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Mayhap he will tell me something of significance about what happened to his father.Her eyes opened and she slowly began to make her way back towards the schoolroom.I doubt that he will have spoken openly to Lord Addenbrook, but if Henry comes to trust me then he may very well tell me something of importance. Something that could help determine the whereabouts of his father.But then she recalled that Lord Addenbrook had spoken of Henry going to Eton and how that would take place in a few years’ time – and her heart sank. Clearly, Lord Addenbrook did not think that he would ever be able to recover his brother alive. For whatever reason, he had determined that Henry would never again return to what had once been his home.
He believed that his brother was dead.
Chapter Five
Patrick glanced up at the clock and then set down his quill.
It’s time.
Rising from his study chair, he made his way to the window and looked outside, waiting for Miss Trean and Henry to step out into the gardens. They did so at the same time every day and, for whatever reason, Patrick had found himself eager to watch them for a few minutes. He had told himself that it was simply due to his concern for his nephew, to make certain that Miss Trean was doing her duties well, but if he had to be entirely honest with himself, Patrick knew it was more than that. The governess’ gentleness with Henry was a merit to her and yet the temerity with which she had spoken to him on various occasions ought to have detracted from his opinion of her character – but for whatever reason, it had not.
“There they are.” Murmuring to himself, Patrick leaned a little closer to the window, watching Miss Trean as she took Henry’s hand and walked with him towards the rose gardens. Henry, however, soon tugged his hand out of Miss Trean’s and began to run, making the lady laugh and then call after him to be careful.
A smile spread, unbidden, across Patrick’s face.
This was not as I had intended.The smile faded as he realized the truth. When Miss Trean had been sent for, he had expected that her arrival would grant him back the freedom he had been so desperately longing for. He did not want to eventhinkabout Henry and, in many regards, wanted to pretend that he did not have a nephew, did not have a small child residing with him who called him ‘uncle’. Did not have a missing brother… Patrick wanted to return to a time when he did not have any other responsibilities besides those of a Marquess, back to when he had been able to write to his brother and have him respond.
Back to before he had lost him.
Patrick dropped his head and rubbed one hand over his eyes. His brother, James Dutton, had been missing for three months now and Patrick was quite at a loss as to what to do next. When that carriage had arrived with only Henry within, Patrick had not known what to do. It had only been on the advice of his butler that he had sent word to his brother’s estate, informing the household of what had taken place. The servants there had searched for Dutton and Patrick had sent out various men to various places to find him, but it had been to no avail. And now, whilst some of his men were still out searching, seeking out even the smallest whisper of information that might be useful, nothing had given Patrick even the tiniest encouragement.
Aware of the heaviness growing in his soul, Patrick lifted his head and looked out into the gardens again. Miss Trean had taken Henry by both hands and was swinging him around and, even from behind the glass, Patrick could hear the screams of delight.
He smiled.
Then turned and scrubbed one hand over his face, removing that particular expression. He did not need to find himself caught up with the young lady. Yes, it was good that she had done so well with Henry thus far, but mayhap he was becoming a little distracted.
And that was not like him.
“She is a governess,” he reminded himself aloud. “You are a Marquess. You ought not to be seeking out her company, nor watching her from the window. That is a little ridiculous.”
Sitting down again in his chair, Patrick closed his eyes and rested his head back. The truth was, she brought a little light into his otherwise dark world. Yes, he paraded his wealth as best he could to others and the house parties declared his joviality and humor, but Patrick was aware that he used them to hide the pain he struggled with, the confusion that surrounded him over the loss of his brother. It was easier to pretend than to face the truth: he was failing Dutton.
A scratch at the door came and Patrick called the butler to enter.
“You have a visitor, my Lord.”
“Oh?” Patrick arched one eyebrow, a little surprised to hear that someone had come to call. Perhaps it was Lord Newford come to gloat at the recent mishap, or Lord Hogarth deciding to come and steal some of Patrick’s brandy. “Who is it?”
The butler came into the room and closed the door behind him.
“I believe it is the Earl of Kingston, my Lord.”
Patrick frowned.
“I do not think I have ever been acquainted with such a gentleman.”
“I do not believe you have, my Lord, no.”
The butler stood by the door, waiting. Patrick’s frown grew but he did not make an immediate decision. It was most unusual for a gentleman that had never been acquainted with him to suddenly decide to call, even if itwasthe summertime.
“Does he wish to see around the grounds and the house itself?”
Sometimes, there were those of lower social rank than he who called at the house so that they might be shown around it, since the estate was large and the house itself very well presented – but that usually only took place when Patrick was absent.
“Lord Kingston wished only to speak to you, my Lord.”
All the more perplexed, Patrick shrugged and nodded.
