Sherbrooke Twins

James shook his head, started to get to his feet.

The man said, “No, stay right where you are. Ah, I see you’ve got your wits together again.” He stood, walked to James, and stood over him. “Hello, brother. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face.”

James looked up at him, saw the gun in his right hand leveled at his chest. “You’ve kept yourself hidden very well. You’re Georges Cadoudal’s son, aren’t you? We were right about that.”

“Yes, he was my father, at least in name.”

James understood a great deal in that moment, but it still didn’t make any sense. “You seem to believe that my father sired you. You weren’t terribly subtle what with using Douglas Sherbrooke as your name. What is your real name?”

“Douglas Sherbrooke is quite real enough.”

“How did you come to believe that you are my father’s son? How did you come to take his name?”

“I assumed my rightful name when I came to England to kill you and that dishonorable bastard from whose seed I come. It seemed only just to take his name.”

“What is your real name?”

The young man shrugged, but never did he look away from James’s face and the gun aimed at James’s chest. “My father and all my friends in France called me Louis. Louis Cadoudal. My father died insane, did you know that?”

James shook his head. “We knew he’d been assassinated.”

“Yes, an assassin shot him, and all believed he died from that, but his brain had already rotted. There were only a few who knew it. He spoke of so many things in his mad deliriums, of how your father had raped my mother; but then he would frown, and say no, rape wasn’t involved at all. Of course those were simply words spun from his madness. But I realized the truth of it the moment I saw your father. Our father.

“Don’t you think I look like him, brother? You and your damned twin, neither of you look like him, but I do. I am his firstborn son, not you, and I look like his son.”

“No, you don’t,” James said calmly. “You’re lying to yourself. You are dark like him, and you are tall like him, nothing more.” James knew he had to stay in control, knew he had to be ready. “Let us agree that my father sired you, Louis-”

“He did, damn you!”

“Very well, if he is indeed your father, it makes no difference to the succession. I am the firstborn legitimate son, so I ask why do you want to kill me? It gains you nothing but the hangman’s noose.”

“Ah, that a brother of mine could be so stupid. It will gain me everything. You see, my first goal was to kill your bastard of a father for what he did to my mother, but then I decided that if I killed him, it wasn’t enough. He’d robbed me of my rightful life. My aunt arranged for a document that shows marriage lines between our father and my mother, dated before he married your mother. All of it legal. I will be the earl of Northcliffe, wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, and it will be justice.”

“No, it will be murder. My father didn’t rape your mother. He rescued her from a French general, a man who was giving her to his cronies. He brought her back to England for your father. It was a bargain he and Georges Cadoudal made. My father wasn’t ever involved with your mother.”

“A fine tale that. Make my mother out to be a whore, to sleep with dozens of men.”

“She was raped. Listen to me.”

“No. I’ll wager both you and your brother lapped this up like cats, huh? But all of it is a lie. My father said-”

“You already said that your father was mad, that he would say one thing, then retract it. It is true that he first believed my father had raped your mother, but when it was all sorted out, he admitted he’d been wrong, particularly when your own mother finally told him she didn’t know who had made her pregnant since so many men had raped her.”

“You want me to believe that I am some unknown man’s spawn? You puking liar! Goddamn you. No one raped my mother but your damned father. Before she died, my mother told my aunt-her own sister-that it was the truth, told her that no one had raped her except for the earl of Northcliffe and that I was his son. God, I’m going to love killing you.”

“This aunt of yours-she lied. Ah, let me guess her name. Is it A

Louis laughed. “Certainly she is my aunt, just as I am my father’s son. I will become the next earl of Northcliffe. I deserve it. It is just.” He raised the gun.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

JUDITH, NOT JUDITH. But he’d heard the damning words out of the women’s mouths-out of Judith’s mouth, all that exquisite detail, and he understood it, surely he did, but he couldn’t seem to bring it into his brain and make it real to him, all the way to his soul. That cold recitation out of her mouth, the small derringer pointing at his father’s chest, it brought him focus, it enraged him. They’d figured out that A

She was standing no more than ten feet from his father. Why had his father come from behind his desk?

He knew the answer, of course. He expected James and Ollie to be hiding behind those draperies covering the glass doors onto the gardens, not him.

“Do come in, Jason,” Marie said. “No, I can’t tell you and your brother apart, but since my nephew has James, then you must be Jason. Do drop your gun, my boy, else I’ll put a bullet through your father’s chest. My precious Louis managed to cosh James on the head and drag him behind the stables. He is very likely dead now.”

“No,” Jason said. “My brother isn’t dead.”

Judith looked at him, but didn’t move the gun from his father’s chest. “Is this some sort of twin communication?”

“I don’t know, but he’s alive.”

“It won’t be long. My brother is stronger than any man I’ve ever seen. He’s been waiting for this day. He’s ready,” Judith said, then she smiled. “I wish to thank you for inviting me here to get to know your family, Jason. The truth is that I never wanted to come here; I only wanted to kill your father and be gone, but there were always people with him.” She turned to Douglas. “Even here, in your own home, your wretched wife never left your side, until now. Oh, I see now. Your precious wife isn’t part of your trap. Is Corrie part of it or just the three of you? Ah, yes, the men to do the bad business, leave the little females in a closet where they can have hysterics in private.

“Well, I’m not a weak, hysterical female, my lord. I demanded to be the one to remove you from this earth, even though my brother wanted the pleasure of it. Ah, Jason, do I see you considering perhaps throwing yourself at me? If you lift so much as a hand, I will shoot your father. Did I surprise you, Jason, when you awoke with me kissing you?”

“You know you did.”

“I had thought you would come to me, but that old crone, Lady Arbuckle, told me that you would never sleep with a woman who wasn’t your wife while under your father’s roof. The witch told me that if I had an ounce of breeding, I would know that.”

“No, I wouldn’t have come to you.”

“Do you want to know why I came to your bedchamber?”

“I was fool enough to believe that you cared for me.”

“Poor boy, did you really believe that? It was originally James I wanted, but Corrie was already in the picture, and I didn’t want to kill her. I believed I had you, but then Lady Arbuckle-that ridiculous vain old bat-told me that you were wild, not as honorable as your brother, and were known to keep a mistress. She told me you flirted with young ladies, made them fall in love with you, made them believe that it was marriage you had in mind, then walked away. It wasn’t going to happen to me.