Chapter 24

24

N icholas rode to London with such haste the next morning that he didn’t stop to consider what would happen when he arrived at the address on Buckingham Street . He therefore couldn’t have anticipated, upon knocking at the front door of the tidy brick terrace house, that he would set off a cacophony akin to what one might find at the Royal Circus .

A gravelly bark emanated from within, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps—a swarm of them, to be precise—and a flurry of childlike voices, which gradually grew louder and more heated.

Until suddenly, the door flew open, and a stocky bulldog sprang out, its hefty paws colliding with Nicholas’s breeches as it emitted another series of barks.

“ Oh .” From behind the overzealous dog, a small face fringed by an unruly mop of russet hair peered up at him, the boyish features creasing with disappointment. “ You’re not the deliverer from Gunter’s .”

Nicholas blinked, placing a tentative hand atop the dog’s massive white and brown head. The creature looked more like a resident of a blood sport arena than a family pet. Yet it wagged its tail enthusiastically and gave his clothing a few sniffs, its tongue lolling to the side of its thick jowls.

“ Uncle .” Another face—this one adorned by dark hair and a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles—regarded him with suspicion, although the boy did do him the courtesy of pulling the dog’s collar and commanding the animal to sit.

Benedict . The boy’s identity hit him at once, even though Nicholas had only ever seen him in passing. This was his brother Samuel’s eldest son. The boy Samuel had always kept far away from Rockliffe House , although it didn’t change Benedict’s fate as the next Marquess of Rockliffe . Just as Alexander , the younger of the pair—and the very image of Samuel —was destined to be the spare.

After a morning of hurrying, Nicholas found himself staring, motionless, with a strange ache tugging at his gut.

However , Benedict rapidly broke the gaze, giving his brother a subtle jab between the ribs and stiffly inclining his head. “ I mean, good day, my lord.”

“ My lord.” Alexander followed suit, bowing with exaggerated politeness and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. However , he quickly righted himself, and when he brought his eyes back to assess the near-stranger looming in the doorway, the bright blue— Samuel’s blue—shone with eagerness, not mistrust. “ Sorry about Achilles . He was just a bit too excited from the knock on the door. We’re all excited because we’re having a party tonight, and Mama has ordered a tray from Gunter’s filled with sweetmeats and cakes. It’s because Jeremy —he’s our new papa—has just published another novel that’s already sold over one thousand copies, and?—”

“ Be quiet, Alex ,” Benedict hissed, shoving another elbow into his side.

Alexander scowled at his brother, jostling him back but then giving a resigned sigh. “ You’re right. It’s bad manners to talk about the tray after Mama said we couldn’t have anything from it until later.” He looked down at his boots a moment, his forehead rumpling, before his head keenly popped back up, and he flashed a hopeful half-smile in Nicholas’s direction. “ But if it arrives in time, perhaps she’ll reconsider and allow us all to try a sweetmeat, seeing as how you’re a guest and a marquess.”

“ Boys ?” A female voice rang out from the top of the stairs before he could reply, and a figure— Theodora —came forward, starting down the steps before abruptly stilling. Her hand tightened around the bannister as she took him in, her features settling into a sharp glare. “ What are you doing here?”

“ Mama , have you forgotten?” Alexander turned to her, shielding his mouth with a hand and speaking in an overloud whisper. “ You’re supposed to curtsey and call him my lord .”

“ There’s no need to stand on ceremony.” Nicholas chanced a step forward, landing just short of the doorway. The reception he’d received from his nephews—and the dog—had placed him half in a stupor, and he squared his jaw, forcing himself to focus. “ I require only a moment to speak with you, Theodora , or your husband, if he’s about.”

She resumed her descent down the stairs at twice the speed, inserting herself into the space between her sons and throwing a protective arm around each boy’s shoulder. “ Why ?” Her voice contained all the warmth of an icehouse.

He may as well reveal the truth without delay. “ Regarding the whereabouts of Adolphus Clare . I have urgent need of his assistance.”

Although the movement was slight, he could have sworn he saw her shoulders drop with unknotting tension. In the next instant, though, a storm cloud passed over her features, and her fingers clenched in the folds of her skirts. “ I cannot help you, my lord .”

He quirked a brow. “ Cannot , or will not?” He had no desire to start a conflict with a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him, but nor was he in a position to give up so easily.

“ Ben , Alex .” She shifted her attention to her sons as if he hadn’t spoken, her tone brightening as she gave each boy’s shoulder a squeeze. However , her eyes continued flitting in Nicholas’s direction as if he were a marauder whose every move required scrutiny. “ I think Achilles would appreciate a walk. Why don’t you take him with you and see if Jeremy is on his way back from Hatchards yet? And please, when you find Jeremy , tell him to hurry home, for we have a visitor.”

The boys frowned in unison, and Alexander rocked back and forth from his heels to his tiptoes, folding his arms across his slender chest. “ But what if the tray from Gunter’s comes and we miss it?”

“ All the more reason to make haste.” She managed a small smile, giving her younger son’s curls a ruffle and motioning down the street.

Benedict’s eyebrows remained drawn together, and although his features bore far greater resemblance to Theodora’s than Samuel’s , Nicholas couldn’t help but think that if the boy felt so inclined, he’d accomplish an impressive imitation of the Prescott glower. Whether that should make Nicholas proud or alarmed, he couldn’t say. Whatever the case, the expression vanished as Benedict shoved his spectacles in his pocket and whistled to the dog, who immediately stood at attention.

“ Come on, I’ll race you.” He spared his brother the pithiest glance before bolting onto the pavement, setting off another blast of raucousness as both boys vied for speed, the dog trotting happily behind them.

Theodora watched them, calling a cheerful farewell that got drowned out by their loudening exchange over who was going to win. But as soon as the boys turned the corner and disappeared, she stepped to the side of the doorway with an expression like stone, making a rigid gesture toward the entryway. “ You may as well come in. I’d prefer not to draw the neighbors’ attention.”

It was hardly the most enthusiastic invitation he’d ever received, but he accepted it, following her up the stairs and into a small but comfortable sitting room with sunlit windows that overlooked the street.

Rather than take a seat, she strode to the large desk that was positioned against the farthest window, gripping the edge and staring down at the surface as if the array of paper, watercolors, and brushes it contained were of the utmost interest. He didn’t sit, either, but stopped in the middle of the floor, placing distance between them that she unquestionably wanted. Even from afar, he could see the way her knuckles turned white as her fingertips sank deeper against the wood.

Which sent his own fingers drumming rapidly along his coat sleeve and his mind grasping for something that had never been his strong suit: patience. She didn’t want to talk to him. Was apt to shut him out entirely if he pushed too hard.

And so, he waited. Waited for each heavy, lingering second to tick by, until at last, she released her grasp on the desk and spun back in his direction, her expression notably cooler. More subdued. “ I confess,” she said, “your reason for being here is far different from what I anticipated.”

He cocked his head, letting the words sink in. Prescotts may be especially good at glowering, but Theodora had a talent for displaying a whole range of emotions in the depths of her intense dark eyes. As such, he could see the contrasting mixture of trepidation and relief. Caution and concession.

All at once, understanding hit him like a blow to the gut. Due to his lengthy estrangement from the family, Samuel had never been aware of the consequences of Nicholas’s accident at Foxhill . As for Theodora … she knew . At some point after Samuel’s death, when copious debts had forced her and the boys into the dowager’s household, the dowager must have told her. She knew that, someday, her son was going to be forced into a life that Samuel had tried desperately to escape. And as such, she’d assumed that the current marquess had come to claim his heir.

He felt a sharp pinch at the bridge of his nose. “ I wouldn’t?—”

“ Yes , I know. I hope I don’t come to regret it, but I’m going to attempt to trust you on that matter. In honor of the times Samuel forgot his bitterness and spoke fondly of you.” Her eyes shot to the floor, her lips giving a small downward twitch as if she’d just experienced the same pinprick of grief he had. However , it lasted only a moment before she faced him once more, drawing her spine tall. “ Regardless , I don’t think it wise to send the elder Mr . Clare back into your clutches. Not after the fiasco in which he entangled himself out of duty to the Prescotts . The crime he was willing to commit?—”

“ For God’s sake,” he exclaimed, “ I wasn’t here. I don’t know what he did.” I’m not in a position to let it matter right now .

Her mouth became a flinty slash. “ In that case, I suggest you have a conversation with your mother.”

He gritted his teeth, the reminder of the dowager and her antics—whatever the hell they were on this occasion—sticking like a thorn in his side.

Had this visit been nothing but a mistake and a waste of time? Perhaps he’d be better off finding a detective agency after all, with the hope that the person he hired possessed the same competency as the former Rockliffe man of business.

Except , somehow, he couldn’t abandon his current path just yet. Not without giving one last attempt.

“ I intend to,” he said, forcing his jaw to unclench. “ But for now … I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important. Not to the dowager, but to me. Rather , to someone I know. Someone I … care about, very deeply. A mother who’s been wronged.” The significance of the words shot through him, the constricting sensation in his chest inundating him with the knowledge of just how genuine they were. He cared . Although , in truth, care seemed too insignificant a word to describe the feeling that radiated from the center of him and spread through his veins.

“ I see.” Theodora’s eyes widened a touch, the spark in them suggesting that she did indeed understand. For a long, uncertain moment, she gazed at him, her lips pressed into an indecipherable line. Until suddenly, she released a sigh, and with it, the hard set to her features softened. “ Jeremy and I have not kept in contact with his father. However … he’s written to us. We have his address. But you understand, of course, that I cannot divulge it without consulting Jeremy first.”

Nicholas tensed his muscles, willing his face to show nothing of the hurricane raging within him. The answer should have incensed him. He was tired of bloody waiting, wanted the information now . Yet at the same time, she’d given a conciliation. A chance that, maybe, he would get what he came for after all if he could just be patient a little longer. And if Mr . Jeremy Clare —who no doubt had a bad taste in his mouth from the Rockliffe name—felt inclined to cooperate.

“ I’ll await his return,” he uttered stiffly, taking a few steps toward the closest window. Retreating . Heading back to the window again.

Theodora , at least, voiced no objection to his continued presence. Instead , she remained where she was beside the desk, resuming her study of its contents. Alternating with glances out the window that shifted to occasional glances at him.

He followed suit—distracting himself by peering through the glass at the bustling street below. Except his eyes kept drifting to her, too. They’d never really been acquainted with one another, not after the dowager’s disapproval of the lowborn, unsuitable woman had caused Samuel to cut ties with the entirety of his family and marry as he pleased. Nicholas knew her only from afar as the poet’s daughter with whom his brother had fallen in love. The woman who’d been by Samuel’s side, forced to watch as alcohol and opium progressively consumed him, until one day, she’d become a debt-ridden widow. The woman who’d carried on, fighting above every shred of adversity she’d experienced, and was a devoted mother to the next marquess. Nicholas’s heir.

He sucked in a breath, his lungs feeling raw. There were certain phrases that he, as a marquess, had little cause to say. That truthfully, he couldn’t recall ever crossing his lips. Yet an odd lump was rising in his throat, fighting to break free. If ever there was a time …

“ I’m sorry, Theodora .” The words burst out, low and not entirely even. Because he was so damn sorry for things too numerous and difficult to name. Sorry for the estrangement, that he hadn’t done more to rectify it. Sorry that just as he’d lost a brother, she’d lost a husband. Sorry for whatever hell she’d gone through when Samuel’s debts had forced her to turn to the dowager for help. And most of all—the matter that plagued him with guilt, that prodded at him as one of his largest failings … “ About Benedict .”

She cast him an incredulous look. “ Sorry …” She mumbled the word back to herself as if she didn’t fully comprehend its meaning. After a beat of silence, though, she gave her head a quick shake. “ I don’t expect an apology for something beyond your control.”

She turned abruptly back to the window, her brow creasing in contemplation. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, letting more moments of silence settle between them before, at last, she blew out a long exhale. “ Samuel wouldn’t have wanted it,” she said quietly, and although she peered down at the street, her expression was much farther away. “ But I look at Ben —his studiousness, his determination, his sense of right and wrong—and I think … I think that perhaps, someday, he could be very good at the role.”

The words hit him sharply, penetrating far below the surface. But not like the point of a dagger or the weight of a boulder. This felt rather like … lightness. Relief .

In response, another phrase, which perhaps he too seldom found the opportunity to utter, was rising on his tongue. Thank you .

However , before he could say a thing, she pressed a finger to the glass, her face illuminating. “ Look , that’s them now.”

Sure enough, the same two curly heads that had disappeared down the street just a short time ago came around the corner at a sprint, the enthusiastic dog bounding behind them. This time, a man—whom Nicholas had only encountered once, briefly, but long enough for recognition to now set in—accompanied them, his footfalls just as hurried but decidedly grimmer.

Assuming the younger Mr . Clare could be persuaded, Nicholas was so close to getting the information he needed, after which he’d be riding to the address in question like he had flames at his heels. However , in these final moments he had alone with Theodora , there was one more thing that required saying.

“ I’d like to know him.” He stared through the window as Benedict raced along, watching as the boy shoved a windblown piece of hair out of his eyes and called something to his brother—the small copy of Samuel . “ And Alexander . If you’d let me.”

He turned to find Theodora eyeing him levelly, her arms folded across her chest. “ You’ll forgive me for not wholeheartedly throwing my sons back into the arms of the Prescott family.”

Yes . He could hardly blame her on that account. Wouldn’t try forcing her to change her mind. Even if the loss—the lack—forever left him with the sting of regret.

Yet in the next instant, she let out another sigh, her shoulders loosening. “ I’ll think on it. I do only want what’s best for my boys, and maybe … well, as I said, I’ll think on it.”

All at once, heaviness became lightness, and he could feel his lips twitch. His jaw slacken. “ Thank you.” This time, the words made it to the surface, and he brusquely dipped his chin. Watched as she did the same. The ensuing silence between them didn’t feel weighty but … conciliatory. Hopeful .

It lasted but a moment, though, before the front door creaked open, and numerous pairs of feet—and paws—barreled inside.

Nicholas pivoted toward the doorway, giving his coat a few curt tugs as the footsteps started up the stairs. Now , it was time to make amends with another, and it was crucial he succeed.

For Phoebe .