AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Nathaniel sat at the head of the table even when dining alone with his brother, and if Robbie was feeling particularly unhappy, he used proper address—Your Grace,Rothhaven,His Grace.
“We surely have somebody whose skills are adequate for building a wall.” Nathaniel set down his toast, only a single bite taken from one corner. The marmalade was bitter, but then, marmalade at Rothhaven was always bitter.
“Is there any more of that delightful cheese?” Robbie asked, pouring himself a cup of tea. “I would not want to suggest that Cook’s efforts are in any way lacking, but an omelet might be a nice addition to the breakfast buffet.”
Coming from Robbie, that was tantamount to open rebellion. He never criticized the staff, never suggested change of any kind. He believed that rigid routine helped minimize hisincidents, and who was Nathaniel to argue with that logic?
“We haven’t any more of that cheese,” Nathaniel said, “though Lady Althea might be willing to send some our way. What exactly are you getting up to in the garden?”
Robbie went off on a flight about arranging colors in a pattern consistent with the rainbow—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet—which would never in eighteen eternities have occurred to Nathaniel. Robbie had of necessity become a genius at defeating boredom, while Nathaniel…
His problem was worse than boredom, and it had dogged him without pity since last night. He’d sat at a card table for less than two hours and conversed with another adult about politics, brandy, books, and music. Even more than the warmth in Lady Althea’s sitting room, even more than her most excellent libation, the sheer companionability of the evening spent with her had swaddled Nathaniel in comfort and ease.
If his problem had been simple sexual frustration, he was acquainted with ladies in York who were amenable to a casual encounter with a fellow they knew only as Mr. Nathaniel Debenham, a wealthy squire from west of Durham.
Nathaniel hadn’t been to York in months, because those encounters didn’t help with what ailed him. In fact, they made his affliction worse, and the time spent with Lady Althea had rendered him nearly sick with his malady.
He waslonely. The word had taken years to emerge from between lists of duties, worries, and hopes, but having admitted itself to the broad light of awareness, it refused to resume a life in the shadows.
Robbie kept up a stout wall between himself and all of life beyond Rothhaven Hall, and most especially between himself and the ducal role. That meant Nathaniel was also kept at arm’s length. The servants had learned to maintain a distance as well—proper respect, they called it—and they worked hard enough without the burden of befriending eccentric aristocrats. Sorenson never presumed past cordial games of chess, but then, he had an entire parish to befriend.
And then there was Lady Althea, full of intensity and purpose, bright as a new penny, and ferocious as a mother cat.
Also damnably kissable. “I could easily make an ass of myself.”
Robbie paused, the marmalade knife in his hand. “I beg your pardon?”
“Just thinking out loud. I’m off to confer with Elgin about the state of our broodmares. Foaling will soon be upon us, and Elgin must boast of the accommodations he’s prepared for the new arrivals and their mamas.”
Would the Rothmere family ever again welcome a brand-new arrival? A ducal heir? An equally precious sister or cousin to that little boy? Nathaniel could see no way to accomplish that feat, not as long as Robbie refused to venture beyond the garden walls.
“I will see you at dinner,” Robbie replied, slathering preserves on his toast.
“Not luncheon?”
“The garden calls, Rothhaven, and rain will soon be upon us. I must do what I can when I can.”
That was a subtle scold, and Nathaniel was in no mood to be scolded. He left the breakfast parlor and stopped by the library, thinking to shuffle through the morning post before dealing with Elgin.
The penmanship on the third letter caused a vague unease to roil in his gut. He’d seen that hand before or something very like it.…
And he’d read the few words the note contained as well:I know your secrets, Your Grace, and you will pay for my silence.
Nathaniel had ignored the same warning when it had arrived a month ago, because really, what was there to do? No demand for payment had been made, no specific action threatened. He shoved the letter into the desk drawer, dropped the rest of the damned mail onto the blotter, and left through the nearest door.
“You issued a summons.” Rothhaven made a simple statement of fact into an accusation.
“You turn away all callers,” Althea retorted. “How else was I to ensure your cheese found its way to you other than by putting it directly into your keeping?” She snatched his walking stick from him the better to ensure he didn’t do an about-face and let himself back out into the night.
“The first cheese found its way into my kitchen readily enough,” Rothhaven replied, making no move to unbutton his greatcoat. “The second was assured of safe passage if its quality was anything like the first.”
“And how was I to know that?” Althea set his walking stick amid the parasols and umbrellas by the porter’s nook. “It’s not as if you sent a note thanking me.”
Rothhaven drew himself up, then leaned near, like a dragon examining the morsel it would soon toast for a snack.
“Allow me to impress upon you, my lady, the distaste I have for being hailed by royal decree to retrieve cheeses from my neighbor.”
Something had him in a temper, not merely in the usual state of annoyance he wore like a highwayman’s cloak.
