Samuel

There had not been any changes to Haliford's will. Frederick inherited everything. Samuel would continue to receive his generous allowance from the estate. There was no mention of William, Caroline or George. All staff retained their positions. Haliford's valet would remain in employment within the house.

Though Haliford had not been the greatest father, in Sam's eyes, he was a considerate man to his staff. The now Duke of Irvine, Frederick Denyer, had the awkward task of trying to decide what to do with Caroline, and her brother George.

"Pay them out, Fred." Samuel paced the drawing room in London. "Buy a cottage in some distant village and be gone with them."

"Samuel. There's a child to consider." Frederick looked up from the financial journals he was studying to focus on his younger brother.

"You know how I feel about that!" Sam held out his palms and shook his head. "They are chisellers, and for the life of me, I know they murdered father. Anderson said, on the night father died, he and Caroline fought. He threatened to end the marriage. I am sure father discovered they are lovers, and that the child is George Somersby's." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Is that even their real names? I need to look into that too, because I can bet it's not."

"Samuel!" Fred slammed his hand down on the timber desk. "Enough! I'll hear no more. Until there is undeniable evidence, I can do nothing. It is my intention to let them live at Denbury Hall. They shall receive an allowance from the estate as you do. If, and when I marry, I will then consider rehousing them. The child is our brother." He held up his hand to silence Samuel, because he could see the fury in Sam's face, and he didn't need another onslaught of accusations. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I can do no more. You find me the evidence, and then perhaps things will change."

Fred watched his younger brother's irises meld with his pupils until black orbs raked him. Even though their eyes were identical, Frederick's never changed like this. He was sure Samuel's soul had resided, then rose, from a demon's lair. Fred had never liked being around, when this side of Samuel materialised. It had been the reason their father had sent Samuel to Eton at the age of ten. Haliford hadn't been able to cope with the dark inner strength Samuel possessed, and when his eyes took on the look of Satan, no targeted person stood a chance. "You find me evidence, Sammy, and I promise you they will both hang."

Samuel clenched his teeth and nodded once. "I will. For now, I intend to visit my old school friend Edmond Witherspoon. I fear I will be in need of assistance." This was a lie. He had no intention of visiting Edmond. He didn't want his brother knowing his movements. His mind had been made up before they had left the hall. He would return there immediately. Anderson was waiting for him, and with his help, Sam would prove his theory true.

*

The clothes were clean but worn and old. The perfect disguise. Samuel tied his dark hair back and pushed the wide brimmed hat down as low as he could. George Somersby had watched he and Frederick climb into the carriage after their father's funeral, so would assume they were both in London.

"What do you think, Anderson? Is this enough to hide my identity?"

"Oh, yes, My Lord. I think so." The butler nodded and swept his hand around the old barn. "Are the sleeping arrangements to your liking, sir?"

"I don't care about my sleeping arrangements, Anderson. I feel safer out here than I would in the Hall. I don't want to be recognised by any of the staff, because word will get to that pair, and they'll act accordingly." Sam pulled off the hat and threw it onto the pile of straw he had pushed together to form a bed. "I need to catch George and Caroline in the act of intimacy. They won't step out of line if I were in the house."

"Yes, sir. What is it you would like me to do?"

"Watch them closely. The moment he enters her room I want you to come for me." Samuel smirked. "Then we'll watch the rats scurry."

It was two nights later that Anderson rushed into the old barn. "My Lord," he called in hushed tones. "I think we might have them, sir."

Sam jumped to his feet, grabbed the old Jacket and wide brimmed Panama. "Let's do this." He rushed with Anderson toward Denbury Hall pulling on the coat and hat as he went. "I want you to hide, Anderson, but stay where you can hear what happens. If they see you, your life could be in danger. I suspect that is why father was killed. I don't want the same to happen to you."

"What of you, sir?" Anderson struggled to keep up.

"I can take care of myself. I need to witness them together first. Then I'll have a runner investigate who they really are. No point in doing that, until I see first-hand that they are lovers." Samuel grinned. "Of course, if you hear I am in trouble, I hope you will come to my aid."

"Yes, My Lord. Most certainly."

Once inside the hall Anderson lit a candelabrum. They crept up two flights of stairs until they reached George Somersby's room.

"You're sure they are in his room?" Sam murmured.

"Yes, sir. I saw her enter with my own eyes."

"You have a key?"

Anderson nodded. He had taken the key from the ring earlier and now handed it to his master.

Samuel put his ear to the door. He could definitely hear muffled noises. He put his hand on the doorknob and twisted it slowly. Locked as he suspected it would be. He inserted the key as quietly as he could, and then leaned toward Anderson and whispered, "Pass me the light, Anderson, and then hide around the landing."

"Please be careful, My Lord," Anderson whispered as he handed over the candelabra.

Sam listened again. Someone groaned. He smiled and turned the key as carefully as he could. The hasp clicked. Holding the candles high, Sam stormed into the room. George Somersby was taking Caroline from behind. Her hands were tied to the bedhead. As she turned and screamed, tears on her cheeks glistened in the light. George jumped back, completely naked. "Who the hell are you?"

Samuel pulled the hat from his head. "Well. Well. Well. What have we here? Brother fucking sister. Or should I say lover fucking lover though, Georgie, your dearest doesn't seem to be enjoying your method. Perhaps next time you should string her up completely."

"Get the fuck out of here!" George came at him with a crop in his hand. Sam dropped the candleholder, the flames extinguished as it fell, leaving the room lit by the candles on the duchess.  He caught the cane as it came down and jerked George hard against his chest.

"I've seen all I need to see. I can only guess father saw much the same, and you murdered him. Now I intend to prove you are not siblings." He shoved George backwards. "Go finish fucking because you might not get another chance."

George stumbled and gripped the bedpost. "I'll kill you first!" he yelled.

Sam nudged his head and sneered. "We'll see." He pulled the door closed, patted Anderson on the back and took the stairs two at a time.

The butler followed. He didn't speak until they were at the back door. "What will you do now, My Lord?"

"Prove they killed my father." Sam gripped Anderson's hand in a firm shake. "Thank you. I want you to be very careful, Anderson. Get some rest. I'm heading straight to London, before that bastard gets his hands on my throat."

So, Samuel was right to have suspicions. 

Chieseller -  was first recorded in 1808 as chizzel.  It was slang for 'cheat or defraud'.

Photo taken from OpenArt