The door opened, and a face he hadn’t expected to see appeared.
Wearing his butler garb, one arm in a black sling, Blackheart stepped into the priestly place of solitude.
“Grey’s household will have to run without your services over the next few weeks.” Mantis grimaced at the Duke’s injured arm. “I hope this doesn’t mean Chaswick and I are going to have to bare our arses for all to see at the end of the season.”
He sincerely hoped not. If he lost the bet, he’d have to make other arrangements. Because he was seriously contemplating taking Felicity to Tissinton Towers before the season’s end.
Blackheart closed the door behind him. “Not at all, Mantis.” And then he tapped the side of his head with his good hand. “Butlering isn’t much different than running a dukedom—simply requires efficiency and management.”
“So I’m safe then?”
In answer, his friend smiled enigmatically.
“I’m sorry to have missed our morning session,” he said. “Thought I’d see how you’re holding up.” Even while making an apology, wearing a sling, Blackheart appeared imposing.
“Meditating only goes so far,” Mantis replied.
Blackheart nodded. Of course, he understood. “But regrets?”
On this, Mantis was quite confident. “None at all. I do wish, however, that we could have fleshed out who was behind—”
“The attacks originated from inside your father’s household—not your father.”
“A servant?” Mantis mentally ran through the roster of individuals working at Crest House.
“I have a man on it, and I’ll know more this afternoon. But I wanted you updated.”
Mantis nodded, glad nothing had happened during the ball last night. And seeing as he had no intention of returning there anytime soon… he exhaled. “Thank you.”
He’d be happy to begin his life with Felicity, minus that unfortunate cloud hanging over them. With the matter concluded, he and Felicity could remain in London for the rest of the season, which would allow for the repairs and renovations completed at Tissinton Towers before taking her there.
“Another reason I’ve come,” Blackheart slipped a hand in his pocket and withdrew a familiar drawstring velvet bag. “His Lordship left these sitting on his bureau.”
“Greys forgot the rings?” Mantis laughed as he shoved the small purse into his own pocket, thinking it might come in handy sometime in the future. “My thanks.”
Blackheart landed his good hand to Mantis’ shoulder. “You’ve made an excellent choice for your bride—regardless how it came about. I wish you happy.”
At the unexpected glimpse of emotion in his friend’s eyes, Mantis’ throat thickened.
He cleared it.
“My thanks, again. For everything.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
And as quickly as he arrived, Blackheart disappeared.
Shrugging off the uncomfortable sentimentality, Mantis rubbed the back of his neck.
Someone in his father’s household? But who? And why? Something Conner told him flashed in his mind. Something about his tutor…
“Mr. Rudolph says it’s far more important for a future lord to fill out before testing himself physically.”
A future lord? Assuming Mantis lived to be an old man, assuming he and Felicity produced a son… Conner’s claim to the title of lord was almost non-existent. Why would his tutor tell him that…?
“Knock knock?” This time, it was Louisa who peered around the half-open door. “I brought you tea and some biscuits and jam… We miss seeing you at Crest House and I thought you might appreciate some sustenance while you’re waiting.”
“That wasn’t necessary.” The sight of his stepmother, in an elegant gown and ornate feathered hat, standing in this very masculine abode was a jarring one.
