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Chapter Twenty
Henry offered to let Thomas stay the night and send word back to Elvington Manor on his behalf, but Thomas refused.
“Are you quite certain?” Henry asked, as he helped Thomas slip back into his jacket. Blood from the cut above his brow now stained the collar.
Thomas ignored the wave of dizziness that came over him after standing upright. “I am. I do appreciate your offer a great deal, but it is imperative I discuss what happened with my brother in person. If whoever is behind our Father’s death just made an attempt on my life, who is to say they will not also go after Gerard?”
Henry hummed in dark agreement, and straightened Thomas’ lapel. “Very well, then. Should you need any additional assistance, you know where to find me.”
Thomas did. He was deeply grateful to Henry for all of his help and medical knowledge. He had warned Thomas that there was a good chance he would experience headaches or dizziness for a few days after such a stunning blow to the head. However, if he began to have changes in vision, or if those symptoms lasted longer than a week, it was important to seek out additional medical attention.
Thomas nodded and clapped Henry on the shoulder. “You are a good man. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you…”
Henry waved him off. “No, no. Don’t you worry about that for a moment.” After a moment of thought, he gave Thomas a teasing look. “Though it is not the worst thing to know a Duke owes me a favor.”
Thomas laughed at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the trauma of the day was not so easily forgotten. Once the carriage arrived, he could do little more than linger in the dark implications of the attack. Throughout the ride back to Elvington Manor, he found himself keeping a sharp eye out the window, for fear that he might be sequestered in yet another dark alley and attacked once more.
It wasn’t until they pulled up outside of his home that he at last breathed a sigh of relief.
“Your Grace!” the maid gasped when she opened the front door and saw the mess that had become of his face. “What has happened to you? Oh, come in, come in—I’ll go to the kitchen and fetch you some water! Would you care for some water? I will return with all haste!”
Before Thomas could respond, the maid had scurried away, lost in panicked bewilderment. He stood alone in the foyer for all of five seconds before another servant passed by and panicked as well.
“I shall send for the Dowager Duchess!” the flustered young woman cried.
Thomas seriously considered just rushing up the stairs and sequestering himself in his room, but his injuries prevented such haste. He managed to drag himself as far as the banister before he was assaulted by what had to be at least half of the household staff, barraging him with questions, demands, and for some nonsensical reason, smelling salts.
Mother, as it turned out,didend up needing smelling salts. As soon as she appeared at the top of the stairs and got a look at Thomas’ beaten-up face, she promptly held a hand to her head and declared she had been consumed by a swell of dizziness.
At least that got a portion of the staff out of Thomas’ face. He knew they meant well, but the day had been overwhelming enough as it was.
“I assure you, I have already been thoroughly examined by a physician,” Thomas declared, holding up his hands. The staff that hadn’t left his side to escort Mother to lie down shuffled a few inches back. “What I must do now is speak with Gerard. Has he already departed for the evening?”
The usually unflappable butler looked momentarily confused, but that was most likely due to the chaos surrounding Thomas. “He is not here at present, Your Grace, but I shall have him sent for immediately.”
“Very good. I shall await him in Father’s—I mean,mystudy,” Thomas said. He hesitated a moment before attempting the stairs, until the manservant who typically waited on him offered an arm of assistance. The rest of the crowd reluctantly dispersed.
When Thomas finally made it upstairs to his study, the room was dark. He waited by the chairs usually reserved for visitors while his manservant lit the candles positioned throughout the room.
Had he ever been this exhausted? The sensible course of action would have been going straight to bed, but Thomas could not do so until after speaking with Gerard. He supposed he ought to truly speak with Mother as well once she recovered from her shock at seeing him so beaten up, but to his shame, the very thought of walking her through everything that had happened today was too distressing to consider.
I shall save that conversation for the morning, Thomas resolved, as his manservant nodded a reluctant farewell and disappeared.
The room was very quiet.
Thomas did not typically continue to work after sunset, but he remembered poking his head in time and time again as a boy, wishing to claim his father’s attentions, only to find him still buried in work after supper. Now, he ran his hand over the back of the chair. He felt more like he was attending a candlelight vigil than sitting down to work.
Gerard’s distressed voice broke the silence that had draped over the room after the servant left. “Thomas? Where have you been all day? I was waiting for us to go over the ledgers, and—”
His words cut off when he took in Thomas’ appearance. For a moment, Thomas imagined seeing himself through his brother’s eyes: bruised, bloody face…hunched posture from the kicks to the ribs…jacket stained with blood and dirt—
“What happened to you?” Gerard asked.
Thomas opened his mouth to explain—where was he even to begin? But before he could,Gerard’sappearance stopped him short.
He was standing in the threshold, his clothes had the disheveled look of having been donned in haste. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks were red, as though he’d been recently upset.
“Have you been crying?” Thomas blurted.
