Page 20 of The Not So Perfect Duke

Damon stood beside her. “Allow me to apologize once again,” he murmured quietly so only she could hear. “You are the most competent, intelligent woman I have ever met, and I believe that you—and your sister and cousin—are more capable than any ten men together. That is why I want you on this case.” He moved away before she could respond.

And there it was.

That moment of intense radiation. Althea closed her eyes and reveled in his sincerely spoken words.

“Beefsteak sandwiches for Christian, ham and egg for me, and I do apologize, Eleanora. I am not aware of yours,” Damon said.

“And cheese and bacon for Althea?” Eleanora responded. “I like all three, so I am lucky there. Thank you for this, Chellenham.”

Althea cast a glance toward her sister. Being polite to Damon and thanking him? Would wonders ever cease?

With tea food collected, they took their seats at the long table. Eleanora would be taking notes.

“What’s all this about?” Christian asked.

“I am not sure how to explain it,” Damon began. “During my East End sojourns, I was astounded to find that many working at music halls and brothels were orphans, raised in orphanages, workhouses, or even the streets. And more than a few were the illegitimate children of peers or other wealthy men. It did not seem right to me, these children being tossed aside like so much rubbish, left to fate, only able to find work in the gutters or one or two steps above it.”

Damon’s sipped his tea. “Men of means have acted recklessly in this fashion for centuries. How many of these unwanted children belonged to my father? It began to haunt me. It appears I have some semblance of a soul after all. I traveled to Spain a few weeks past to visit my estranged mother. She gave me a list of eight names that she knew of, along with the name of an orphanage. My mother claims there are more children out there, now adults. I do not intend to know these people personally; I just want to assist them. If they want or need it. Set up some sort of trust account, I suppose. I haven’t worked it all out yet.”

Eleanora and Christian glanced at each other. Then Eleanora returned her attention to her note-taking. Althea could understand their surprise, for she was also riveted by his narrative.

“Damon, while it is admirable that you wish to assist these illegitimate children or adults, if word gets around, you will have people lined up with their hands out,” Christian said gently. “There is no way to prove they were sired by your father.”

“I am aware. Doctor Buchanan made that very plain, scientifically speaking,” Damon replied. “It is why this must be done discreetly. Starting with the names on the list and investigating the orphanage.”

“If the orphanage even exists,” Althea interjected.

Damon swung his gaze toward her. “What makes you say that?”

“Your father could have given your mother the name of a fictitious orphanage to assuage her concerns about where these illegitimate babies were winding up. Did she ever inquire?”

“My God, you have a dark turn of mind,” Damon marveled, his eyes sparkling. “My parents had an acrimonious split, with my father threatening incarceration in an asylum. My mother was effectively exiled to Spain and banned from contacting me. I just found this out during my recent visit. So no, I doubt she had the time nor inclination to check out the validity of my father’s statements.”

“He was a miserable bastard, your father,” Christian fumed.

“The very reason I gave him a bare-boned send-off,” Damon replied acerbically. “He did not deserve all the pomp and circumstance a duke usually receives. Good riddance.”

“I believe the place to begin is for me to take the lead on this case. And when needed, involve Christian and Eleanora,” Althea stated. “They are on a case now involving fraud at a railway company, but it is a drawn-out one, so they will have time to assist here and there. We have recently hired a competent young woman I can use to gather the needed information. I will start with the orphanage. Do you have the list?”

Damon pulled a sheet of paper out of his side coat pocket. “There is one name you will all recognize, and until she wants it made public— if at all—you are all sworn to secrecy. It is Olivia Durham, Gideon’s wife.”

To say that Althea, Eleanora, and Christian were stunned was an understatement. Damon explained about her birth and that she was adopted by a country vicar and his wife. Eleanora was furiously taking notes while Althea tried to wrap her head around this shocking development.

Her new friend was Damon’s half-sister?

But, now that she knew, Althea could see the resemblance. The hair and eye color obviously, but also the shape of the mouth, the full lips, the sharp cheekbones.

My. God.

“Do you wish me to contact this nunnery and the sister that Olivia spoke to a few years ago?” Althea asked.

“Yes, and I want to go with you when you do. The nun told Olivia she was well aware of my father’s name. I want to know how,” Damon replied. “As I said, I want to be involved in this investigation as much as possible. Unfortunately, the next two days are taken up with meetings. Solicitors and the like.”

“Why don’t I start with this orphanage? I should have some information for you once your conferences have concluded,” Althea suggested.

“Yes, that is a sound plan,” Damon responded. “There is another name on the list. You will not believe this.”

Damon explained how the Metropolitan Police detective from B Division, Westminster, that attended to his father’s death was the same name on the list, Mitchell Evercreech.