Chapter Two #3
“Think nothing of it, Papa. But you are correct. I should have asked. However, I didn’t think it my place, friendship notwithstanding.
Mary didn’t fully believe him, but now was not the time to question the young man.
There was something he wasn’t admitting to, and she would let him keep that to himself, for in Anthony was a client of Henry’s, what they’d said between them was private.
She leaned forward and briefly touched his arm.
“What made you flee tonight to our house?”
“Oh, I should have told you that at the beginning.” After digging into a pocket of his greatcoat, Henry pulled a scrap of paper out and handed it to his father.
“This was tied to a brick, which was thrown through a drawing room window. The person who hurled it must have had good aim and a strong arm to reach the second-floor glass.”
Mary left her chair to perch on the arm of the sofa near her husband as he smoothed out the paper. “Good heavens.”
If you start telling tales about the Duke of Boddingford, you’ll find yourself floating down the Thames, Henry Bright.
“Indeed,” Bright murmured as some of the color faded from his face. No doubt he was gripped by worry for his son. Then his expression hardened. “Do you have any idea who could have wished to threaten you?”
“None.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t have flashy clients or even ones who are troubled, and I certainly don’t keep that sort of company.”
“Except with Anthony, the son-in-law of a duke who knew there are secrets out there,” Mary said in a low voice. “That must mean what he told you was true.”
“But he didn’t tell me anything of value,” Henry said as he vaulted to his feet from the sofa. “This is maddening.”
“Perhaps, yet someone knew that you’d met with Anthony, and that same someone must have assumed he told you those secrets.” Bright shook his head as he rose into a standing position as well. He tucked the note into the waist of his evening breeches.
Henry shrugged. “I know nothing.” Yet his eyelids flickered.
At that point, Mary knew for certain he was withholding something.
The question remained as to why. “We needn’t discuss this further tonight,” she told her husband before addressing Henry.
“Why don’t you settle into the guest room?
In the morning, we shall talk about things with fresh minds over breakfast; we can do nothing about it now.
” She softened the words with a smile. “I know the children will be pleased to find you here tomorrow when they wake.” Henry was a favorite with them both, but Cassandra especially had bonded with him.
“That is the logical course of action,” Bright agreed with a nod.
Slowly, Henry also nodded. “If you insist, but we should do something about the broken glass on the door. We can’t keep letting the wind and rain come into the room.”
“I’ll see if there is a board around that size in the kitchens. We can nail it into place, and hopefully I can have a workman in tomorrow to refit the two glass panels that were broken.”
A frown tugged at the corners of Mary’s mouth. “Will that be secure enough?”
“Only time will tell, but I rather doubt I’ll sleep soundly until morning.” The grin he shot her was rather grim. “If it will make you feel better, Henry and I can move one of the winged-backed chairs in front of the door as well.”
“I would like that, yes.” She rose to her feet.
“This is most disconcerting. And make certain you pull the door to the corridor closed after you are finished here. I don’t want the children asking questions or giving them undo worry.
The less they see wrong right now, the greater their worlds will remain untouched.
” Of course her first instinct was to protect the children.
As well as Henry, for she considered him one of hers as well.
“We will do what we can to keep everything as usual for them,” Bright said as he closed the distance between them and slipped his arms around her. “We will meet whatever challenges lay ahead, and not only will we do that together, we will do it as a family.”
“I appreciate that.” For a few seconds, she reveled in his strength, but then she planted a palm against his chest and pulled away. Peering up into his face, she said, “It would seem you have a new case to add to your schedule.”
“Or rather we have a new case, sweeting.” After kissing her forehead, Bright released her and addressed his son. “Come, Henry, we are off to the kitchens to search for a board.” He swung his gaze to her. “I shall join you upstairs after everything is tidied here.”
“All right. Stay vigilant.” As she quit the room, Mary’s chest tightened as worry circled through her belly.
The anxiety wasn’t merely for the hole in the door’s window glass or the fact that Henry had been threatened.
It almost felt as if they were all on the edge of a precipice and that everything would change yet again, and soon.
But when had life ever remained stagnant, especially since Bright had come into her life?