When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,105

who gave birth in secret, and when she died I was placed in a genteel family. They never let me forget I was an unwanted orphan.” His mouth tightened. “You may be sure that my adoptive father suffered for his treatment of me. And before he died at my hand, he admitted that it was the Duke of Carlin who had paid for me to be schooled as a gentleman. It was the duke’s intention that I never know his identity.”

Banfield was Guy’s uncle, Tessa realized in shock. In his warped mind, he now sought revenge on the ducal family. Lady Victor had been right to make a fuss over those deaths. They weren’t the result of a curse, though. They must have been Banfield’s horrific doings.

As he prowled the coal cellar, the lantern cast his elongated black shadow onto the wall. “Never once did he deign to visit me, his firstborn son. Yet that proved to be a boon, for when I applied for the post of his secretary, my own father didn’t recognize me.”

“Did you … did you ever tell him who you were?”

A smile touched his lips without reaching his ice-gray eyes. “Indeed. But only after I’d savored his anguish over the demise of his legitimate sons. Victor was the first to die, a simple matter of slipping a sack of gold into the pocket of a highwayman. For Fenwick and Charles, I hired a man to drill a hole in the hull of their yacht and to plug it loosely so that once out in rough seas, the plug washed out and sank the boat. Then there was Nigel, the present duke’s father. He was a drunkard, so I laced his wine with a purgative and slipped additional doses into Mrs. Womble’s tonics. Such misery my poor middle brother endured! But it was my father who suffered the most. It was worthwhile to see the old goat’s reaction when I told him all this—right after I’d administered digitalis in his nightly brandy. His heart stopped just as he was about to throttle me.”

Tessa was hard-pressed not to gulp. Banfield’s resentment must have festered for years. He’d gone after the heirs one by one, taking his time to plan each murder in order to make them appear as accidents or illnesses.

And now Guy was his target.

Dear God, she could think of nothing to do but to humor Banfield, to find out his scheme, in case by some miracle she escaped his clutches. “Was that you, then, at Astley’s? You must be an excellent shot.”

“On occasion my father was magnanimous enough to allow his lowly secretary to join a hunting party. For that, he required me to practice my marksmanship. Many a time I considered shooting him in the back—by accident.” Banfield extended his arm and sighted down an imaginary barrel before lowering it again. “But I couldn’t risk being caught. That would have been fatal to my mission.”

“I daresay you were angry when Guy moved and spoiled your shot.”

His lips curled in distaste. “No matter, I’ve devised another clever ploy that will do quite nicely for my nephew.”

“Ploy?”

“This is the Earl of Haviland’s cellar. It will appear that he abducted you in order to force Guy to exchange you for the treasure map. I’ve already hidden the incriminating diaries in his study.”

Lord Haviland! It was a crumb of luck to know that Banfield hadn’t transported her out of London, that she was still in Mayfair. He’d made up that story about telling Haviland that Guy would be attending the circus. It was all a trick to make the earl look guilty. “So you stole the diaries, too. And you told His Grace that I had done so.”

“Guy was sniffing at your skirts. I couldn’t take a chance that he might get you with child. I hoped he would take a disgust of you, but he didn’t.” His calculating stare seemed aimed at her midsection. Did he think she was expecting? That only confirmed he meant to kill her, too.

Before she could vanquish another surge of panic, he went on, “I daresay it was Marbury who forced him to court you. Dukes don’t willingly wed bastards. Especially one so different from a lady like Annabelle. Guy was madly in love with her, you know.”

Tessa’s heart wrenched. She mustn’t listen to his poison, she must find a way out of this impossible predicament. “Your plan won’t work. Lord Haviland is bound to have an alibi. Someone will surely swear