Page 105 of A Problem Princess

Scepter was dead and gone, and this time for good, its monster’s head completely cut off. The men of the Armory and the Home Office were both certain the group had been routed from England with Prince Ernest’s exile, and its staunchest followers had fled to the Continent or resigned their positions in Whitehall and the military. They would never call for revolution again.

“If it were anything about Scepter,” he assured her, “Marcus would have sent it.”

Still, there was no point in waiting to read it. He picked up the satchel and untied it. He withdrew a message on white linen paper, sealed with red wax, and imprinted with the royal crest. He recognized the handwriting and frowned.

“This is far worse than Scepter.” He held it up. “It’s from your cousin the regent.”

Her curiosity reached its breaking point, and she snatched the letter from his hand. “Yourcousin now, too.”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Wisely ignoring his grumbling, she broke the royal seal and unfolded the note.

“It’s good news!” A happy smile broke across her face as she read aloud, “The palace and the Duke and Duchess of Kent and Strathearn are pleased to announce the birth of their first child…a daughter named Alexandrina Victoria.”

“Thatisgood news.” This was the second child born to one of the royal dukes since their mad scramble to marry and produce legitimate heirs—helped along less by a sense of duty for the monarchy than by financial incentives from parliament. The country had let out a collective sigh of relief earlier that spring when Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge, welcomed his son George into the world—and into the line of succession. This second child, with another soon to come from Prince Ernest Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, would ensure the continuation of the House of Hanover on the British throne.

More important, though, with every additional royal baby, Cordelia’s claim to the monarchy sank farther away. She would be allowed to spend the rest of her life however she chose.

He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, then placed a tender kiss to her nape.

She stiffened as she read the rest of the letter. “Uh-oh.” She looked over her shoulder at him in cold warning. “You’re not going to like this.”

Thatcould not be good. “What is it?”

“My cousin has finally gotten around to giving us his belated wedding gift.” Her expression turned grim. “He’s making you a duke.”

Christ!Clayton took the letter and scanned it.

His shoulders sagged, and he muttered as he reread his punishment, “Why, that worthless, drunken, philandering sack of—”

“Royal cousin,” she interrupted with a pointed reminder.

He blew out a harsh breath and threw the letter onto the desk. “Can we refuse it?”

“Not if we want to stay in England.” She placed her hand against his cheek. “And I do want to stay here. This is our home now.”

“Yes,Your Grace,” he grumbled. He would do whatever made her happy. Even this. Yet he ran his hand through his hair in disbelief. “Damnation…I’m going to be a blasted duke.”

She laughed and rose up onto tiptoes to kiss him. When she reached to retrieve the letter from the desk, she stopped.

“There’s more.” She reached into the satchel and withdrew a stack of papers bound by string. She frowned. “What’s this?”

He recognized the seals and stamps on the papers. “Home Office records.”

“But you resigned. Why would any of their records be sent here?”

His gut tightened as he untied the string and looked through them, noting the dates. He knew without having to read them…

“They regard my father,” he said quietly, not looking up from the papers. “All the court documents, witness accounts, diary entries, watch reports… The regent and Sidmouth finally unsealed the documents.”

Cordelia placed her hand on his arm. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Dread clenched his chest as he thumbed through the old pages, scanning them to understand their meaning.

“Sidmouth wants me to know the truth about my father, after all these years…” His eyes stung as he found the Home Office report and read it. “My father stumbled across the murders afterward, saw the man who committed them…a Home Office operative at the heart of their spy network. The man accused my father and made certain the evidence showed him guilty enough to hang.” He choked on the words before forcing out, “The Home Office only found out after the execution that their man was involved. By then, it was too late, and they sealed the documents to protect their other operatives.” He looked up at her, his eyes blurring, and choked out, “My father was innocent.”

She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tightly to him, taking comfort in her warmth and love.