Henry stared at him, eyes shadowed by darkness. “Tell me this is a joke.”
“I am no more pleased by the truth of it than you are, I assure you.” Sliding his palm across his face, Florian blew out a breath. “Claire did what she felt was necessary in order to save you when Bartholomew threatened your life.”
“So this is my fault?” There was no denying the affront Henry felt at such a prospect.
“God no!” That wasn’t at all what he wanted to suggest. “If anything, I fear it might be Armswell’s. He borrowed money from Bartholomew to cover his debts and then refused to pay it back.”
“He’s always been lousy at keeping his affairs in order,” Lowell muttered. “I discovered as much when I came of age and he showed me the books. Didn’t take me more than a good half hour to see our family fortune was in dire straits. Hence my investment in this.” He spread his arms to indicate the business he’d built. “It was more than a flight of fancy, Florian. It was a necessity—my own personal safeguard against Papa’s mismanagement of the family assets.”
“I had no idea. You never said.”
Henry snorted. “Between the two of us, I rather think you’re more guilty than I of keeping secrets. How long have you known you weren’t Armswell’s son?”
“Since my sixteenth birthday.”
“Fourteen years and you never thought to tell me?” Disappointment filled Henry’s eyes along with a look of distinct betrayal. He shook his head as if in disbelief.
“Discovering what Bartholomew did and that I was related to him was humiliating,” Florian tried to explain. “It tore me up inside, Henry, especially since I knew how others might judge me. I feared you would scorn me if you knew, and I dared not risk that.”
“Christ, Florian. You’re my brother, no matter what.” Rising, Henry went to fetch a decanter from a nearby side table. He grabbed a pair of tumblers as well and brought everything over to the desk. “I only wish you’d confided in me sooner. But since you have chosen to now...” He poured a large measure of brandy into each glass and handed one to Florian. “I cannot help but wonder what prompted you to do so.”
Tossing back his brandy for fortification, Florian told Henry about Bartholomew’s visit earlier in the day. “He threatened to expose me unless I have Carlton Guthrie arrested before noon tomorrow.”
“Which might be possible,” Henry murmured. “The man has been suspected of all sorts of criminal behavior over the years, but the authorities have never found anything incriminating enough to lead to his arrest.”
“Which probably means it won’t be possible for us to do so either unless we commit forgery or fraud, and I simply refuse to lower myself to such levels for any reason.”
“So you’re preempting the inevitable by ensuring the family is warned and prepared.”
“Precisely.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a chance Bartholomew might be bluffing?”
Florian shook his head. “No. I’ve just learned thathe’sthe one who had Armswell poisoned. He also arranged the duel between you and Elmwood. So I’m sure he’ll follow through on his threat if I fail to meet his demand.” He hesitated before saying, “There’s something else.”
Henry eyed him warily. “Tell me.”
“Bartholomew and Mr. Mortedge are one and the same.”
“What? But that can’t be possible. I mean, he’s been out in public without anyone taking notice!”
“The man is transformed. I hardly recognized him myself.”
Henry shook his head. “It doesn’t seem possible.” Sighing, he gave Florian a serious look. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Maybe. Bartholomew lost his fortune last year when he was arrested and yet he’s able to afford an exclusive town house. Something’s not right. If you can figure out how he’s financing his home and his investments, it might reveal that he’s guilty of fraud or theft, either of which could help with his arrest.”
“We need absolute proof before we go to the authorities,” Henry said, following his brother’s thought process. “The last thing we want is for him to go free again.”
Florian stood and went to refill his glass. “I am sorry it has come to this.” He downed yet another brandy and set the glass on the sideboard next to the decanter. “I have to get over to the hospital now so I can warn the Duchess of Tremaine about the potential impact on St. Agatha’s.”
“Any chance I might meet her one day?” Lowell asked in a pensive tone that denoted great interest. “Hardly seems fair of you, keeping her all to yourself.”
“You’re welcome to join the committee if you like. Otherwise, you’ve little chance of seeing her unless you suffer an injury. She has a severe aversion to Society and rarely ventures out in public because of it.”
“Hmmm... I wonder why.”
“And I could tell you if I had the time, but I really ought to be on my way.” He bid a hasty good-bye and thanked his brother for the drink before dashing out of the Red Rose and heading toward the hospital.
