Miss Harper looked taken aback at first, but then she glanced over at her son with a soft look of pride. “Yes, he reminds me of his father every day.”
Hart thought it prudent to change the subject before Trudy really got to interrogating the poor woman. “Miss Harper, we already know about Griffen’s death because we were there.”
“You were? What happened?”
“He kidnapped my wife from the Covent Garden market with the intention of using her as ransom for this mysterious journal that my father kept.”
“I heard there was an explosion, and several boats were set on fire. Are you unharmed?”
“Hart was hit by flying debris,” Lucy said. “Luckily, he has a hard head.”
“Well, that is good to hear. The other reason I came by to see you is because I did some research in my father’s files. You see, he kept meticulous records of the headlines for every edition of the paper. Cross-referenced names and dates, it took a little searching, but I found this article from years ago.” She pulled out a piece of folded newsprint and handed it to him. Halfway down the page, the headline read, “Aristocratic Sons Get Expelled from Eton.”
“Well, what does it say?” Trudy asked.
Miss Harper answered for him. “It is an article about how a group of aristocratic sons were expelled from Eton for beating a teacher almost to death.”
Trudy nodded. “Oh, yes, I remember when Henry got expelled. What trouble that boy was when he was young. My brother caned his backside in front of the whole family as punishment. The incident was quite embarrassing.”
Hart read the whole article out loud. A group of boys were all expelled from the school after beating one of the arithmetic teachers so badly he was not expected to be able to walk again. The boy’s names were all listed. The Duke of Hartwick’s son, the Duke of Lavensham’s son, the Duke of Fleming’s son, the Earl of Blackpool’s son, The Earl of Rawlings’s son, Viscount Galey’s son, and Viscount Griffen’s son. All his father’s cronies, in black and white.
“Did this group of boys comprise their club?” Miss Harper asked.
“Yes, and that incident was the genesis of our bond of friendship. One that’s lasted forty years.” A deep voice came from the doorway.
Everyone turned in their seats.
“The Duke of Fleming and Mr. Seaton,” Townson announced.
Hart stood. He looked between the two men, and their connection clicked into place. “You are the one who hired Seaton to watch over me.”
The duke nodded. “There have been too many lives sacrificed needlessly. My regrets are large. Protecting you was the least I could do for Henry.”
“Please come in.” Hart motioned for Fleming to take a seat.
The duke crossed to the seating area and gave a short bow to the ladies. “Lady Weatherby, Lady Hartwick.” He turned to Miss Harper and her son. His eyes grew wide as his gaze roamed over them. “You are she. The one he wanted to marry.”
Miss Harper gathered her son close to her side, her expression fierce. She nodded.
Hart stepped forward. “Please sit. Can you tell us what happened to Robert?”
Fleming sighed as he took a seat. “It happened so quickly. There was no time to stop it. I don’t think any of us thought Griffen would shoot Henry.” He shook his head. “And when he did, Robert was distraught as he knelt next to his father. He looked up, and I can still recall the rage that burned in his eyes. Then he was screaming at all of us. Said he’d seen the journal, that he knew all our secrets, that he would ruin all of us for allowing this to happen. Someone pulled out a gun and shot him. The moment is still seared into my memory. So rash, so reckless.”
The silence in the room was broken by a choked sob from Miss Harper. Lucy crossed to sit next to her, enveloping her hand in both of hers.
Hart stood frozen for a long moment. Finally having the answer to his brother’s death did not assuage his pain or his anger. Both still roiled in his gut. Perhaps nothing would. Grief, it seemed was not something that could be erased. It could only be grappled with, like his anxiety from the carriage explosion. He would have to find a way to live with it. He glanced over at Lucy where she comforted Miss Harper. So fierce, so loving. He knew that with Lucy by his side he could manage anything life brought them. There was just one more loose end.
“Who shot Robert?” he asked.
Fleming shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”
“You mean, you won’t.”
“Yes, I won’t. These men are my family. They mean everything to me.” Fleming ran a hand down over his face. “That year at Eton, the teacher, the one who they beat, he was—” Fleming glanced at the ladies. “Taking advantage of me in the most inappropriate way. I was smaller, weaker, and too ashamed to tell anyone what was happening to me. Henry came in quite by accident one day after classes to ask the teacher some questions and saw firsthand the abuse I was subject to. Later, when he told the others, I felt so betrayed. But he didn’t tell them to make fun of me but to gather them together to make a plan for revenge. You see, they saved me from further abuse, and they stood by me when I needed it the most.”
Hart didn’t know what to say to Fleming’s confession. It explained so much about the bond these boys had forged, but it did not excuse the actions of grown men. His heart ached at the senseless death of his brother. Not for the first time did he wish it could have been him instead that day.
Seaton stepped forward. Hart had almost forgotten the man was there; he had been so silent.
