“Yes, Your Grace,” the footman gave a quick bow.
Doctor Fellows and Mr. Wortle walked into the room as the footman escorted Lady Evers and her maid away. “Please see me in my brother’s study. I have questions.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Doctor Fellows acknowledged. “We will wait.”
Slade noticed his mother and sister huddled together for support. Their grief was unmistakable, even playing their part in this ruse. Fury welled up in his throat for whoever was behind all this grief and loss. He would make sure they were held accountable if it was the last thing he did.
Once he returned to the study, he opened Graham’s letter, keeping in mind it had been dictated.
Slade,
Sorry to have made this decision without you. You would have fought me on it. Lady Evers may need to stay close. I trust you to handle matters as you see best and expect to see you soon. Trust your instincts.
I love you, brother,
Graham
Graham was telling him something.He had a niggling feeling he would know soon if he kept his wits about him and his eyes open. For now, he needed to get through this funeral and find his way to London. He penned a quick message to Lady Bella, cancelling their outing for the next day. While he lamented having to do it, his brother needed him.
Seven
Two days later
The day had been gut-wrenching. He credited his brother for managing his funeral with little notice. Graham’s new will, created shortly after their father’s funeral, had been specific. It ordered his body not be set out for viewing, that only family should attend his burial, and that he be buried within only three days. Graham had mentioned his distaste for having the bodies sitting too long, causing his revisions to the will.
While a welcomed relief, Slade thought it strange no one found fault with Graham’s direction. The altered will proved convenient. He briefly wondered if Lady Evers felt slighted by the minimized crowd attending her betrothed’s funeral,but no.She joined late, determined to make a grand entrance, and maintaining the impression she had already given him. Each interaction with the woman made him question his brother’s decision to marry her.
The internment in the mausoleum had been quick. Once the coffin was confined and the crypt sealed, the immediate family returned to the house to greet the family and friends that had come to pay their respects. It had the appearance of being real, coupled with the snowy weather that had suddenly appeared.
Meanwhile, Slade worried about Graham and chafed at the bit to get to London to be closer to him. He felt a need to protect his brother, but from whom, he did not know. The belladonna was a dangerous poison, and an improper dosage could kill. He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, sending a silent prayer that Doctor Fellows had known the proper amount to administer, and hoping Graham had awoken from the drug-induced sleep by now.I have no plans to lose my brother and no plans to remain a duke.
“Mother, I am needed in London and plan to return when our guests leave. I wonder if you and Tabetha might join me. Much of the social scene is over, except for those few that live in Mayfair year-round. We can keep your attendance quiet.”
“Allow me to discuss it with your sister, my dear,” she said, giving a knowing nod towards his brother’s betrothed whose tearful display across the room over the loss of her ‘dearest Graham’ had several of the guests trying to help her.
“I see your point, Mother. We shall discuss it later. I was feeling the need to be closer to the ship and . . . well, ’tis all. I would find your company helpful at a time like this.”
“Your friend, Viscount Latham, showed that all was well. You are so much like your brother. You must take a deep breath and give yourself a chance to heal. We just lost your dearest father,” she returned, choking a little on emotion.
“Of course,” he said, giving her an admiring smile. His mother was right about the impact of grief, just as he had been right to tell her about Graham. It lessened one of his worries, at least.
He took a deep breath, silently petitioning for patience, as Lady Evers walked up and slid her arm through his while sniffling and dabbing her red-rimmed eyes with a lace handkerchief. She led him to where Latham stood, wearing an amused look on his face.
“Viscount Latham, I am most worried about my dearest, almost brother,” she gushed. “You must promise to allow him to stay here in Dover until he feels ready to embark on another long trek to I . . . India.”
Slade quirked a brow, looking down at her. “My dear Lady Evers, I assure you I am most capable of handling my affairs.”
“You were to be my brother and I consider you family . . .”
He cut her off as irritation flared, and something else, although he could not yet name the specific aversion. Drawing a deep breath, he pasted a smile of deference on his face. “I know you speak out of concern formyfamily.” He emphasized the wordmyand continued, “However, we find ourselves at odds with your difficulty in accepting Graham’s death, as you felt forced to remain in Brighton to complete your . . . obligations before being able to attend him.”
She looked up at him with unbridled contempt.
Slade felt justified in delivering his blow, satisfied she would know his feelings toward her shallow heart. He wanted nothing to do with her. “I must see to Mother and Tabetha, and we have more guests,” he said, carefully disengaging her arm.
“Your Grace,” she began.
“Thank you for understanding,” he said again, cutting her off. Her face told him she had more to say.
