Page 48 of Courting the Wrong Duke

He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came. Perhaps the man was simply modest.

The brothers stepped back onto Bond Street together, the afternoon bustle flowing around them. William settled the parcel beneath one arm before breaking the silence.

“I am meeting Lady Rosalind this afternoon.”

Algernon glanced toward him. “Indeed?”

“She sent word this morning requesting that I meet her and Miss Hartwell at Hatchard's. Whatever she has discovered, she considers it urgent.”

“I see.”

William hesitated. “She is in a very difficult position.”

Algernon said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“Whether society believes her father fled or met with foul play, it is she who bears the consequences. Every whisper follows her. Every unanswered question becomes another accusation.”

His brother's gaze remained fixed upon the passing traffic.

“We have known the Carlisles since childhood,” William continued. “If I can help restore the truth, I believe I have an obligation to do so.”

At length, Algernon nodded. “You are an honorable man.”

William smiled faintly. “I should have expected you to say the same of yourself.”

That earned him a puzzled look.

“I confess I am surprised.”

“By what?”

“You have done very little to discover what became of Edmund.”

Algernon's expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “I would not say that.”

“No?” William met his brother's eyes. “Then forgive me. That has been the appearance.”

For several moments, Algernon remained silent.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “Perhaps I have neglected the matter longer than I ought.”

William studied him but said nothing.

“I shall begin making inquiries of my own,” Algernon said. “If there is anything to discover, I shall discover it.”

William inclined his head. “I am glad to hear it.”

They parted at the next crossing, William continuing toward Hatchard's with his parcel tucked beneath one arm.

Behind him, Algernon remained standing upon the pavement for several moments longer, watching the traffic pass with an expression William could no longer see.

***

Hatchard's was quieter than William had expected for so late in the afternoon.

A handful of gentlemen browsed the histories near the front of the shop while two ladies stood debating the merits of a newly published volume of poetry. The familiar scent of paper, leather, and fresh ink lingered pleasantly in the air.

Rosalind and Isabella were already waiting.