He’d written notes not only in the margins, but on a piece of paper. This would be what he’d go by if he needed a reminder of what he’d written, even though he never used them. He had perfect recall. It was more for other people who had something to do with his books.
Once he put everything back in the drawer, Charles took out fresh paper and began writing the next chapter. He’d outlined what came next in his head since he finished the last chapter. He was invigorated to have time to put his thoughts on paper. When words flowed like this, he couldn’t put his pen down. He had to finish. The outside world didn’t exist when he wrote. He heard nothing but the pen and the sound of his breathing. Not even his valet could bring him out of his trance-like state when he was writing. Frazier knew not to disturb him. He would not hear him, or he would pretend not to hear the valet. Frazier would try in spite of this. Sometimes it worked, but only on a rare occasion.
“My lord,” Frazier began. “You must stop now and change for dinner.”
Charles didn’t hear him, didn’t even move a muscle to indicate he was going to finish. He continued on furiously writing his story out.
Frazier knew there was no stopping him. He’d let His Grace know Charles wouldn’t be joining them and why. He was sure they’d understand.
Hearing someone behind him, Frazier turned and saw the duke standing there. The valet motioned for His Grace to retreat from the study and shut the door behind them. He explained the situation to the duke, who remarkably seemed to understand. His Grace told the valet to have a tray fixed for Charles. He didn’t want his brother to stray from what made him comfortable. The duke understood his brother better than Frazier thought he would after this short time. Then again, it could be something to do with them being twins. Frazier had noticed similarities between the two men despite them not being around each other the majority of their lives.
Chapter Six
Charles made hisway down to the breakfast room the following morning. He was tired, having spent most of the night writing. He found his brother reading a newspaper from a pile to his left. He sat down and let the footman know he preferred coffee this morning.
“Good morning, Charles. I take it you had a productive evening?”
“Yes, I did, and I apologize for being absent for dinner.”
“Did you get a tray?”
Charles nodded. “Yes. It was nice to have a break. I usually don’t take any, but the food smelled too good.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” Arthur replied. “Have you plans for today? I thought we could ride the estate. I have a horse I think that will be perfect for you.”
“That would be nice. Can we look at that cottage you mentioned?”
Arthur nodded and smiled. “You don’t like your wing?”
“I do. I’m just not used to so much room with such magnificent furnishings. I’ve lived a fairly simple life.”
“Then we’ll ride to the cottage. There’s lots to see.”
A footman brought a plate filled with sausage, eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. A cup of coffee was set down as well. “This looks good,” Charles said. “And I’m sure there’s plenty to see.”
“More than we’ll be able to see today,” Arthur replied.
“I’m sure,” Charles said between mouthfuls. “Didn’t you say Roxanne and her husband live nearby?”
“Yes, they do. Neighbors.”
“Hmmm, that’s nice for her to be close by.”
“Yes, it is.”
Charles put down his fork and picked up a piece of toast. He slathered strawberry jam on it and took a bite. “How much is made here on the estate? I know the Stilton and cheddar are. What else?”
“There is much. It depends on the time of year. Jam like this, cheese, smoked meats. Mother would always give tenants a basket at Christmas filled with goods. She made sure they got a wheel of their favorite cheese and a goose for the holiday.”
“Do you carry on the tradition?”
“Yes, Daphne is looking forward to continuing what our grandmother actually started.”
“The tenants are going to love her.”
Arthur smiled. “They already do. She had me take her to meet them all after we married.”
Just then, a huge red setter came bounding into the room. Obviously, Arthur’s dog, as the beast sat down right next to his brother’s chair, his tail thumping the floor.
