Chapter Three
M itchell arrived at Gloucester Square thirty minutes later. As he exited the carriage, he stopped short, for there was a flurry of activity. Workers were carrying furniture out of the bottom flat and taking it to the floors above, while others brought some from upstairs. Were he and Hornsby being evicted? It wouldn’t surprise him, given the constant turmoil in his life as of late.
Drew came to greet him. “Good day, Mitchell. I was hoping the laborers would complete this move by the time you arrived. We are taking the bottom flat. It’s larger anyway.”
Mitchell cocked an eyebrow in question. “And the landlord is fine with this?”
Drew pushed his spectacles up his nose with the tip of his finger. “Actually, I am the landlord. This building is mine, lock, stock, and barrel, as the saying goes.”
Mitchell shook his head. “I had assumed your family rented the flat for you. So they gave you the building?” Drew’s father was a viscount, and his uncle was the Duke of Gransford, so Mitchell figured the family had money. He had only lived with Drew for ten days, but already, he liked him. Drew had no airs about him, no guile at all. His first impression was that Drew was intelligent and honorable. A good man to have for a friend.
Drew nodded. “For my twenty-first birthday. I had it renovated three years ago. A doctor working at a free medical clinic with only intermittent paying patients makes little income, so I turned it into flats and became a landlord. There is also a four-room rental upstairs at the rear. I hope you don’t mind, but I plan to let both the upper flat and the upstairs rooms very soon. So I am rearranging some furniture and moving our belongings down here.”
“As you wish. It’s your house.” Mitchell paid next to nothing in rent, so he had no reason to object. Not that he did. Navigating those stairs was more difficult than he cared to admit. “What happened to the older gentleman renting the flat below?”
“The elderly baronet departed this morning. He is going to live with his daughter and her family in the country. I hired men to clean this flat and switch out some furniture. The baronet also gave me his housekeeper. He paid her in full until this coming May. Mrs. Evans comes daily for a few hours to clean and prepare a meal—food we can easily reheat ourselves.”
So far, he and Drew had mostly eaten in pubs, cooked fried eggs and bacon, or fried a chop. It was all either of them knew how to prepare. A housekeeper/cook was a welcome development.
Drew showed him into a large, elaborate entrance and hallway, complete with crystal chandeliers, then pointed to the front stairs. “That leads to the bedrooms. There are four, along with a water closet and a separate bathing room.” They climbed the stairs to the second level. The stairs were boarded up, cutting off access to the upper levels. “As you can see, we cannot take the stairs any farther, but if someday I wish to convert this back into a single residence, I can see it done easily enough. I had the workers put a WC on each floor in case I want to make this into four flats instead of two.”
“Very wise,” Mitchell murmured. The entrance to the upper flat was on the right side of the residence, so Mitchell had never seen the downstairs hallway.
Drew opened the first door on the left, indicating that Mitchell should step inside. “This will be your room. Do you see the door? It leads into a smaller room you can use as a sitting room, a study, or an office area. I think it was originally a drawing room or boudoir. Who knows? A fireplace makes it much cozier than the upstairs flat. The rooms are larger, too. I am across the hall, with two rooms of much the same size. At the end, there is a full bathing room with a water closet next to it. Below this flat in the basement is the large kitchen, a wine cellar, pantries, and the like. The old servants’ hall is used for storage now. And the former morning room is now the dining room, which leads into a garden area. Come, I will show you.”
They descended the stairs and entered the room. It was cozier. Mitchell immediately liked it. He followed Drew into the garden.
“Not much to look at now,” Drew said, looking around. “But the baronet liked to putter about, so come spring, it will be a lovely area to sit and indulge in quiet contemplation. Are you much of a gardener?”
“Me?” Mitchell scoffed. “Not at all.”
“I know a little, since I’m a doctor, but my greenery skills run more to herbs than flowers. We will figure something out. See that building in the back? I am toying with the idea of converting that into another couple of rooms to rent. It hasn’t been used as a carriage house in several years.”
“A wise decision.”
“We will also share the library, the sitting room, and the small formal parlor. I need the study for my medical research.”
“That’s fine by me. I will set up a small desk in the room off of mine for my work.”
“I will see that the room is prepared for you. Now, I thought we would have supper at The Victoria. It is not far from here. I shall pay, as the baronet told me to keep January’s rent as a thank you. So technically, I suppose dinner will be supplied by the baronet.”
Drew gave final instructions to the workers, then the two men left, strolling through Gloucester Square Park until they reached Strathearn Place and the pub. There was a slight chill in the air, and Mitchell pulled his wool scarf tighter across his neck. They arrived at the corner pub, a posh place situated in a Georgian-style building. Mitchell looked forward to ordering a sirloin of beef with all the fixings.
Once settled in a corner booth, they ordered their food, pints of bitter, and a bottle of red wine.
“How did you become injured, if you don’t mind me asking?” Drew asked.
“Annoyance.”
“What?”
“As I mentioned before, The Rakes of St. Regent’s Park asked me to join their group. I hesitated, as its members are either peerage, wealthy, or both. Why were they interested in me? Obviously, it was my connection to Damon Cranston, who heads the group. And I made friends with another member, Viscount of Tensbridge. I admit I was flattered, until I discovered they wanted to use me as a connection within the police department. At least, that is how it seemed to me. I categorically refused to assist them in their schemes.”
Drew gave him a quirky smile. “Come now. I am sure that was not the only reason they asked. I know the club started out as a group of indolent young rakes drinking and bragging about their conquests with women, but in the past year and a half, they have changed their focus to charity ventures.”
Mitchell took a long swallow of the bitter. “The charity initiatives were why I briefly considered joining. But assisting them with legal difficulties wasn’t the only reason they asked me to join. It was friendship as well. I came to realize that soon enough. So I joined the scheme and was shot for my trouble.”
“And yet, even though you initially refused to assist, you barreled into Notting Dale with policemen in tow.”
“Yes. While recovering, I received a dressing down from Inspector Stanhope for the misuse of police resources. Still, by the end of the reprimand, the inspector grudgingly admitted that the police had ignored Notting Dale for far too long.” Mitchell paused. “On a deeper level, I wanted to protect my friends.”
“But you cannot discuss the particulars,” Drew murmured.
“It is not my story to tell.” No, that was Oliver Wollstonecraft, Viscount Tensbridge’s story. Tensbridge’s secret life as a vigilante in Notting Dale was the reason they met. Claudia Ellingford had worked for the Galway Investigative Agency. The three of them became immersed in quite the adventure, culminating in the confrontation with Danaher. Oliver and Claudia were now off on a five-month-long honeymoon to Spain and Scotland. Mitchell had missed the small wedding due to his injury, but they’d come to see him before they departed. He and Oliver had become good friends—Claudia, too.
Mitchell glanced at Drew, reflectively studying him from across the table. Drew was very different from Damon. He was much more self-contained. Though Mitchell supposed the same could be said for him, to a point. Except where the baroness was concerned.
Mitchell took another swig of his drink. “I found Hallahan.”
“Well, you are good at your job,” Drew said, smiling.
“It was luck, pure and simple. Hallahan has a reputation, though according to a source, he no longer runs a brothel. By all accounts, he is trying to run a more legitimate business. I walked by, and the place was packed to the rafters. I admit the food odors emitting from inside were enticing.”
“Did you go in?” Drew asked as the server delivered their beefsteaks. Mitchell delayed his response until the waiter departed.
“No. I thought I’d wait until we could go together. He is huge, taller than both of us and muscular. And he has dark hair. But get this: the man I spoke to described him by saying, ‘he has blue eyes like yours.’ Imagine.”
Drew shook his head. “That appears to be the one feature that all of the duke’s progeny share.”
Mitchell grunted in the affirmative as he cut into his beef. “When will you be seeing your father next?”
“Tomorrow. I am invited to a family dinner. They came to London for shopping but are heading back to the country estate in East Sussex for Christmas in a few days.”
“Are you going with them?”
“Not this year. Why do you ask?”
Mitchell shook his head. “Never mind. Your viscount father is only in town a few more days. I’ll find another way.”
“Go on, tell me. My father knows just about everyone worth knowing and some who are not. He runs a large progressive caucus within The House of Lords.”
“I need information on the new Baron Addington. My appointment this afternoon was with Lady Addington. They are estranged, and she wishes me to follow him, to find out what he is doing with his days. But first, I need background information on him.”
Drew took a forkful of roasted potatoes. “I will discover what I can.” He ate the food and swallowed, then gave Mitchell a sly smile. “The baroness? The very one that nursed you back to health? The one you gazed at yearningly when she came into the room?”
Mitchell snarled in response.
“Easy… I shouldn’t tease. I usually do not display such mawkish behavior. But I feel at ease around you and let down my guard. I want us to be honest with each other and, yes, be more than doctor and patient, or landlord and tenant. I want us to become friends. And if you think it possible, at some point, brothers.”
“You have siblings, don’t you? With the Hornsbys?” Mitchell asked gruffly.
“I do,” Drew replied as he sipped his wine. “Brother Hayden, and sisters Covina and Clarrisa. But I am quite a bit older than they are.”
“Just how old are you? I never asked.”
“Twenty-five. I will be twenty-six at the end of this coming March.”
As young as all that? Mitchell might have guessed around thirty.
“You look shocked,” Drew stated.
“I am, rather.”
“And your age?”
“Thirty-two. My thirty-third birthday is this coming June.”
Drew cut into his steak. “I always wanted an older brother. Now I have two.”
“And probably more than we’d ever want or need,” Mitchell replied sardonically. “Do not forget the four youngsters coming to live with Damon and Althea next month.”
“That is right. I told Damon I would stop by in the new year to meet them.”
“As to us being friends, we can do that,” Mitchell said as he cut into his beef. “We will take the brother thing as it goes.”
Drew gave him a warm smile and lifted his wine glass. “To The Duke’s Bastards.”
Mitchell picked up his goblet and gave a salute. “To us all, wherever we may be.” He took a sip, then frowned. “We may be turning over stones best left unturned. The late duke was a reprobate. I attended his death scene.”
“What? How?”
“It was before I transferred to the precinct I’m at now. At the time, I didn’t know my connection to him. It was a suspicious death, seeing he had a rope around his neck and was tied to the bedpost. There was a woman with him. They were playing some erotic asphyxiation game when he had a heart attack.”
Drew sat back in his chair, clearly shocked. “My God.”
“What other horrible things are left to discover?” Mitchell questioned. “What if some of these offspring inherited his loathsome personality and immoral tendencies?” Mitchell could only hope they were not making a mistake digging up secrets best left buried.