“I, ah, no.”Cornwall shook his head vehemently.“I was invited, but I did not attend.I fell sick at the last moment.I… sometimes wonder if being there, if I might have been able to… help.”There was heavy guilt in his voice and his face as he swallowed hard, and Matthew got the impression he truly felt as though he should have been there.
Which was interesting.
“I apologize for bringing it up,” he said.“Hereford said that you’d invited his father, and I assumed.”
“Ishouldhave been there.”Cornwall looked down at his cards, but it did not seem as though he was truly seeing them.The guilt was still writ large over his expression.
Across the table, Drake looked over at them with a frown, his gaze connecting with Matthew.
Whatever was going on with Cornwall, it was not what they’d expected.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Matthew
Seeing Cornwall’s maudlin reaction, Matthew worried about pushing too hard, especially in front of witnesses, and when he gave his coin a surreptitious flip, it agreed.So, he let the topic of the hunting lodge, his father, and the other dukes drop.As they played, Cornwall rallied, but it was clear his focus was not entirely on the game.He was not playing at his usual level.
After taking some of their money, Matthew moved on, but kept an eye on Cornwall.As did Drake.
When the earl got to his feet, Matthew quickly flipped his coin again, then got to his feet to follow the earl.He sauntered from the room as if he’d just had enough of playing, and grinned when he heard the sigh of relief behind him.No one was going to question his departure.
“Cornwall,” he called out, catching the man halfway through the room.The earl stopped and turned, and his face fell when he saw who was speaking.“A moment of your time, if you will?”
Obviously bracing himself, Cornwall nodded.Perhaps he thought Matthew would want to harangue him for his father’s death, but hopefully, Matthew would be able to put the other man’s mind at ease quickly enough.
“Let me buy you a drink,” Matthew said, signaling to the barkeep before gesturing at an empty table nearby.The pub side was still fairly empty, giving them a nice selection of seating and plenty of tables between them and the other patrons.
Cornwall looked at Matthew, confusion clear in his expression, but he slowly sat down.“You want to buy me a drink?”
“You seem upset.”Matthew shrugged.Besides, a drink would likely loosen Cornwall’s tongue more than anything else.
The barkeep brought two mugs over and slid them in front of Matthew and Cornwall.Cornwall immediately took his in both hands, his fingers curling around the handle and the mug, pulling it in front of him as his head dropped down to stare into its depths.Bringing his own to his lips, Matthew took a sip and was pleasantly surprised at the taste.
“You know my father’s death was not your fault,” he said conversationally, to open the topic.
If Cornwall knew anything useful when he had not been there was questionable, but now that they’d tracked him down, Matthew felt as though he should at least attempt to find out if Cornwall knew anything.They did not have any other clues at the moment, unless Drake’s men finally tracked down Gregory’s former steward, Arthur Montblanc.
At the very least, he could discover why Cornwall had invited the former Duke of Hereford, who had already owed him a great sum of money, to the trip.Perhaps Cornwall’s guilt was because he had not known the other dukes would die as well.The note Montblanc had left Gregory certainly indicated he had not fully understood what he had become involved in.He’d wanted justice for his niece, who had been raped by Gregory’s father, but there was no reason for him to have a grudge against any of the other dukes.
Perhaps Cornwall had wanted to punish Nathanial’s father for lack of payment and had realized he would never get his money anyway, but he had not meant for the others to perish as well.
“I know.”Cornwall finally lifted the mug and took a large swig.“I do know that.”He sounded grim but firm, as though he was repeating words to himself he’d said before but did not quite believe yet.
“If you were there, you might have died alongside him and the other dukes,” Matthew pointed out.
“I know.I do keep thinking, though…” Cornwall’s voice trailed off, and he stared down into the mug again.
Drake stepped into the pub as Cornwall fell silent again and nodded to Matthew.
“Ah, here is Ormonde,” Matthew said cheerfully, as if he had just noticed Drake and not as if they’d come here together for a purpose.Lifting his hand, he gave Drake a wave.“He will tell you.Ormonde, Cornwall here is feeling a surfeit of guilt because he was invited to the trip with our fathers but was too ill to attend.”
Moving to the empty chair beside Cornwall, Drake tilted his head.He looked slightly exasperated—likely wondering what Matthew had been saying when he was not there to listen—but he did not remonstrate him.
“No reason for that,” Drake said, keeping his voice amiable and matching Matthew’s tone.“It would have done the country no good to have you dead, too.”
“Yes, but not everyone died.”Cornwall shook his head.“Your fathers.Some of the servants.None of the other noblemen.The dukes were all in the same section of the cabin.I asked Martingale.”
Martingale, being the marquess who had hosted the event.He’d survived, as had the other two marquesses and the other earl who had attended, just as Cornwall said.They’d been on the other side of the lodging when the explosion happened.
