Page 83 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“And Hugh Crossingham?” Althea asked. This would be a test to see if Browning’s story matched the one Hugh had given them.

“The duke gave me the name of an orphanage and said the boy was there and to fetch him. As soon as I saw the lad, I knew it was his. When the boy’s mother died, the local vicar whisked this Hugh away to an orphanage before we could get him. It took months to track him down, as the boy was transferred many times. But I found him and took him to the home.”

Browning glowered. “Seddon got too attached to them all. Delayed purchases and the like. I went to complain to the duke some weeks back, and he told me it was over. To forget about the home. Why would I? It was my livelihood, and I would continue without him. Then the bastard up and dies.”

“Are you the least aware of how reprehensible the whole scheme is, you included? Are you aware the children were hungry?” Damon asked incredulously.

The man shrugged. “I know what that word means, and I wasn’t breaking the law. And I was going to get them food. You got in there before me. Some of those snotty-nosed youngsters went on to a better life. Most of them, I’d wager. Seddon always insisted on havin’ the final word about where they went. She made me inspect like, and I did. I’m not a complete monster. I just wanted to make money. A better life, like those kiddies.”

“Are there any more after Chloe?” Althea asked. “Any children out there still living with their mothers? Children that the duke sired?”

“Nah. If there was, the old duke never told me.” Browning tapped his temple. “The man kept a lot of that information up here. Smart, he was. He told me it was his calling to make offspring wherever he could. Superior blood and all that rot. Sounds a bit barmy when I say it out loud. Anyway, all we dealt with in the past years were street waifs. I snatched them up to sell. Better than living on the streets.”

Damon stood, a disgusted look on his face. He departed and returned with the strong box, tossed it at Browning, and the man barely caught it.

“Here now, no need to be like that,” Browning said as he opened the box and ran his fingertips along the bundles of notes.

“All five hundred plus pounds are there. Your blood money. Collect your belongings at Queen Anne’s Gate and be gone before the sun rises. Leave London. In fact, leave England. Or this Sentinel will hunt you down and beat you until you cease to breathe. Or I will do it. Now get out of my house,” Damon hissed through clenched teeth.

Browning rose and started to lumber toward the door, then he halted. “We did some good. Kids starving on the streets got good homes or places to work.”

Damon scoffed. “You keep telling yourself that if it salves whatever conscience you have. In truth, you facilitated a maniacal egotist’s twisted view of human life and profited from it. You served him and obeyed his every warped request. And that makes you a sniveling weakling of epic proportions.”

“Aye,” Browning said softly. “I am that. A fancy way to call me a miserable bastard. I’ll be gone within the hour.”

Browning departed.

“Kingsley, see that Browning is gone within the hour.”

“With pleasure, Your Grace.”

“I am not to be disturbed the rest of the night unless this place is on fire.”

Kingsley gave a slight bow and quit the room.

Althea threw herself into Damon’s arms. “You handled that magnificently.”

He held her close, nuzzling her neck. “And I like it when you embrace me like this. It seems I am indeed saddled with four half-siblings. Will that be an impediment to any possible future between us?”

Althea pulled back and gazed up at him. He looked a little worried. “No. Not an impediment at all. What would you have done if I said yes, it is?”

“Send them all off to school, anything to keep you. But it would not sit well with me.”

Althea hugged him tight. “Never, ever, send them away. Unless they want it. You said Hugh expressed an interest in further schooling, and the others will, too, at some point. But that is different. It appears your future may entail a ready-made family. Moreso, with your mother and her family arriving soon. It is what you wanted, Damon. A family. Someone to love. And love you in return. Isn’t that what most of us want, after all?”

“I have dreamed of it for many months, being in a happy family—with you. From the moment I held you after you tripped that first time. It started then, and I tried to deny it. I was convinced I would never deserve you. That you could never love and trust me. Or respect me, for why would you? My entire adult life up until that moment had been a vast wasteland of dissipation.”

He gently kissed her forehead. “But you sent me into a whirlwind, and I started to feel. But know this, I cannot bear it if anything were to happen to you—it would shatter me. If I were broken before, this would destroy me.”

The anguish in his voice tore her heart asunder.

Althea cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. “We shouldn’t speak of a future until my health situation concludes. My condition is not a conflict plot point in a fiction book. As I said, it is called life. It can be messy. Unpredictable events, as well as health crises, are all part of the bargain.”

“In sickness and in health?”

“Yes, it is an aspect of those vows for a reason. If you genuinely love someone, you stand by them no matter what.”

His beautiful eyes glittered with emotion. “Then I shall be at your side through it all. I love you, my Thea. As I never thought I would love anyone—ever. You. Are. Everything.”