Who knew? Did his mother? She had to. Or had she been told her own husband had been married once before also? She could not imagine it. The sheer amount of information here was staggering. Eammon’s original birth certificate was here, as was a copy of the false one.
There was no denying it—he was not the rightful son of Alexander. He was not the true duke. Should this information ever be found he would be ruined—not just Eammon, but for his entire family.
A cold shiver traversed her spine. His declarations of protecting her echoed in her mind. Now the meaning became clear. He had safeguarded not her person but her inheritance and thus his secrets through their union. The grim reality was that he had protected himself. He had hoped to acquire access to this Book of Confidences by marrying her.
And furthermore—he had not merely intended to guard his own truths. He would clutch the secrets of every other member of high society.
Had he harbored intentions to blackmail them? Merely days prior, she would have rejected such a notion, for despite their trials, she had deemed him an honorable man—someone who might make a wretched spouse but was not a villain. Yet that conviction now wavered.
With a shattered heart, she recognized that he had not cared for her in the least. He may have shielded her from Markham, yet this was a mere act of preservation for himself. He could have told her the truth, but he never had. In fact, he’d told more lies. He’d concealed the truth at every turn.
Eammon had done naught but deceived her. All of it had been for this wretched book.
She returned the pages into the book and tied the leather straps. Then, she threw it back in the box and stormed out of the house and back to the horse.
She had to get back to Hartford to tell Millie all she’d discovered. And then, then, she would confront Eammon and this time, she would demand he tell her everything—and then, she’d seek her freedom once and for all.
CHAPTER35
Eammon
“Lady Millie, you must inform me of my wife's whereabouts,” Eammon demanded. He had arrived at Hartford an hour prior and had finally coaxed Lady Millie into confessing that Charity was not at Hartford at all. The entire affair had been a ruse. “Why did she claim to be here?” he asked.
“Eammon,” Lady Millie said, using the name he had offered her to use when they were alone, the day he and Charity had taken her and Thomas into their confidence at the registry office. “She came to my house two nights ago and disclosed the argument you had. She confided that she needed time away to reflect, but did not think her mother would let her stay at her townhouse as she would view it as improper. She implored me to tell my mother we were en route to Hartford so that I might serve as her alibi while she went away to where she truly wished to go…”
“Which is where, Lady Millie? You must divulge this to me.”
“With all due respect, Your Grace, I shall not share any confidences,” she replied, reverting to his formal title as a servant passed them in the hall. She motioned for the drawing room then and they stepped inside before she continued. “She is my cousin. I have no sisters of my own, only brothers, and consequently, I consider both her and Eleanor as sisters. I shan’t betray her confidence. However, I shall share my honest opinion regarding your actions.”
“You need not voice it. There are many things I have done wrong—many things I regret. Yet I cannot amend them unless I am informed of her whereabouts.”
“You speak of your secrets, I imagine. The same secrets you have kept from my cousin all this time, the ones you protected with lies,” Millie stated, though her tone did not give away how she felt about this.
“I admit to having done so, but it was for her own sake.”
“Please do not invoke her safety. She has made it abundantly clear that she wishes to hear no more of this, and neither do I.”
“But it is true, at least in part. While it is as you say, there are indeed matters I should have disclosed to her, yet did not, I now lament that oversight. I wish to rectify this situation, but I cannot until I find her. So please, tell me where she might be.” After a moment's hesitation, he added. “She may well be in danger.”
“In danger?” Millie asked, her eyebrows arched in concern. “From whom? Markham?”
“Yes. I cannot say more, but there is something Charity is the key to—a dreadful secret.”
“The wretched Book of Confidences?” Millie questioned, rolling her eyes.
“You know of it?”
“I may have been born in Hartford, yet I was reared in London. Every few years, someone would mention Lord Pembroke’s Book of Confidences, and on discovering my relation to him, I would be interrogated about it. Are you asserting it is real?”
“Indeed,” he replied. “And I believe Markham—and others—desire it and would stop at nothing to get it.”
Millie surmised, “So it was part of Charity’s inheritance, and that is why Markham sought to wed her. It is why he resorted to such means even while my uncle yet lived.”
“Quite so,” he affirmed. “He and many others. Although some may have pursued her less forcefully, given your uncle passed not long ago.”
“Did you marry her for the sake of the book?” she inquired sharply.
He shook his head. “There were many reasons for which I married her. Once I have revealed the truth to her, I will gladly share all with you as well. But first, I must locate her. And then I must locate the book. As long as it is not secured, she and I are both in danger from men like Markham.”
