Page 10 of After the Abduction

“I beg your pardon, I would never—” Mr. Pryce began to protest.

“Juliet,” Griff interrupted, “the runner already gave us accounts of both men in separate places at the same time—Morgan serving in the navy and Lord Templemore running this estate. I assure you, no man can run an estate for years from a ship.”

He had a point, and yet…“Why doesn’t anybody know of the twins? If this ‘twin’ was brought back to England after his mother died—”

“He wasn’t,” Mr. Pryce explained. “Sebastian’s father and I had Morgan schooled abroad. When he came of age, we purchased him a commission in the navy and he went to war. And stayed out of England.”

“He’d already taken Mother’s maiden name, so they claimed he was Father’s ward. That’s all they told me, too.” Anger now tinged Lord Templemore’s voice. “Since I rarely left the estate and Morgan served on a succession of ships, they figured they could easily keep us apart and the connection between us hidden. Morgan knew he had a brother because our mother told him, but I didn’t know anything.”

“That sounds very unfair,” Juliet said softly.

His startled gaze swung to her. “I thought so.”

His bald admission tugged at her foolishly tender heart. Especially when she glimpsed the vulnerability in his eyes.

Then she frowned. Oh, no, not this time. Never again would she let him play on her feelings, so he could slide under her guard and twist in the knife.

“We did what we considered best, Sebastian,” Mr. Pryce protested. “We didn’t want any trouble when it came time for you to inherit. The midwife was gone, and no one could swear you were the firstborn. Best not to have Morgan around at all to cause trouble when you ascended to the title.”

Lord Templemore dragged his gaze from her. “Then it’s a pity your attempts to avoid trouble didn’t stretch to keeping Father alive.” Despite his flip words, grief lingered in the bitter tone, the hand that convulsively squeezed the India rubber, as if movement distracted him from pain.

Mr. Pryce sighed. “Your father always did whatever he liked.”

“True.” Lord Templemore rose, went to a side table where sat a decanter and some glasses, and poured himself some dark and intense fluid, probably brandy. He swallowed a mouthful, then stood staring into the glass.

Juliet had to fight a silly urge to leap from her chair and comfort him. She’d heard about his ne’er-do-well father—who’d died in a duel over Lady Throwley, the last in a series of married women, opera dancers, and demireps the old baron had taken up with. Leaving his son to suffer the scandal.

Her sympathy swelled despite her attempts to suppress it. What good were wealth and privilege when they came at such a personal cost? To never know one’s mother or brother, watch one’s father ruin his own life—no wonder his lordship buried himself at his estate, away from prying eyes. Who wouldn’t?

“In any case,” the object of her pity continued, “the war ended shortly after Father died, and Morgan decided to end the deception. He came here to meet me in the spring of 1815.” A ghost of a smile played over his lips. “Can you imagine my reaction upon first seeing my twin? It was amazing, an instant feeling of kinship.”

He drank another swig, then another. “We had a month to get acquainted. One morning I told him I meant to reestablish him as a member of the family. He said he had an urgent matter to settle first that would take several months. But he promised to return for Christmas.” He swirled the brandy in his glass. “That was the last time I saw my brother.”

Juliet swallowed. If this was an act, it was a very good one. And yet…

“I take it that kidnapping Juliet for the smugglers and going aboard the Oceana were the matters he needed to settle?” Griff asked.

Lord Templemore shifted his gaze to Griff. “I suppose so. Until now, I knew nothing about any smugglers or kidnapping. When he didn’t show up as promised, I searched for him, but could learn nothing. I only discovered where he’d been once the Oceana went down. The ship’s owners sent me a letter listing the passengers and crew who were lost.”

Moving to the desk, he picked up a sheet of paper, and handed it to Griff.

Griff scanned it quickly. “But this says, ‘in reference to your inquiries.’”

Alarm flickered over Lord Templemore’s face, though he masked it so quickly, Juliet couldn’t be sure. “Yes. That’s how they found me. As a last resort, I’d sent inquiries to ship owners, hoping someone might have information regarding Morgan.”

Griff glanced again at the letter. “The ship sank a few months after we saw him last. So it’s been nearly two years since he disappeared.”

Lord Templemore merely nodded. They all knew what that meant. Two years—nobody came sailing home after two years lost at sea. Not alive, anyway. Tears burned behind Juliet’s eyes. It couldn’t be true. She refused to let it be true. Morgan was here, in front of her…and manipulating her sympathies once again. How typical.

Rosalind’s voice broke the somber silence. “So you have no idea why he consorted with those smugglers? Or why he agreed to kidnap Juliet for them simply to gain the name of the Oceana and the date of July 17?”

“No idea at all. I wish I did.”

“Yes, so do I.” His uncle sounded almost sarcastic, and Juliet wondered why.

“In any case,” Lord Templemore remarked hastily, “you now see why he can’t be in London spreading rumors about your sister-in-law. If he’d survived that wreck, he’d have come home. It’s far more likely that your family servants talked of the matter.”

“Possibly,” Griff agreed noncommittally.