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By the time Gabe arrived at Weybourne House, he was numb and more than a little shaken after experiencing Rosewood in person and after seeing the condition of his brother. Even so, he offered a slight smile to the butler, as it was expected, and said, “Is Lord Kelling in, Poole?”
The aged servant nodded as he closed the door behind Gabe. “He is in the breakfast room, Major.”
The breakfast room? It was quite late in the afternoon already. Of course as Christian was heir to the Weybourne dukedom, Gabe supposed he could live a life of leisure these days if he was of a mind. “I remember the way,” he replied. “Thank you.”
He made his way down the corridor and through the ducal home, stopping in the doorway of the breakfast room. Sure enough, his old friend Christian Hawke, Lord Kelling, was reading that morning’s newspaper and shoveling in a spoonful of baked eggs.
“You know,” Gabe began, drawing his friend’s attention to him, “most people have already enjoyed their luncheon by now?”
And then a hand clapped Gabe on the back, startling him. He glanced quickly over his shoulder to find Chase Winslett standing there, grinning from ear to ear. “Most people don’t keep Christian’s hours.”
A genuine smile graced Gabe’s lips at the sight of the man. Once upon a time Christian, Chase and Gabe had been the best of friends from Eton and beyond. But it had been entirely too long and with wars on two continents since the three of them had been in the same room together. “Winslett, what are you doing here?”
Chase shrugged. “Christian sent a note that you were staying here with him. A little wounded you didn’t tell me yourself.”
“I just arrived last night,” Gabe replied.
“Don’t be a mother hen, Chase,” Christian complained after he swallowed down a bite of eggs. Then he pointed his spoon toward Gabe. “What did the esteemed Hill of Hall and Hill have to say, Gabe?”
“Hill of Hall and Hill?” Chase echoed, brushing past Gabe to drop into a seat across from Christian.
“Northwold’s solicitor,” Christian answered. “He’s the reason our friend here has returned to our shores.”
Chase glanced back over his shoulder at Gabe. “Well, that’s sounds perfectly mysterious.”
Gabe heaved a sigh as he strode over the threshold and claimed a chair beside Chase. “My brother is unwell.” And honestly, that was a vast understatement. “Actually, Clayton’s dying.”
“Oh, Gabe!” Chase blew out a breath.
“I am so sorry to hear it,” Christian added, his brow furrowing. “Losing one’s entire family is a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
It was a fate Christian had recently suffered himself, though he hadn’t shared any of the details; and Gabe hadn’t prodded. Selfishly, however, Gabe was focused on the current state of his own brother’s unfortunate situation instead of Christian’s late family. An awful image of Clayton flashed in Gabe’s mind. “He’s suffering the advanced stages of syphilis.” He raked a hand through his hair and winced at the memory of his brother in that room. The lesions, the mad laughter. Clayton hadn’t even recognized him, not even when Gabe told him he was his brother. “He is well and truly mad. And that place…” Gabe shook his head.
“Bedlam?” Chase asked, all levity gone from his voice.
“No, no.” Gabe shook his head once more. “Clayton apparently selected Rosewood Lunatic Asylum himself. Better than Bedlam, but I’m not sure by how much. Just stepping inside was like a visit to the outer corridors of hell.”
Both of his friends winced at hearing that.
“But he cannot stay there. I need to find somewhere else for him to go.”
“The conditions are that bad?” Christian asked.
The place was actually much cleaner than Gabe had expected, though the screams that emanated from the place were made of nightmares, and some of the caretakers had a mad look to their own eyes. “Hill is concerned about Clayton’s safety. Apparently he’s been screaming about atreasure,and that has captured undue interest from some of the people at Rosewood.”
“Since when did your brother stumble upon a treasure?” Chase asked.
“Somewhere in the dark recesses of his madness,” Gabe replied. “But someone else might think there is an actual treasure to be had, and shouting about it as Clayton apparently does, is putting himself in danger.”
“Thosehospitals—” Christian sneered the word “—are a travesty. No one should suffer inside their walls.”
“Where are the people inside to go?” Chase asked. “Roaming the streets freely? Putting the public in a constant state of danger? I daresay that would makeyournighttime activities never-ending.”
Christian glared at their friend in response.
“What?” Chase continued. “You weren’t planning on telling him?”
“I wasn’t planning on tellingyou,” Christian snapped.
