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Chapter Twenty-Three
When Thomas opened his eyes the next day, the light in his room was not what he was expecting. Usually, he woke early, when the light was fresh and pink and hardly past dawn. He’d always enjoyed starting out the day strong, and often grew restless if he spent too long in bed.
Today, however, the light glinting in through his drapes was that of early afternoon. He sat up quickly, alarmed at having overslept with so much hanging in the balance, but immediately a sharp pain shot through his head, and he collapsed once more.
He swore. It had only been a day, but Thomas deeply wished he would recover sooner rather than later.
“Your Grace,” said his manservant several minutes later, upon seeing Thomas’ cross attitude toward being woken so late in the day. “Forgive me, but your brother requested that you be allowed to let sleep. He said it is imperative that you take the proper time to recover.”
“That may be so,” said Thomas, allowing himself to be helped out of bed. Was it just him, or did his ribs hurt even worse today? “Unfortunately, there are matters of more pressing import to attend to.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
The manservant helped Thomas dress. Despite Thomas’ rush to get on with going over the books and unearthing further details about the footman’s background, he had to take his time. Each movement sent new pain through Thomas’ body, and his ribs were indeed much worse: on both sides, sensitive purple welts spread over his skin, achy to the touch. He hissed at a particularly cumbersome motion, and would have fallen to the floor altogether had his manservant not been there to latch onto for balance.
“Steady, there,” said the manservant.
Thomas sighed. “My sides are the shade of a rotten plum, and my head feels as though it is too heavy for my neck. This is even more inconvenient than I expected it to be.”
“I am surprised at your choice of words, Your Grace,” said the manservant, releasing him once it was clear Thomas’ balance was returned.
“How so?”
“What you call ‘inconvenient,’ most individuals would call ‘horrifying.’ It is evident you have been through quite the ordeal.”
Thomas considered his words. “While that may be true, I do not presently have time to feel horrified. I have business to attend to.” He straightened himself. “Seek out my Brother, will you?”
Indeed, I shall allow myself to feel the full horror of this ordeal after Father’s murder has been solved, and Lady Evelina and I are united in full.
Thomas’ thoughts were of such intensity, he did not immediately notice the way the manservant’s face had twisted in indecision. “Well, Your Grace…”
“Hmm? Is there a problem?”
“Your Brother has gone into town. He said he shall not return until tomorrow, or possibly even the next day.”
Thomas could not believe what he was hearing. He was tempted to find some random object and throw it across the room, so great was his frustration. “Did he mention where he was going?” Thomas gritted out.
Gerard had insisted on staying in the guest wing the night before to personally keep an eye on Thomas’ recovery. So why had he just left today? Gerard was meant to be here, with him, going over the ledgers and digging up information on the footman. Not drifting off across town on nebulous errands, with no note or further information to tip Thomas off as to what he was up to. Besides that, who was to say the killer wouldn’t make an attempt on Gerard’s life as well? They needed to stay together at all costs.
“H…he did leave a note,” said the manservant, words stumbling a bit in response to Thomas’ reaction. “He instructed me to give it to you once you awoke.”
Ah, so there is a note. Perhaps my anger was too hasty.
“Very well,” said Thomas, “give it here.”
The manservant retreated from the room, and returned with an envelope bearing Gerard’s seal. He passed it to Thomas, then lingered awkwardly, awaiting further instructions.
“You are free to go,” said Thomas, waving him away.
“Do you need any assistance on your way to the dining room? I believe your Brother also requested that food be held for you, though as I understand it, the kitchen staff prepared it to be delivered to your bedside.”
Despite his irritation, Thomas felt a spark of gratitude for his brother. Even if he felt Gerard was going about the mystery of their father’s death the wrong way, it could not be denied he was at the very least trying to look out for Thomas’ health and interests. While Thomas was the elder sibling, sometimes it seemed as though the opposite was true.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Thomas, turning his back on the manservant to tear at the letter’s seal. “I shall take my late meal in the dining hall as per usual.”
“Should I… ah, should I inform your Mother that you have awoken as well?”
Thomas paused with the seal half ripped off the envelope. Guilt washed over him—in all the hours since last night’s conversation with Gerard, had he spared a single thought for their poor mother?
What was he to tell her of all of this? Should he inform her of his and Gerard’s suspicions over the late Duke’s death? Or would doing so just worry her unnecessarily?
Thomas shook the thoughts from his mind. For now, he needed to be on the same page with Gerard.
“Do not bother her presently,” Thomas told the manservant, his back still turned toward him. “I shall do so myself after I eat.”
The manservant answered in affirmative, then at last left Thomas alone. They had only conversed for a few minutes, but already Thomas felt exhausted, and had to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
How was he to go about any of this when his body was still in such dire shape? As loath as he was to admit it, perhaps Gerard had a point about Thomas needing to take proper time to recover.
Shaking his head, Thomas finished opening the envelope. He pulled out a small, neatly-folded letter, written in Gerard’s elegant penmanship.
