The Duchess and the Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page A

country.”
    Drake placed his hands on either side of the desk and leaned toward Albert. “How could this have happened? Albert, tell me. Am I not my father’s son? Have you but to look at me to see his face? I see him every time I look in the mirror. Why did he do this to me?”
    Albert looked down at his clasped hands in his lap, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “I do not know, my lord. I do not know.” He paused, sudden speculation in his gaze as he looked back up at Drake. “You have just reminded me of an old rumor. I have never put any stock in it, mind you, but . . .”
    “Tell me.”
    Albert shrugged. “Rumors are rarely reliable, Drake.”
    “You will tell me regardless.”
    “Well, your father did have two brothers, did he not?”
    “Yes, Cousin Randolph’s father, Clinton, dead for many years now, and Richard, the youngest brother who lives in Bristol, I believe. Quiet man, I’ve met him only once. What of it?”
    “The tale was that your mother fell in love with Richard. She was already betrothed to your father, had been since she was a young girl, but hardly knew him. Not long after the marriage Richard came to see them, and your father was away. I do not know the details and I certainly cannot believe it true—”
    A deep dread made Drake’s stomach tremble.
    “—but some say you were conceived during his visit.”
    No! The denial echoed inside him. Impossible. He couldn’t be anything other than Ivor’s son. It was unimaginable. “How could anyone think such a thing? There must be more to the story.” That anyone should question his parentage on the simple fact that his mother was alone with his uncle for a time was absurd.
    “The only fact that gives the tale some credence is that when your father returned, he banished Richard from Northumberland and said he would never see him again. No one knew exactly why, but rumor was rife, as it always is in such cases.”
    “Preposterous!” But the quaking inside him grew, threatened to become a full-blown panic. He thought of his mother, a sad, pale wraith of a woman, possessing an ethereal beauty that seemed to fade each year until she was a ghost on her deathbed. And always, that faraway look in her eyes . . .
    His hand, a balled fist in his lap, shook so that he had to press his other hand against it. He looked down, willing a stillness into his body. He would not, could not think of his mother doing such a thing. She would have never betrayed his father in such a manner. She would never have made her son illegitimate— would she?
    Drake stood and paced, pulling his shattered emotions into brisk action. “So your plan is to indenture me to the colonies? I, Drake Alexander Weston, reared to a dukedom, shall become a servant?” He let his mockery show in his smile as he looked down at the older man from his full height of six foot three inches.
    “My lord . . . that is, I see little alternative.”
    “ No! ” Drake turned to the desk, snatched up the half-empty bottle of Madeira and flung it against the wall.
    Albert sat in stunned silence, fear lighting his eyes. Drake struggled to control his emotions. He caught a glimpse of himself in a small mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Wild-eyed, unshaven, and so angry. The man who stared back was not a man he knew. The careful control bred into him since birth was gone. In its place he saw a fire-breathing dragon capable of murder.
    Yes—he saw a murderer, and it terrified him.
    Breathing fast he flung himself into the chair, his hands balling into fists. “What shall I do? What would you have me do?”
    Albert rose from his chair and handed Drake a piece of paper, then laid a bracing hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Sign this, son. Buy some time. It is your best hope.”
    Drake stared at the paper. Had the world gone mad? Sign the paper. Indeed.
    Fingers shaking, he took the quill from Albert’s hand and dipped it in the black ink. Just as he pressed tip to paper, Albert halted