The door to the room opened and Lady Bella Stewart walked in on the arm of her brother, Viscount Percy Stewart.Wonderful! I can think of no better diversion than Lady Bella, and I have not spoken to Percy in too long. He moved in their direction.
“Stewart, Lady Bella, it is good to see you both.” Slade gave a bow to Lady Bella.
“My lord! Truly, your family has had too much tragedy. Losing your brother was quite a blow. I had prayed he would survive the injuries from the accident,” Lady Bella said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
He hated this ruse. His heart was broken over the loss of his father. And the added worry was more than anyone should bear. Still, if Graham was right. If it helped identify the person responsible for the treachery, it would be worth it—if Graham lived. “Thank you, my lady.” He kissed her gloved hand, lingering a moment longer. “We appreciate your kindness. It has been a shock.” He turned to her brother. “Stewart, I hear felicitations are in order.”
“Thank you, Drake. I apologize. I mean, Your Grace.”
“Please. Both of you. It is with great reluctance that I have to accept my father’s and brother’s title.” He was telling the truth. “I realize it must be done but favor me with your familiar use of my name, for now.” He grimaced.
Stewart clapped him on the back. “I understand, Drake. I am here for you—whatever I can do,” Lord Stewart said, giving a sly look at his sister and glancing back at Slade.”
“My parents were behind us.” Stewart looked around the room. “Ah, they are with your sister and mother. I have not had a chance before but should like to offer my condolences, as well. This is all a tremendous tragedy,” he said, clasping Slade’s hand.
Slade did not realize he had been holding his breath, dreading her brother’s reaction to his courtship with Bella. Often, brothers were reticent to allow their sisters to court their friends, knowing the faults of their friends too well. Seeing his overt acceptance of it, he released a pent-up breath and nodded in appreciation.
“You have my approval,” the viscount leaned in, gripping Drake’s hand and holding it firm. “But do not hurt her,” he said.
Drake nodded in understanding. “I expected to speak to your father, as well.”
“Sister, shall you remain with me?” the viscount asked.
Slade wanted her to stay. He wanted to go back to their picnic. He did not want to deal with another death . . . even if that death was faked. He did not want to mourn the loss of a father he adored. He wished he could turn back the clock. Sadly, Slade knew he would not get his way on any of it.
A prickling at his neck made him turn and discover he was the object of Lady Evers’s scrutiny. She had been watching him, probably including the exchange with Bella and her brother. The woman needed to leave, but how soon could he manage that? He would speak with Mother later and devise something she could find agreeable.
“Your Grace,” a cloying voice said behind him.
He turned and kept a solemn look pasted on his face. “Lady Evers, I am truly sorry, but we have had a strenuous day. You will excuse me.”
Two hours later, except for Latham, the guests had departed, and the funeral and visitation were behind him. Lady Evers had retired to the guest suite. Slade still wanted to go to London, and he hoped he could convince Tabetha and his mother to go as well.
Both men sat quietly in the study and sipped on a brandy, gazing into the fire that had just been banked by the footman, Cain.
“I have a message for you,” Latham said, finally. “I ran into Wortle, and he asked me to tell you all was well. Does that mean something?” He arched a brow.
Slade wondered how much Latham knew or thought he knew. Of course, he trusted Latham with his life. There was no question of that. But there was more at stake here than in his life. Graham had had reason to believe his entire family was in danger.
He rolled the glass in his hand before taking a sip. “Where did you see him?” Slade asked, deciding to find out what Latham knew.
Latham arched a brow, appearing to mull over his answer. “I received a note asking to meet him in front of the tavern, where he originally met you.”
Slade nodded in understanding. “So, you areknowledgeable. I thought so. Oddly, it pleases me. I would not wish to handle this alone. Did he send a meeting spot?”
“Yes. He asked that you send word on when he can meet with you. The townhouse is fine, since he is connected to your family’s solicitor,” Latham added.
“It is frightening, all things considered. I have to visit.” He stopped before mentioning his brother’s name, weighing the risk of being overheard.
“Were I in your situation, I might feel the same. I plan to return to London. Care to join me?” Latham’s tone was laced with meaning.
“Thank you. I would appreciate the company. I have also asked Mother and Tabetha to come, hoping an unmarked carriage would deliver them to the house in Mayfair with little notice. Women have to endure much more than men do during a mourning period.” He sipped his drink. “I have never understood the disproportion in roles.”
“I agree. However, now is not the time to question social mores,” Latham said under his breath, motioning towards the opened door behind them. “How long will Lady Evers be in town?”
“Too long,” Slade hissed quietly. “I could turn the nuisance out today. She is casting about for someone else to sink her claws in. I made it quite clear I had no interest.”
Latham chortled. “Why do you not tell me how you feel?”
