To Scott. Thank you for making this all possible.
Everything Sebastian had ever known was a lie.
“You’re saying I’m no longer the duke. That I am illegitimate. Do I have that right?” Sebastian Dutton, the Duke of Hasford, spoke in a clipped, sharp tone. A tone he normally reserved for one of his dogs caught gnawing on a shoe.
This was much bigger than footwear.
Sebastian sat across from the solicitor’s desk, his cousin Thaddeus Dutton, the Earl of Kempthorne, sitting beside him.
Unlike Sebastian, Thaddeus looked as though he’d been up for hours—crisp, alert, and attentive. Likely he had; Thaddeus took his duties in service to Her Majesty very seriously. He had wanted to join the army since he and Sebastian had first played tin soldiers together.
The solicitor visibly swallowed before he replied to Sebastian’s terse statement.
“Yes. You do not have claim to being the Duke of Hasford.”
He heard Thaddeus emit a gasp, which was the most demonstrative Thaddeus ever got—his gasp was equal to another person’s dead faint.