Page 52 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“The five children with the initials EC after their name,” Althea stated. “What can you tell us about them?” She reached into her satchel and pulled out the ledger. “For example, Adina Desmond has no parent listed. The girl has been here four years, which means she came here when she was eight.”

“EC?” MacClery said, a puzzled look on his face.

“MacClery, this place acted as a mill, a hiding place for illegitimate children of my father and his wealthy associates. The children were sold for a profit,” Damon stated.

“Bloody hell!” MacClery explained. “My pardon, ladies, Your Grace.”

“Bloody hell, indeed,” Damon muttered.

“As to Adina, she was brought here in hysterics,” Mrs. Seddon replied. “It took months for me to earn her trust, enough that she revealed that she was taken from her mother by force and brought here by Mr. Browning. It was hard to figure out where she lived, but she told me a name of a village by the sea, and I managed to locate it in Cornwall.”

“Good God,” Damon exclaimed.

“I wrote to the local constabulary hoping they could locate Adina’s mother, Your Grace, but I was told she had moved to London to find her daughter. But that was four years ago. Perhaps Adina’s mother has returned to the village.”

Damon rubbed his temple. “It appears, Miss Galway, this investigation is far from over.”

Doctor Buchanan opened the door. He had a young lad at his side. A blond-haired, blue-eyed one. “This is Hugh Crossingham. You wished to speak with him.”

The boy was gangly as a lad of thirteen often is, and he eyed Damon warily.

Mrs. Seddon pulled on MacClery’s sleeve. “We will leave you to it, Your Grace.”

Damon and Althea were left alone with Hugh, who stood with shoulders back and fists defiantly clenched. Althea turned to a page in the ledger and passed it to Damon.

“It says here your mother is deceased, that you came here three years ago,” Damon began.

“Aye, sir. I don’t remember much. She died long ago. I was in an orphanage when that brute took me out of there, and he brought me here. Browning, his name.”

Damon would not correct any of the children about how to address him. Who cared, except for the upper echelons of society?

“Do you know why you were brought here?” Althea questioned.

“I think to sell me to a factory. Browning always yelled at Mrs. Seddon to see it done, but she came up with excuses. I was fixing to run away because that bully said he would take me to a factory the next time he came here. I thought he had come for me when he showed up here the other day.”

“Do you know who your father is?” Althea asked.

“No. Some nob, my mother said once.” The boy looked Damon square in the eye. “Is it you? Is that why you’re here, sir?”

And here it was. No use denying the blood ties.

“I could be. Since I was eighteen when you were born. But no, Hugh, I am not your father. I am, however, your half-brother.”

“Half-brother. Blimey,” the boy whispered. “What now?”

“That is a good question. Would you like to stay here until we work out the details? I would like to assist you with schooling and whatnot. We can visit, get to know each other better, and go from there. If you like. Think about it.”

Hugh remained quiet, his brows furrowing as if deep in thought. “I’ll stay here for now, sir. I need to think on things.”

“You do that.”

“Is it a secret?”

Damon looked at Althea. She gave a slight nod.

“Yes, until I speak with the others,” Damon replied.

Hugh’s eyes widened. “There’s more?”