“My cousin is dead,” Mark intoned, his profile like stone.
Nicole gasped, but the look on Mark’s face told her she should not say more in front of the minister. It had to be John who had died, but Mark wouldn’t want that side of his family discussed in front of Lord Allen.
“Good God, man. Anything I can do?” the minister asked.
Mark’s face was grim. “No, but thank you for your hospitality. I do hope we can reschedule. Next time at our house?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Lord Allen replied.
The butler handed Mark his hat and the moment their coach pulled to a stop in front of the minister’s house, Mark opened the front door, clutched Nicole’s hand, and led her quickly down the stairs toward the coach.
Once they were settled inside the conveyance, Nicole said, “It’s John, isn’t it?”
One terse nod from Mark. “I must go to my uncle’s house immediately.”
“Of course.” She nodded too. “When’s the last time you saw John?”
Mark leaned forward and braced his forearms on his thighs, staring down at his booted feet. “I’ve seen him… in passing.”
“I know you haven’t seen Regina in at least seven,” Nicole added. Regina was Mark’s other cousin. She wasthe granddaughter of Mark’s grandfather’s sister, Lady Harriet.
Mark narrowed his eyes on Nicole. “How do you know that?”
Nicole shrugged one shoulder. “Regina and I have kept in touch.”
“I see.” Mark opened the small door behind his head that connected to the driver. He turned back to face Nicole briefly. “I can drop you at our house first.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m coming with you.”
“That is not necessary,” Mark intoned.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It may be unnecessary, but I’m coming nonetheless.”
“Very well.” Clearly he didn’t want to argue with her at a time like this.
Mark hadn’t grown up close to either of his cousins, Nicole knew that, but blood was important to him. Even his blue blood. John was only thirty years old. What in heaven’s name happened? Had he got sick? A carriage accident?
Mark gave the driver his uncle’s address. Not a quarter of an hour later, they pulled to a stop in front of the grand Mayfair town house of the Duke of Colchester. Mark helped Nicole alight yet again and they hurried to the front door.
Mark pounded the brass doorknocker, but minutes passed before an elderly and somber butler opened the wide black-lacquered front door.
“His Grace isn’t taking visitors at the moment,” the butler informed them in a nasally tone, blinking at them with wide-eyed somnolence.
Mark pushed his way into the foyer, pulling Nicolein with him. “I’m General Mark Grimaldi,” he said in his most authoritative voice. “The duke’s nephew. He asked me to come.”
The butler raised his thick eyebrows and looked down his nose at the taller man, his skepticism thinly veiled, perhaps because no such nephew had ever shown himself at this residence. However, he clearly wasn’t about to argue with a man of Mark’s size and confidence. “Very well. Come with me,” he intoned.
They followed the slender man up the massive staircase and down the upper corridor. The butler knocked twice on the imposing door to his uncle’s bedchamber. “Your Grace, a General Mark Grimaldi is here to see you. Heclaimsto be your nephew.”
“Show him in,” came the duke’s reedy voice.
Nicole glanced at Mark. His nostrils flared. Uneasiness lurked in his dark eyes. He wasn’t looking forward to this, but was doing it out of duty. Duty was always on his mind.
The butler pushed open the door and Mark stepped inside with Nicole right behind him. The room was dark and smelled of peppermint and turpentine. A nurse who’d been sitting in a chair in the corner quickly stood and excused herself.
Nicole nodded to her as the woman swept past. Once she was gone, Nicole hovered near the door while Mark strode to his uncle’s bedside. The bed was strewn with handkerchiefs and a great many papers.
“Thank you, Bigsby. You may leave us,” the duke said to his butler.
