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‘What did you do?’Her delicate frame had shaken with unshed tears once she’d found out Theodosia was gone, pushing away any attempts by Ambrose to explain himself.
A hand crawled across his chest, pressing a palm against his heart. He was surprised the bloody thing was still beating.
Ambrose wore himself out to the point of exhaustion every day, traveling among his tenants and addressing their concerns, trying not to think or feel. He tried to focus on his family being made whole again, taking back everything Murphy had taken from his father. Meeting with Barnaby in Warwick to talk about the textile mills he no longer cared about. Watching as crates of books arrived for Jacinda and then seeing his sister burst into tears at the sight. Eating the dishes carefully prepared by Mrs. Dottie, barely tasting the food.
A shame really. Mrs. Dottie was an excellent cook.
His uncle, thankfully, kept to himself after Ambrose tossed him a small bag of coins. He hadn’t seen Erasmus in days and idly wondered if he’d drowned in the pond.
Ambrose would check tomorrow.
“Hell.” Draining his glass again, he resolved to go after Theodosia. Control his temper and swallow his pride in regard to her brother. Apologize to the entire family including that fucking butler who hated him.
What mattered most to him was Theodosia. First, last, and always.
* * *
Theo nearly jumpedout of her skin as the coach finally pulled up in front of Greenbriar. Briefly, she took in the freshly painted front door. The two pots full of bright red flowers which stood on either side in welcome. Exactly as she’d instructed.
I must remember to thank Rolfe.
Coates had barely opened the door when Theo leapt out. She marched up to the door with purpose as Rolfe opened it. Surprise showed on his stoic features.
“Lady Haven.”
“In the flesh. Where is Lord Haven?”
Rolfe took her cloak and kept pace beside her. “I’m not certain, my lady.”
“Have you lost my husband, Rolfe?”
“No, my lady. But Lord Haven...wanders in the evenings. Mostly no further than the terrace, where he takes a nightcap.”
“Wonderful. Coates and Stitch are outside. Have you seen Lord Erasmus?”
“No, my lady.”
Well, that at least was good news. Still, Theo marched into the drawing room and went right to the sideboard. Scotch, the kind Haven favored, sat next to a bottle of expensive French brandy. The brandy told Theo that at the very least, Erasmus hadn’t been here long enough to steal it. Perhaps she’d beaten him to Greenbriar. Her hand grabbed the brandy bottle by the neck.
But it would be best to be prepared.
Just in case Erasmus was lurking about.
* * *
Ambrose putdown the bottle of wine as the shuffle of footsteps met his ears. For a moment, he thought it might be Jacinda. She liked to berate him about Theodosia around this time every evening. It had become something of a nightly ritual. But there’d been no thump of a cane. Nor was the tread heavy. So not Rolfe. Nor Mr. Henderson, though he did shuffle somewhat. The stale smell of brandy and unwashed clothing met his nose.
“Hello, Uncle.” Ambrose didn’t turn around. “Looking for coin? I was growing concerned that I’d have to fish your body out of the pond.”
A small, impotent whine came from behind him, and Ambrose turned, lifting his brow at the sight his uncle presented. Trembling. Half-drunk. Pistol quivering in one hand. Rather interesting. Eramus looked more likely to shoot his own foot off than Ambrose.
“Is that thing even loaded?” He took another swig from the bottle, nodding in the direction of the pistol.
Honestly, Haven hadn’t given his uncle much thought as of late, considering he had more important things on his mind, like how the fuck he was going to retrieve his wife. But when he did consider Erasmus, it was to remember the words his uncle had hurled at him when Haven had found him stealing for what seemed the hundredth time.
‘I know what you did.’
He hadn’t mistaken the words nor the hatred in them. It had given Ambrose something else to consider besides Theodosia.
