Page 50 of The Duke and His Jilted Bride

“Why?”

“Because you have been in my house for less than twelve hours, and I’m still not sure I trust you.”

For some reason, Frederick almost smiled at that. He drank his coffee and was quiet for a while, and Evander read a note from Poole that had come in with the papers.

“We will stay out of the way,” Frederick said eventually. “This week, I mean. Seraphina and I… We won't impose. We can occupy ourselves, though of course, we will be discreet. And then we'll go somewhere else, and we won't be under your feet. I will make this right, as much as I can.”

“I know you will try,” Evander agreed. He folded the letter. “But you must think your future through carefully. You will be seen as a rake in London. And your wife – I don’t know. What are your plans for your life now that you have made it?”

Frederick looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, Frederick? Do you have a steward? Have you engaged a land agent who knows your history? Do you know what state the London houses are in? If that is where you wish to settle, then I will stay here for the most part.” He looked at his brother directly. “But you will be a married man in London. Things will be different now. Much different than they would have been if you had just married Aurelia for a start.”

Saying the words out loud felt wrong. He didn’t want to consider Aurelia with him. Maybe it was better not to consider Aurelia at all, for the moment.

Frederick licked his lips. “I’ll do all that, I promise. I have been thinking about it. I know I don't always appear to be thinking about things, but I have been.”

“All right,” Evander said. “Yes, that is more than I expected, and I mean that without insult.” He stood and gathered his things. “Talk to Poole before you leave sometime this week. He knows men in London, I’m sure, and can give you names of people worth consulting.”

Frederick stared at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“You are my brother,” Evander said. “That has not changed, not even in the wake of your worst decisions.”

After leaving the room, he found Patrick in the entrance hall with his riding coat already on.

“Still going?” he said when Evander appeared.

“Of course.” Evander took his coat from the stand. “But I need to drop things off before we leave. Who's staying?”

“The Lord and Lady Canterbury are still recovering from the journey, I’ve been told.” Patrick adjusted his gloves, and looked at where Evander had just come from with a grimace. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. But maybe you have more pressing matters to discuss than riding… Miss Penrose mentioned she might take a walk with Mrs. Harrow. And your wife…" He paused. “She is staying in too.”

Evander paused with his coat half on. “Where is she staying?”

“Her rooms, I think,” Patrick said, unsure. “At least that's where Miss Penrose said she was last I heard.”

“She was there for breakfast too,” Evander said.

“Is that usual? Another megrim?” Patrick looked at him briefly. “Not my concern, no doubt. I’ll drop the matter for now,” he said and left it there.

Once Evander was ready, they went out through the side door into the grey of the Norfolk morning. Howes had the horses ready in the yard, Matchem and Patrick's roan mare, and Titan emerged from somewhere in the stables, apparently deciding that the riding party was worth joining.

“He kept me company last night, you know?” Patrick said, bending to scratch the dog's ear without looking up. Titan accepted this gladly. “Turned up at my door at about eleven. I let him in and kept him at the foot of the bed. Strange creature. Most masters I know wouldn’t dream of keeping their dogs as closely as you do.”

Evander looked at him. “Miss Penrose said he stayed with her.”

Patrick straightened. He was suddenly very focused on Matchem's girth. “Ah… Did she? How strange…”

“She mentioned it before I left.”

“Yes, well…” Patrick moved to check the other side with equal thoroughness. “He may have started the evening with her and migrated. Dogs do that, don’t they? At least your dogs. The others I know sleep in the kitchens where they belong. The girth is fine, by the bye.”

“Stop talking about the girth. Why would Miss Penrose lie? Where was the dog, Patrick? With you or with her?”

“With… what?”

Evander felt his brow furrow. “Where were you last night?”

Patrick finally looked up and let out a breath.