Page 32 of The Thorn and the Rose

“Mr Hunt is in the front parlour with Mr Anson, my lord,” he said with no preamble, letting Thorn hurry past him.

Thorn let himself in, finding Ash lounging in a chair by the fire with Leo standing at the window, the cat he’d taken a shine to at Trevick draped across his shoulders like a fur stole.

“Christ, that thing’s grown enormous,” he said, momentarily diverted by the size of the huge feline, whose yellow eyes were watching him with interest.

“Yes, Mau is almost in his prime,” Leo agreed, tickling the cat under his chin.

A loud, sonorous purr immediately resounded about the room.

“Never mind that,” Thorn said, impatient to get to the point now. “Look at this. It was just forwarded from the club.”

Leo frowned and took the letter from him, scanning it. “Bloody hell.”

“Exactly,” Thorn said irritably as Leo handed it to Ash. “I’d be a fool to go and yet I can’t not go. If she really is in trouble, I’d be a proper bastard to ignore such an appeal.”

“Of course you can’t ignore it,” Ash said, getting up and stretching languorously. “We’ll all go.”

Leo glanced at him in amusement. “You’re just hoping to break some heads.”

“If it is attached to the body of the devil who is causing us such aggravation, yes, Leo, I very much am,” Ash replied calmly. “I am tired of receiving parcels containing rotting fish, and from finding the club has been attacked by children throwing paint and refuse. We’ve had three deliveries waylaid in the past month, which cost us a bloody fortune. Whilst our efforts have ceased any dangerous attacks, whoever wishes us ill is determined to hound us out of business if he can’t do us physical harm. Our turnover is already down twenty percent, might I remind you, since they began hassling the clients, too. If the coward would only show his face…”

Thorn muttered an oath, which stopped Ash’s little rant in its tracks.

“What?”

“He did show his face,” Thorn said, frowning as the memory flitted through his mind, like a half-remembered line of poetry or a few notes of a once heard tune. “At least… The night I was attacked, the man who did most of the beating seemed vaguely familiar. I’ve seen him somewhere before, I know I have, but I remember now. His eyes were hazel, like Marie’s. He really is her brother, it wasn’t just a part of the deception. So, if we could find out who she really is…”

“We’d be able to track the brother down,” Leo said. “Well, it’s worth a try. Come along then, lads, let’s get a move on.”

Thorn watched, bemused, as Cummings helped Leo into his coat, handed him his hat, and then returned Mau to his shoulders.

“You’re not seriously taking the cat too?” Thorn asked in disbelief.

Leo turned in surprise. “Of course I am. Why not? Mau loves the park, and he’d be disappointed to be left behind.”

“Won’t he run off, or get lost?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leo said, frowning. “Mau would never leave me. We’re pals.”

Thorn threw up his hands. “Fine. Bring the cat,” he said, exasperated. “Just hurry.”

Four hours later, chilled to the bone, Thorn had to concede the truth. Marie wasn’t coming.

Chapter 11

Dear Pip,

Thanks for the invitation, but I’m busy in town right now. I’ll try to visit later in the summer when things calm down. You could come here, you know. I understand why you prefer to keep Tilly at Goshen Court, but she’d be happy at Dern and the parents would be in alt. Then you could spend some time in town with us. You’re not dead yet, brother dear. You’re not even married. Come and meet Mrs Swift. She’s a lot of fun and gives the most outrageous parties. It’s time you loosened up a bit.

We hardly dare say the words out loud, but we’ve had no disgusting parcels, no deliveries interfered with, no nothing for almost a month. It’s all quiet and uneventful and bloody unnerving. I’ll let you know if this happy if unsettling state of affairs carries on or if our mysterious attacker is gearing up for something big.

Please thank Tilly for the lovely picture she sent me. I have pinned it to my wall. I have enclosed one for her and a little letter too, if you would be so good as to read it to her.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Lord Thomas Barrington to his older brother, The Right Hon’ble Philip Barrington, Earl of Ashburton (Sons of The Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Barrington, Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu).

11thAugust 1846. Goshen Court, Monmouthshire.

“You should have come when I invited you weeks ago,” Pip said, looking down at his brother with a shake of his head.