said she could not marry him if he was the Duke of Wyndham.
Thomas had made no secret of the mountains of paperwork that lay ahead.
If he was the Duke of Wyndham.
But there was only that book. There was only that page.
Just one page, and he could remain Jack Audley. All his problems would be solved.
"Tear it out," Jack whispered.
"What did you say?"
"Tear it out."
"Are you mad?"
Jack shook his head. "You are the duke."
Thomas looked down at the register. "No," he said softly, "I'm not."
"No." Jack's voice grew urgent, and he grabbed Thomas by the shoulders. "You are what Wyndham needs. What everyone needs."
"Stop, you - "
"Listen to me," Jack implored. "You are born and bred to the job. I will ruin everything. Do you understand? I cannot do it. I cannot do it."
But Thomas just shook his head. "I may be bred to it, but you were born to it. And I cannot take what is yours."
"I don't want it!" Jack burst out.
"It is not yours to accept or deny," Thomas said, his voice numbingly calm. "Don't you understand? It is not a possession. It is who you are."
"Oh, for God's sake," Jack swore. He raked his hands through his hair. He grabbed at it, pulled entire fistfuls until his scalp felt as if it were stretching off the bone. "I am giving it to you. On a bloody silver platter. You stay the duke, and I shall leave you alone. I'll be your scout in the Outer Hebrides. Anything.
Just tear the page out."
"If you didn't want the title, why didn't you just say that your parents hadn't been married at the outset?"
Thomas shot back. "I asked you if your parents were married. You could have said no."
"I didn't know that I was in line to inherit when you questioned my legitimacy." Jack gulped. His throat tasted acrid and afraid. He stared at Thomas, trying to gauge his thoughts.
How could he be so bloody upright and noble? Anyone else would have ripped that page to shreds. But no, not Thomas Cavendish. He would do what was right. Not what was best, but what was right.
Bloody fool.
Thomas was just standing there, staring at the register. And he - he was ready to climb the walls. His entire body was shaking, his heart pounding, and he -
What was that noise?
"Do you hear that?" Jack whispered urgently.
Horses.
"They're here," Thomas said.
Jack stopped breathing. Through the window he could see a carriage approaching.
He was out of time.
He looked at Thomas.
Thomas was staring down at the register. "I can't do it," he whispered.
Jack didn't think. He just moved. He leapt past Thomas to the church register and tore.
Thomas tackled him, trying to grab the paper away, but Jack slid out from his grasp, launching himself toward the fire.
"Jack, no!" Thomas yelled, but Jack was too quick, and even as Thomas caught hold of his arm, Jack managed to hurl the paper into the fire.
The fight