I don’t care what you meant. You don’t know what’s good for me. How could you? How dare you say that you know what’s best for me? You don’t understand and you never will.
He racked his brain, going through what he’d said and whatshe’dsaid to try and discover an error. What had he done? Had he been overbearing? Did she blame him, somehow, for Charles’ illness?
That was a new twinge of worry. Henry didn’t know Charles very well, but already he was starting to mourn the man. It wasn’t fair, to be cut down so suddenly. And what about Eleanor? What would happen to her once her father was dead?
He gave his head a little shake, reminding himself that it was none of his business anymore. He found himself in the marketplace square outside the Fairfax offices, not entirely sure why his feet had taken him there.
Glancing around, half-bewildered, Henry took in familiar sights – the flower-sellers again, pie sellers with their wares half-stale by this time of the day.
Again, he felt that itchy feeling of being watched. No matter how fast he turned, though, he couldn’t see the man with the patched coattails anywhere.
You’re going mad, you fool,he scolded himself angrily.
Putting his head down, Henry strode out of the marketplace, refusing to allow himself to meet anyone’s eye or look at anyone at all. Once he was out of the busy square, he concentrated on flagging down a hackney cab.
I want to go home,Henry thought, miserable as a child.Not back to my wretched apartment. Home. I want my family. I want to gohome.
***
When the hired cab deposited Henry outside the Willenshire family home, Henry felt so unreasonably tired that he almost collapsed right there on the gravel.
He forced himself to pay the cab driver and keep his back straight as he headed towards the house, holding it together until he passed through the door and could finally sit down with athumpon one of the hallway chairs.
“May I take your coat and hat, your lordship?” a footman asked delicately.
Henry waved a nerveless hand. “Not right now, thanks. Just… just give me a minute.”
“Who’s that?” William’s voice echoed from the depths of the house. “Is that Henry? Excellent.”
The man himself came striding down the hallway, a crumpled, dog-eared note clenched in his hand. William looked grim and focused. The sort of look he generally wore before giving one of his siblings a tedious task.
“I’m tired, William. The day I’ve had…” Henry began, but his older brother neatly cut him off.
“It’s Alex. Of course it’s Alex.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Read this.”
William thrust the crumpled note at Henry and gestured for him to smooth it out and read. Henry did so, trying not to touch the grubby notepaper more than he had to.
Your brother is here at the inn. He’s dead drunk. Come get him, or else we’ll put him out in the gutter. Settle his tab while you’re at it, won’t you? We’d hate to have to put him in the Debtors’. Soon as you like. We should have closed for the day hours ago.
“That came fromThe Sunward Side,”William explained grimly. “I haven’t seen Alex for heaven only knows how long. They know who he is, at least, so they had the sense to apply to me instead of throwing him out into the gutter. Or worse, into the debtors’ prison. You must go and collect him.”
Henry flinched. “Why me?”
“Because he needs a good talking-to, and he’s always listened to you. I’m busy, and I’m not sure I want to see him in the state he’s in. Here, take this. This should be enough for whatever bill he’s racked up, at least to satisfy them.”
He shoved a fistful of pound-notes at Henry and gestured for him to get a move on.
Henry sat where he was for a minute, staring down at the money and the note.The Sunward Sidewas a particularly seedy sort of pub, but Henry was uncomfortably aware that Alex was a regular there.
It was the sort of place where rich, drunk young fools got robbed and knifed.
“Fine,” Henry sighed. “I’ll go. But something must be done about Alex.”
“I couldn’t agree more. If you can think of what thatsomethingshould be, tell me. I’m at a loss. Take the carriage, it’s already coming round.”
