“Not my house,” Michaels said. “I live with my mother.”
“As do I,” Fitzsimmons agreed.
“Same here,” Dawson echoed.
“You will come to me,” Winderton said with great decision. “I’m in the Dower House. I have plenty of food and drink.” His statement was met with the sort of acclaim usually saved for conquering heroes.
And Ned had only himself to blame. Mars had warned him.Most of them don’t have the wits to light a candle, he’d said.
Now, Ned reflected on how sometimes, as an egalitarian, those he wished to help annoyed the devil out of him.
Especially when the duke wondered aloud, “You know, if Mrs. Estep does have proof like she claims, we may lose The Garland... unless the proof disappears.”
“Exactly,” Shielding agreed.
“We could help it disappear,” Winderton suggested. Heads nodded as if this was the best idea they’d ever heard.
Ned had been about to put his foot in the stirrup but now he faced them. “Here now, none of that. We do this the right way.”
Their expressions said louder than words they didn’t think the right way would work.
Ned was done arguing with them. Taking the reins, he swung up in the saddle. “It will all turn in our favor,” he promised, and set his horse in motion.
Ned’s first stop was Belvoir and, while he wasn’t a praying man in church, he was saying prayers up the drive that Mars had returned. He needed an ally. One with common sense. He couldn’t bother Balfour with all of this.
Not only was the man no longer a Logical Men’s Society member, but now his concerns were for his wife and the coming babe. Then there was the sticky problem that Winderton was his nephew. There was some bad blood between them. Ned had no desire to step in the middle of it.
He knew the moment he saw Mars’s butler’s face what the answer was. “He hasn’t returned.”
Gibson’s gaze shifted. “No, sir.”
“Did he send wordwhenhe would return?”
“No, sir.”
Ned studied the man a moment, a suspicion forming. “Did the messenger actually speak to him?”
Gibson frowned, a servant tight-lipped with his master’s secrets.
But Ned was also Mars’s physician. He knew the secrets. “He’s not at it again, is he?”
The butler shifted. “I don’t know that I should say, sir. I don’t know that I can.”
“Gibson, the last time Marsden disappeared, we both know where he went.” Mars had a taste for opium.
Ned did not approve of his friend’s occasional proclivities. Then again, Mars hadn’t asked for Ned’s opinion or permission. He claimed it was his small vice, although Ned wondered why any man,especially one as blessed with good fortune and the favorable opinion of his fellows as the earl was, would be even tempted by the damnable habit.
If he was visiting one of the city’s many dens, who knew when he’d return? Men lost days in their opium dreams.
And the Logical Men’s Society did not have days to wait.
“Please tell him I called,” Ned said to the butler.
“I will, sir.”
Ned turned and started down the steps of the stately manor, but then Gibson said, “We all worry. He hasn’t done this for some time. Don’t think that your influence is wasted on him.”
“Thank you, Gibson. We’ll both keep trying, eh?” The servant bowed agreement and Ned continued down the steps to his horse.
