Devonshire, 1803

 If there was one solid trait yet to fail Sidney Reeve, future Duke of Kensington, in all his twenty-nine years alive, it would be the strong intuition and keen ability to sense when something was terribly wrong. Or about to be.

Right on cue, the sound of a loud crash below the stairs of Kensington House jerked him up from bed. The last vestige of sleep disappeared abruptly as he hurriedly tightened his dress robe and left the bedchamber at once.

With each frantic step he took down the thick, carpeted staircase, Sidney followed the sound of raised voices straight to his father’s study just by the first-floor landing. His heart grew heavy as a lone familiar voice dissolved into a mournful cry.

Something was definitely amiss. That very thought took shape as he strode through the doorway into the opulently decorated room to meet an unexpected, chaotic scene before him—one that caused a falter in his steps and set off several alarm bells ringing in his head.

The entire study was in total disarray. Bound volumes of books were strewn haphazardly across the Persian carpet rugs, shelves stripped down and positioned at odd angles as if someone had unceremoniously yanked all their contents off. The cherished paintings of all the dukes in their lineage had been pulled down and now lay carelessly atop each other on the rug. A case of writing ink had been upturned, darkening the edge of the multicolored braided centerpiece rug, the remainder of ink in the case trickling down in droplets and adding to the entire mess. What drew Sidney aback was his father’s prized sculptures made by talented sculptors at home and abroad. Some lay broken, their slabs scattered around the room, and others badly dented and almost unrecognizable. Still, it was a sight better than that of his parents facing each other, the tension between them rife and thick enough to be severed with a knife.

“You should have taken my advice, Your Grace! He has always been rumored to be an unreliable blackguard and a most underhanded man among the Ton!” Clarice Reeves, the Duchess of Kensington, and his loving mother spoke harshly in a tone ridden with emotions, as she waved a thickly bound sheave of papers in his father’s face.

“I had no bleeping idea!” Geoffrey Reeves, Duke of Kensington, retorted, his face flushed red with exertion. Sidney had never in his life seen his most amiable and veritable father looking as disturbed and disheveled as he did right then. His dress shirt was tucked loosely into his trousers, his spectacles sat askew over the bridge of his nose as sweat formed blooming ribbons along his brows. He perused the document in hand and met his wife’s agitated expression, worry evident in his dark brown eyes. “But you’ve seen his track record, Clarisse. I thought our investment agreement was clear-cut and protected. I… I had no idea he’d do this. I still want to believe this is somewhat salvageable. That this entire thing is an elaborate misconception.”

“Misconception?” Sidney’s mother looked almost exasperated. “I heard Lady Claybotham whispering with the Countess of Lindon at the Wilcox dinner last night. Half the room kept glancing furtively at me and looking away immediately. You need to stop burying your head in the sand and confront reality, your Grace.”

Clearing his throat to get both their attention, Sidney advanced closer to them as several scenarios unfolded in his head, none of them the least bit pleasant. “Mother. Father. What appears to be the problem here? I could hear your voices even in the depth of my slumber.”

His mother’s gaze flew up to his right then, her expression ashen and crestfallen. “We are ruined, my son. Ruined! The Duke of Oakley has pulled out of our business dealings. Now we may be left without a single penny to our name and a humongous pile of debts to settle as soon as possible.”

For a moment, Sidney didn’t think he’d heard right. “You mean Lord Weston, our family’s business partner?”

“I’m afraid so, son,” Lord Reeves replied with a heavy sigh as he settled dejectedly into a mahogany-hewn chair while the duchess paced restlessly across the thick Aubusson rug in a flurry of silk, taffeta, and righteous fury.

“And all this could simply have been avoided if you’d given me a listening ear, Your Grace,” she paused in her furious march to interject, her eyes shooting daggers at her husband. “I spoke relentlessly about the dangers of associating with that man, but you were cock-sure and adamant about following him around and hanging onto his every whim and desire. Now, look at our fate!”

“Hush, woman!” Lord Reeves shushed her, his tone bereft of energy and its familiar vivacity. He turned to Sidney, his eyes desperately willing for him to understand. “He said the mines in the colonies collapsed unexpectedly. The company may likely be folding up before a fortnight, but he was lucky enough to pull out his part of the investment a few weeks ago.”

“Without duly informing you?” Sidney asked, struggling to piece the disjointed, unclear pieces together. “If he knew all this, then why’d he opine to the fact that the mines and business were secure, convincing you into investing millions, as well as bringing others on board without doing his due diligence? Isn’t that what he did, or am I mistaken?”

“We shouldn’t jump… jump our guns just yet,” The Duke of Kensington stammered, righting his spectacles as he riffled through the papers the duchess had dumped unceremoniously on the oak desk.  “I’ve sent missives to the company address Oakley gave in the Americas. There has to be something salvageable from all this. Some parts of the money invested, hopefully.”

“What if it isn’t salvageable? Have you thought about the likelihood of such an occurrence?” asked Lady Reeves in a tone laced with the right amount of foreboding that sent shivers skittering down Sidney’s spine suddenly.

“Confound it all!” He swore viciously and ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. The implications of everything he’d just learned appeared as crystal clear as a frozen lake in the late winter. Even his mother was too distraught right then to comment on his vulgarity as she mumbled about distracting herself with chores and marched out of the study.

Last Season, after the dukedom had suffered a heavy financial blow involving the wreckage of their two importation ships on the Mediterranean seas, his father and their neighbor, the Duke of Oakley, Lord Weston, had partnered to invest hugely in a gold and gemstone mine scheme in the Americas. From the way Lord Weston had touted the business and presented the grandiose, mouthwatering profits, there hadn’t been any hesitation on his father’s part. Besides, the dukedom was barely afloat after the staggering losses, and the offer had sounded like a light at the end of the tunnel. Except it hadn’t been. And now they were in a great, magnanimous mess. One that could cost them everything and more.

Sidney had thought the business was doing well from the steady profits his father had been receiving in the past year. He himself had begun warming up to the arrogant and menacing Lord Weston, whom he’d openly disliked in the past. After all, his father had gotten back the spring to his steps, and his mother was once more reveling in her true nature as a hostess by organizing delightful luncheons and soirées. Even his twin brother, Jace—the charming, witty, and charismatic heartthrob of one too many a lady—had also reemerged from his subdued state and was spending his time once more hanging at Almack’s, charming the garters off the ladies. The absolute rake.

What had gone wrong? And why did the whole mine deal sound slightly murky and strange? Sidney couldn’t help pondering as different thoughts ran amok in his head. From the sudden mine collapse, Oakley’s silent withdrawal, to the probable chances that they might be returning once more to a position direr than their previous financial straits.

“Just give me some time to study these receipts and letters Oakley has sent since the beginning of our partnership,” Lord Reeves spoke suddenly, attempting a smile but failing miserably at it. “I’m sure I can fix this. There has to be something helpful in all of this, son. Refrain from beclouding your thoughts with worry. I will find a way to make amends.”

Sidney gave his father a respectful nod. “I trust your ingenuity, father. Do let me know if there is any way I can be of assistance.”

At the duke’s grateful nod, Sidney turned on his heels and left the study, but not before glimpsing the worry and hint of fear nestled deep in his father’s eyes. Shutting the door after himself, Sidney released the pent-up sigh he’d tightly held inside and rested against the thick wooden door for a moment.

A swift surge of bleakness assailed him as the full brunt of the entire situation settled weightily on his shoulders, the same way their past loss had once done. As the first half of a twin and in line for the ducal seat following his father, Sidney found himself constantly burdened with the responsibilities the near future entailed. Unlike his brother and most of his boyhood friends, who lived carefree lives and spent most of their time in gaming hells and racecourses all over London, Sidney found it to be one thing he couldn’t stop obsessing over. The torturous questions about his capabilities of making a good, honest, and fair duke, just like his father, plagued his mind constantly. Most especially the test of his tenacity and forbearance in the face of adversity, just like he’d watched his father struggle hard to maintain back in there.

Geoffrey Reeves might be a kind, mild-mannered man who was fair and generous, but he lacked the brutal force and indifferent strong will most in his position possessed. Still, that did nothing to taint Sidney’s respect and admiration for the man who’d sired him. He didn’t have the full details of the situation, but it was obvious that his father was utterly terrified of the outcome of all this.

 For the sake of his own and his entire family’s sanity, Sidney hoped the strong trepidation he felt in his heart was nothing more than a normal reaction to the unfortunate news. He hoped, with everything he held dear, that everything got sorted out. And hastily, too, for everyone’s peace of mind and utmost relief.

Oh, how he wished he could throttle and wipe the sarcastic and self-satisfactory grin that was sure to be lurking on Lord Weston’s face. The arrogant, black-hearted cad.

Just like his mother, he saw beyond the man’s exaggerated graciousness in society. There was always a strange, sinister air around the duke that always put Sidney off. Without overthinking the details of the entire situation, he already knew there was more to it than met the unassuming eye. Something didn’t appear to be right somewhere, especially with the duke’s cutthroat, coldly selfish move. Even Jace, who only saw the good in people and was the eternal fountain of optimism, would certainly agree.

Hopefully, it was all a misconception like his father had speculated earlier, and he was just judging Weston over some sour interactions in the past. For everyone’s sake, he wished that was the truth.

            ***

“Saddle up Sally at once, Philip. I am to take a long ride,” Sidney instructed a dark-haired groomsman as he strode into the family’s extensive stable barely an hour after leaving his father’s study. The immediate sharp smell of manure and the fresh-cut hay stacked almost to the roof by the corner assailed his nostrils and temporarily placed the turmoil brewing within him to the back of his mind. He felt antsy and needed to expunge the restless and uneasy feeling that’d crept up on him since the unpleasant discovery of the morning. A ride was just what he needed; it had always been the thing to recalibrate his jumbled thoughts and set him on a clearer, focused path.

“How long would you be gone, my lord?” Fenton, his valet, asked, almost out of breath from hurrying after him from the main house.

“I can’t say, but come find me at the old brook down east if Lord Wallace arrives before my return,” Sidney replied and took the reins from the groom, taking a moment to lovingly stroke the horse’s mane before swinging himself atop her.

“Very well, sir,” Fenton replied and took some steps back, making way for him.

Taking a deep breath, Sidney exhaled sharply and patted the horse’s flank with the butt of his riding crop, nudging her eastward.  “Let’s go, girl. Run!”

And the horse took off in a brisk trot that quickly transformed into a full gallop as she ate through the distance in rapid haste. Exhilaration, mixed with clarity, descended upon him; his previously scattered and tumultuous thoughts forming an assemblage and finally settling without a hitch.

Riding did that for him. Especially at the breakneck pace he and Sally had mastered in the space of the three years since he’d acquired the mount. Increasing his speed with another quick nudge to the Arabian flank, Sidney felt the wind ripple through his hair and the sharp bite of it prickling his skin as he held tightly to the reins and surrendered himself to the whims of the elements.

Approaching the sharp, roughly stacked rocks that descended into the brook below where the family’s land ended moments later, Sidney felt a great level of clarity as he brought Sally to a slow, walking trot. Stopping just by an olive tree dominating the area, he swung off the horse and tied her to a low-hanging branch of the tree before making his way down the makeshift rock steps and into the clearing where the brook ran clean and clear between well-rounded stones and budding fresh water lilies and crested dwarf irises.

Drawing in a lungful of clean, crisp air, Sidney exhaled heartily and proceeded further, only to realize his haven wasn’t as empty or unknown as he’d thought. Only one person aside from him knew this spot and had frequented it in the past.

She sat on a blanket close to the brook, just a few steps away from him. The familiar outline of her form and those gorgeous fiery ginger tresses cascading down her back revealed her identity almost instantaneously.

Lady Amelia Weston. The only daughter of the Duke of Oakley and heiress to his entire wealth and accomplishments.

Careful to avoid spooking her, he picked up a small pebble and jetted it straight into the flowing water. The sudden splashing sound forced her gaze up from the book she’d been reading, and turning, she met his gaze heads on. Immediately, a spark of thrilling sensations shot through his body, his heart accelerating into rapid beats at the sheer beauty of her face.

She was beautiful but graceful too, and oozed a robust and comforting warmth that could be felt from a distance. It was almost unreal just how stunning she’d become, considering just how pale and gangly she’d been in her girlhood years. He couldn’t help but marvel at how many changes could occur in a few short years. The ugly duckling had indeed transformed into a graceful swan, and Sidney found himself drawn to her, despite his reservations about the man who’d sired her.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, finally finding his voice. And why did it sound squeaky all of a sudden, or was that just in his imagination?

“Why, of course,” she replied and gave him a shy smile before lowering her gaze.

Sidney found himself being propelled forward hastily and chose a spot on the rocks a good distance away for propriety’s sake but close enough to inhale the sweet scent of jasmine and orange blossom emanating from her. Lecturing himself to maintain composure, he indicated the book she held tightly between long, graceful fingers. “I guess some things never do change. You’re still consumed as ever with your romance novels and love poems, I see,” he commented with a teasing smile.

Her gaze flew up to his, several emotions flitting through her eyes ranging from disbelief to surprise and a slight affront that brought a delicious spark to her emerald green eyes. “And what other content would you deem worthy of my interest now, pray tell?”

Sidney gave her a loose grin. “My apologies, my lady. I don’t mean to sound so obtuse, but I assumed your taste in literature would have grown more… more versatile by now.”

“Perhaps someone should lecture you on the detriments of assumptions, my lord,” she retorted smartly, eliciting a chuckle from him, who regarded her now with a surprisingly different outlook, his heart growing warm as each second in her company became a wistful memory.

Amelia Weston had somewhat of a bite and a firm backbone, it seemed. Silently berating himself for only thinking her a simpering, giggling society miss all these years, Sidney was about to make a fitting comeback when the sound of approaching hooves broke through the moment.

He glanced up towards the ascension where he’d left Sally and got up to his feet. “Excuse me, my lady,” he said with a smile. “I’ll be back shortly to hear your thoughts on assumptions, conclusions, and pleasant surprises. I wager that would be quite a conversation.”

Her only response was a brief smile and a perusing gaze before her attention returned to the book she’d been reading like he was nothing but a pesky, momentary distraction. Sidney didn’t have time to speculate further on that or the fact that she was there without a chaperone which was strange considering how much Oakley constantly kept her well-guarded. He headed immediately up the ascent and to the elevation, just in time to see his brother approaching at a strange pace on horseback, his expression grave and beclouded with worry.

“You have to come with me, Sidney,” Jace spoke frantically the second he reached him. “I don’t know what has happened, but father’s creditors are gathered at the house, and everything is being carted away.”

“Hell and damnations!” Sidney swore under his breath, needing no further clarification as he rushed to mount Sally immediately.

They rode back to Kensington House with intense speed and alacrity, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as numerous questions crowded his thoughts. From the number of carriages in the front yard of the family house, Sidney didn’t bother riding to the stable. He alighted beside a gentleman who was busy filling his barouche with some of his father’s prized paintings.

Holding himself back from confronting the man, Sidney hurried into the house, past the throng of people in the hallway arguing and complaining at the top of their voices, and straight to his father’s study down the hallway.

His heart went straight into overdrive at the sight of his father yanking papers off the shelves, tears streaming down his face.

“It’s all gone, son. Everything. I am totally ruined. I will never come back from this.” Lord Reeve’s voice was hollow and shaky as he indicated the paper strewn everywhere. “This is simply impossible! I thought there could still be a way to make a lot more! This is all Oakley’s fault. I bet he thinks he is the smart one for pulling out, doesn’t he? Now all our money is gone. Gone!”

Sidney felt a cold chill seize his body at once. His heartbeat suddenly began racing as if on a quest to outrun time as he stood staring at his weeping father, who appeared to have aged considerably in the short space of time since he’d been gone.

Unconsciously, he found himself turning and heading out of the study and into the noisy hallway, only to come face to face with his mother. Her usually vibrant complexion was green and sickly, but that paled in comparison to the glassy disbelief and shock frozen in her eyes. “This isn’t real, is it, son?” she asked in a tremulous tone bereft of warmth. “This is a nightmare, isn’t it? All these people would be gone if only I rested for some minutes in my bedchamber, wouldn’t they?”

Sidney had no words right then. There were no words enough to relate the overwhelming avalanche of disheartening emotions rushing through him or suitable enough to bring his mother’s desperate desire to fulfillment right then. He did the only thing that came to mind. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her into a tight hug; a move to assuage her heartache and ease the brokenness he felt inside. Except her involuntary trembling right then broke through the careful barrier he’d erected around his control, reaching deep into his soul.

In that frozen moment, Sidney Reeves made a silent vow to make sure whoever was responsible for thrusting them into such an unfortunate predicament would pay until his last drop of vengeance was appeased. Even if it was the last thing he did, he’d make sure to exact the same punishment on the person behind his family’s ruination.

 CHAPTER ONE

 London, 1805.

That morning, the streaking May sun shone through an open slit between the flowery curtains on the front casement window of the Reeves’ London Townhouse, illuminating Sidney where he stood on the stairwell landing, a patient smile curved at the corner of his lips. His mother, the Duchess of Kensington, stood before him, worrying the fringe of her black-knitted shawl as she regarded him with a haunted expression and the lingering trace of sadness in her warm green orbs.

“Are you sure I can’t accompany you, dear boy?” she asked, her tone hollow and tremulous. “I would like to see for myself how well he is faring. You know he’s always had this occasional bout of chest cough. Do you think the syrup the physician recommended has been helpful?”

“Like I said, Mother. Fleet is always crowded on Mondays. There would be a wide range of nefarious characters visiting, of which I wouldn’t want any step close to you,” Sidney spoke resolutely. At his mother’s woebegone expression, he gave a reassuring smile and rephrased his words. “I can’t take you today because I need to ensure you’re hale and hearty without any outside challenges. And do not worry. Father is faring as well as can be expected under the circumstances. I promise I’d take you soon, alright? Perhaps later in the month?”

She seemed to consider it for a moment before her countenance lightened considerably. “I’ll hold you up to it, Sidney Alexander Reeves. See if I won’t.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” He gave an exaggerated bow that elicited a soft chuckle from her and gladdened his heart instantly.

 Appraising her right then, Sidney chose to take comfort in the current twinkle in her jewel green eyes rather than fixate on her emaciated frame clad in a billowing somber grey silk dress that did nothing to cover her gaunt appearance. Ever since his father’s incarceration at Fleet’s debtors’ prison due to his inability to pay back all the debts incurred from the crash of his investment in the mining company, championed by the Duke of Oakley, his mother had been bedridden on more than four different occasions from different, unexplainable ailments. But Sidney knew it was from the heartbreak, humiliation, and pain of having her husband locked up like a common criminal and shamed for something that could have been entirely avoided. Contrary to most arranged marriages in society, his parents had married for love. Defying the suitable matches their family had chosen for them, they’d made a clandestine elopement to Gretna Green, where they’d gotten hitched to the horrors of both families. It took quite a while, but eventually, their families had accepted the union, more for the fact that it was not only beneficial to them but had eventually turned out to be a pleasantly romantic love story told at societal events for a good, long time. Sidney didn’t need to imagine how broken his mother felt in the past two years; it was evident from the wrecking toll on her health, both mind and body.

It had been two long, arduous years for her, Sidney, and his twin, Jace. They’d gone from one of the most renowned and beloved families in society to impoverished laughingstocks of the Ton. Since the terrible incident, they’d been ostracized, gossiped about, and condescended upon by almost all of their acquaintances and people they’d once called friends in high society.

 After the raiding of their properties by impatient creditors, his father had been forced to sell the bulk of land surrounding their estates to hungry vultures who’d come circling following the outbreak of the news. Things had been so dire that the bank had seized possessions of the remaining family business ventures all over England, leaving them with nothing but a pillaged estate, an empty coffer, and a small townhouse in London where they’d all moved into in the aftermath of the entire ordeal.

Shaking off the heart-numbing pain from flashes of desolate memories of the past, Sidney dropped the basket of neatly packed food Cook had prepared for his father and took his mother’s frail, bony hands, mustering up a smile. “I’ll make sure he knows you sent your love. Try not to be a worrywart in the meantime, mother. That would set my heart so much at ease.”

“Perhaps soon, when your father is finally exonerated and can return home to us,” she replied in a low whisper soaked in emotions, which sounded loud enough for him to hear and understand. He nodded and squeezed her hands reassuringly before bending to snag the basket of food.

“I’m confident things will change very soon. I need you to also keep hope alive. We will get through this together. We’ve gone through worse, haven’t we?”

She nodded frantically, her eyes shining with brimming tears and unrestrained emotions that reached out to squeeze Sidney’s heart. Fighting to regain his composure, he patted her hand and turned, heading out the door.

By the time Sidney found an empty hackney, he had himself under control, his thoughts beclouded with greater anticipation and worry. Instructing the jarvey of his destination, he settled into the hard backrest of the hackney seat, taking in the passing scenery absentmindedly as they headed down to the debtors’ prison at the east side of Fleet river, where his father had been held for two years now and counting.

Arriving at the tall, wooden gates of the hugely walled building sometime later, Sidney took in the stern-looking wardens manning the gate and found himself suddenly uncomfortable and disturbed all at once. Although having lost count of how many times he’d visited his father here, he still felt the swift flood of despair that had accompanied him on his first day. The pressure clamped tightly around his throat like a vice. His twin brother, after his first and second visits—two experiences that had left him shaken to his very core, leaving a long-lasting mark inside of him—was unwilling to return, and, for that, Sidney didn’t fault him. Unlike him, Jace bore a soft, delicate constitution and lacked the strong wherewithal to handle things of an unpleasant nature. And just like his father’s ardent request to avoid bringing his mother to see him, Geoffrey Reeves had also extended the restrictions to his second son, knowing full well of his incapacity for handling such situations in full doses.

As the gates opened and Sidney was admitted immediately after tendering his name, he was led straight to a large reserved hall that catered exclusively to wealthier nobles who’d had the misfortunes of landing there. Bare, but still maintaining a certain level of class—perhaps due to the status of most of its occupants—the room was filled with visiting families with their loved ones. Most of them had been locked up due to their crippling gambling addictions, money frauds, and bankruptcy from a business gone bad, just like his father’s predicament. Sidney gave a brisk perusal of the people in his line of vision and found that he recognized a face or two as he waited for his father to appear.

Right on cue, George Reeves strode slowly through the barrier separating the visitors from the prisoners. Sidney felt a rioting range of emotions, from swift anger, plain helplessness, and a sense of overwhelming sadness at the state of the man he’d practically worshipped in the course of his entire life.

His father, who’d once brimmed and bubbled with zest and life, now strode laboriously towards him. The encompassing smile on his face did nothing to hide the sallow pallor of his skin, his thinning hair and bald patches, or the sunken bags and dark circles under his tired eyes. A shadow of his former self, the once amiable Duke of Kensington, looked haggard, bereft of his former robustness, and appeared to shake slightly on his feet. As he lowered himself gingerly into the seat opposite him, Sidney felt his chest tighten with anger and frustration at his incapacity to rescue him from the accursed place that was slowly sucking the life out of him.

“Son, you look well,” his father commented in a voice thick and unclear, like someone coming down from a cold.

“And you look like the left side of a prized ham,” Sidney replied, smiling broadly as the Duke chuckled, an action that quickly degenerated into a fit of coughing that had him instantly on his feet and beating his back until it gradually abated.

“I’m mighty sorry, father. I had no idea your coughing had gotten this worse.”

“Oh, come off it, dear boy. Never you apologize for good humor,” his father replied, a twinkle bringing his eyes suddenly to life.

Not fully convinced, Sidney intended to probe him further, but he suddenly asked with concern etched in his tone. “How is your mother? I hope she is resting easy now and recuperating well?”

“Mother has improved greatly,” Sidney assured him immediately.

“And Jace? How does he seem to be faring?”

“As well as you can expect, causing several hearts to beat aflutter with the effortless poetry of his words.”

His father smiled knowingly. “He’s always been the ladies’ man, my dear Jace. I’ve always opined to the fact that he resembles my father. Harry was quite the bleeding poet in his time and left plenty of broken hearts in his wake when he married my mother.”

Sidney sat up, always eager to hear the heartwarming recounts of his grandfather, who’d died early in his boyhood years. “Though I’m quite sure he had better humor than Jace’s dried-out, patronizing quips,” he added in a bid to spur his father on.

It did the job because the Duke of Kensington’s face seemed to brighten up immediately, and he gave Sidney a conspiratorial smile. “Oh, I would say, in all honesty, Jace is a hoot. My father was a ladies’ man through and through. But let me tell you, it had more to do with his heavily gossiped acclaimed skills in the inner chamber than his humor.”

Sidney guffawed as the imagery became instantly vivid. He wished he’d gotten the chance to meet the man before his demise and knew without a single doubt that it would have been quite memorable.

“That reminds me, I ran into Lord Waverly here a fortnight ago,” Lord Reeves said in a low tone rife with humor.

“The Earl of Bradford? How did he get here?” Sidney asked, unable to hide a small feeling of delight at learning of the man’s imprisonment. Lord Waverly, along with some of his father’s former acquaintances, were among those they’d sought help from but had been met with abrupt denial and contempt.

“Apparently, he lost a huge drunken wager to Lord Ashburn and tried to wiggle out of it. Ashburn dragged him to court, and he’s being confined here till he pays up.”

“That is quite an interesting turn of events.”

“Oh, it certainly is,” rejoined Lord Reeves wryly. “I spent a good hour listening to his complaints about the bad-tempered fellows he’s forced to share a room with.”

Before Sidney could muster a response, a loud scuffle suddenly erupted from behind the huge wall separating the meeting area from the general courtyard.

“Git the no-good truant!” A voice yelled, followed by the loud grunt of someone being shoved. The guard who’d brought the Duke in earlier popped back in, a frown marring his countenance. “One more minute and the visit is over,” he spoke curtly before disappearing once more, taking the easy camaraderie of the moment with him.

Lord Reeves fell silent once more. The stress lines on his face appeared to have deepened in the wake of the guard’s announcement. Sidney knew it had to do with his return to indefinite confinement, and the thoughts saddened him greatly.

“Are you back in the common rooms now?” he asked.

“Yes, son. I was moved three days ago, but the experience isn’t so bleak. I’m sharing a room with a baronet from Wiltshire and two butchers who won’t stop exchanging fisticuffs over a business deal gone awry.”

Sidney saw past his father’s false cheer regarding the debilitating state of the common rooms where poor prisoners were housed. High-ranking members of society like his father, who’d fallen on hard times and couldn’t afford the private lodgings, often had no choice but to join the common rooms when their funds had all but petered out. Ever since his imprisonment, that had happened on more than five occasions due to the family’s nearly destitute state.

“I’m terribly sorry we can’t spare enough to pay for a private room for now,” Sidney said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Though I’m positive it will be sorted in a week when I earn my wage from managing Lord Sutherland’s stud farm.”

“You worry too much, Sidney,” said Lord Reeves. “I will be all right, and you shouldn’t fret. I’ve been managing well—” his enthusiastic response was immediately cut short by a sudden fit of raucous coughing that made Sidney’s heart skip a beat at its intensity. This only served to him further at his father’s blatant stubbornness.

“That is a fine way to assuage my worries. I do remember that it’s your stubborn refusal to acknowledge how bad things were at the beginning that also landed us in this situation,” he admonished lightly. “Perhaps I can revisit the apothecary and find a different medicine that might help?”

“There is no need to do that, son. This would clear up in a few days, I’m sure.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Sidney asked, struggling to keep his worry at bay. “I think it would be best to approach Lord Weston for assistance. I saw him at Brook’s a week ago but lost him in the crowds before I could strike up a conversation. I’m sure he feels more guilt about this entire situation and would be more than willing to help. He could even get a good word with the warden here—”

“Don’t you dare!” Lord Reeves yelled, taking Sidney by surprise. “Weston is a despicably dangerous man, and I’ve cautioned you times without number against being near him.”

“But you were friends for such a long time,” Sidney pointed out, slightly perturbed. “I understand he pulled out of the deal without informing you of the risks involved, but he could be the one to save our family from this horrendous situation.”

“What are you on about, dear boy?”

“Like I stated earlier. He must feel some measure of guilt, and that should be enough for him to help offset some of our debts and even get you out of here.”

“I don’t need or want his help!” Lord Reeves snapped, his eyes hard as granite. “He is to be blamed for my misfortunes and for ruining our family. If it wasn’t for his arrogance and blatant wickedness, I would have pulled out of the company before it crashed. He is no friend but a saboteur and the most despicable man I’ve ever had the misfortunes to know.”

In a split second, his father began coughing from the exertion of speaking so passionately, and Sidney stood up immediately to pat his back. His mind reeled with several unpleasant thoughts just as the guard made a reappearance.

“Visiting time is over,” he barked at the roomful of people, eliciting loud groans and mutterings.

Sidney watched as the Duke struggled up from his seat, unhappy but grateful that the cough had subsided. Just before he joined the other prisoners making a beeline for the barrier gate, he met Sidney’s gaze head-on, a clear warning in his eyes.

“Stay away from Oakley. He is resourceful and has many powerful people at his behest. It’s obvious he has a personal vendetta against me, and I wouldn’t want him targeting either you or Jace when you get on his wrong side.”

 “Very well, father.” Sidney nodded, handing him the basket of cooked meals. “I’ll be back in a week to secure a private lodging for you. In the meantime, keep yourself away from damp places, and don’t try to interfere with the butchers’ squabbles.”

Lord Reeves nodded, the former spark of humor returning to his eyes. “Send my love to your mother and Jace. And don’t hurry back here on my account, or I’d think you’re eager to trade places.”

Sidney slapped his arms across his father’s shoulder in a hug and smiled. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Take care, father.”

The Duke of Kensington gave a sharp nod and headed toward the barrier to join the others. Sidney watched as the room emptied of the prisoners, not moving an inch until his father had disappeared out of sight.

The moment the guard locked the barrier gate, his smile vanished instantly and he exhaled a pent-up breath. His father’s warning about the Duke of Oakley registered in the forefront of his mind as he left the prison for home. The thought that only one man was responsible for the devastating breakdown his family had suffered left a sour taste in the back of his throat. And Sidney found himself swearing virulently as he tried to hail a passing hackney with no luck.

Initially, he’d thought there had been some mix-up somewhere. A miscommunication perhaps between his father and Lord Weston regarding the risks involved in the mine deal. But from all of Lord Reeve’s assertions, the Duke had selfishly pulled out, planned and orchestrated with the company to feed him lies for his benefit. He’d been consistent about this claim since the beginning, and Weston had cleared every lingering doubt with how he’d ignored them following his father’s arrest.

It was all so unfair, cold, and ruthless. Everything. How could the Duke of Oakley be walking around a free man, relishing in the mine’s proceeds while his father languished in prison? How could his tables be laden with a vast repertoire of meals, and numerous carriages offering him and his family comfort, while Sidney’s minimized and rationed their sustenance and were indefinitely at the mercy of hackneys and post chaises after their last surviving family carriage had been sold to offset their crippling debts?

Lord Weston deserved to be taught a heavy lesson. There was no other way to it. He needed to be punished heavily for what he’d done to his father and their family. He needed to feel the cruel bite of helplessness and taste despair. It was time for someone to put him firmly in his place, and he was just the right person for the job.