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“No, Your Grace.” Levandis shook his head as he gathered up his papers. “Normally I would meet with Harleen, but…”

“Yes, well, I suppose she will be along when she is feeling better.”

Levandis froze, the papers clutched between his fingers as he looked up at Sebastian with surprise.

“Feeling better, Your Grace?”

“Yes.” Sebastian stared back at Levandis, feeling suddenly very off-kilter at the other man’s reaction. There was something very off about it, and he had the sudden sense that he had something wrong. “She is ill, is she not?

“Your Grace…” Levandis seemed to brace himself. “Harleen is dead.”

“Dead?” Sebastian’s jaw dropped open. “I… did she… does my mother know?”

Levandis slowly sat back down in the seat that he’d gotten up from, pulling the sheaf of papers onto his lap as he did so. His face was very pale, brow furrowed in consternation under the dark fringe of hair.

“I believe so, Your Grace,” he said as if measuring each word carefully before uttering it. “My understanding is that Harleen passed at the Grange, and the funeral service was held out there. None of us were able to attend because, well, we did not know until Her Grace arrived here without her.”

“I see.” Except Sebastian did not see.

Granted, he knew his mother’s manner of dealing with grief was far removed from his own—he’d seen that when his father had died—but he had not thought she would actively hide Harleen’s death from him. Perhaps after already losing her husband, she was in some kind of grief-stricken denial? Acting as though Harleen was ill, liable to return at any moment?

Perhaps she had even convinced herself such a thing was possible.

Sebastian might need to talk to Zachary. He knew that Zachary’s mother had gone through a period of denial in the wake of the fire. She’d kept insisting that she’d needed to go to the hunting lodge to ‘find’ her husband, as if he would emerge from the woods once she appeared. When she’d finally been convinced that he had not survived, she’d collapsed and been abed for weeks afterward.

He did not know how he might prevent such a thing in his own mother, but perhaps he needed to prepare for it.

Sitting back heavily in the chair, he shook his head, shock running through his body.

“Blast. I am sorry to hear that. My mother…” His voice trailed off because Levandis was hardly the appropriate person to discuss his mother with, yet it might be necessary. After all, if she was losing her mind, even temporarily, he would need the assistance of the staff to help manage her, especially in the wake of Harleen’s demise.

Dead.

He could scarcely believe it.

“The duchess did not entirely seem herself,” Levandis offered with sympathy. “If I may be frank, Your Grace, most of us were uncertain what to think of her behavior. I did send you a message, but as I did not receive one in return, I assumed you had handled everything.”

“I never saw a message,” Sebastian replied slowly as suspicions started coalescing in his head.

What if there really was someone in his employ who was part of the conspiracy? What if Harleen had learned something or stumbled across some evidence, and the suddenness of her death was more than he’d realized?

“Do you know how she died?” he asked.

“A sudden illness is all I know. The maids and footmen with your mother seemed as shocked by it as anyone. One day, she was fine and hearty, and the next day, she started feeling poorly at supper. She excused herself from the table, and when the maid went to wake her the next morning, she was dead.” Levandis’ sorrowful expression showed how much he regretted the loss of her. As did Sebastian.

It sounded innocuous enough… but Sebastian would have to send someone to the Grange to see if he could find out more. If only for his own peace of mind.

“Terribly sad.” He shook his head. “Can you ensure that her niece and nephew receive whatever they need?” Harleen had never had children, but he knew she did have a niece and nephew whom she helped care for and support.

Real relief showed on Levandis’ face. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“There was one other question I had for you—we have a man in our employ, Aaron Heywood is his name, I believe. Tiffany remembered him with fondness and was curious if he might consider employment with the Clarence household. I do not remember him.”

“Ah, yes.” Levandis brightened at having a better answer for Sebastian than the previous one. “Mr. Heywood has been an exemplary employee, though quiet and not particularly social; he has a real way with horses. We would be sorry to lose him, though of course, it would be up to him.”

“Of course. Do you think I could speak with him while I’m here?” It was possible Drake had already found him out in the stables, but on the off chance.

Levandis gave him a slightly bewildered look.