Chapter 14
“Worry not, Betsy, he is quite contented now,” Elara whispered assuredly to the nanny, shutting the door to the nursery quietly.
Elara took in the older woman’s look of angst and offered a compassionate smile. The nanny was probably in her fifties, with graying hair kept under a white bonnet and soft, pale blue eyes. Her round, rosy cheeks dimpled as she returned Elara’s smile.
“Should I go in, Your Grace?” she asked anxiously, fiddling with her fingers before her plump, short frame.
Like all of the other female servants that were a part of Constantine’s household, she wore a modest dove gray dress and white apron.
Only hers was paired with a white shawl tied around her shoulders.
“Just in case he wakes up. It was his first journey today, and should he wake up, he might find it comforting to see a familiar face.”
It was indeed William’s first journey, and although he had enjoyed the hour-long carriage ride sitting comfortably on Elara’s lap, he became quite fussy once they reached the cottage Constantine had rented for the week.
This greatly worried Elara, and she was torn between going to the tracks as planned or staying with William to soothe him.
Ultimately, she decided she had no choice but to let Constantine go to the tracks alone.
It took quite a while, but Elara finally managed to calm the baby down.
“If you like,” Elara whispered back. “Just please be quiet in there. I am hoping he has exhausted himself enough to sleep through the entire night.”
Betsy nodded readily, and after a quick curtsy, she silently opened William’s door and hurried inside the darkened room.
Alone in the hall of the cottage, Elara let out an exhausted sigh.
The nanny and wet nurse were both quite experienced in their professions.
Constantine would not settle for anything less.
Even so, Elara was finding herself taking over as many of their duties as she could.
She could not help it. She had loved William instantly.
Which is a terrible idea, considering the temporary nature of this marriage.
Elara followed the sconce-lit, single hallway of the cottage, lined with bedroom doors, and went out to the communal space. The cottage was very different from Constantine’s large family estate in London, but as Elara looked around again, she found it quite cozy.
The communal space was a spacious open room, with a kitchen on the left and a sitting area on the right.
There was a large hearth on the opposite wall from where she stood, now crackling with a fire, and in front of it were several pieces of comfortable brown leather furniture and multiple end tables, each topped with an oil lamp.
The kitchen had a matching fireplace, and along the other walls, counter space and numerous cabinets stretched above it.
In the center of the room, occupying most of the space, was a large rectangular wooden table that seated eight.
On it were four candelabras, each holding two burning candles, and a large plate of biscuits that the wet nurse had purchased from the nearby bakery.
Elara was once again taking in her new surroundings when the front arched door opened, and Constantine walked through.
Immediately, Elara felt her body tighten.
A typical wife might rush to him and greet him with open arms or even a kiss.
However, their particular relationship did not hold such affection, so she let her feet stay planted as Constantine tiredly shut the door, walked to the leather sofa, and sat down with a huff.
“We should have brought more staff,” Constantine muttered, leaning his head against the high back of the sofa as he closed his eyes. “I would pay James double right now just to help me take my boots off.”
Elara let out a huff of a laugh and relaxed a little.
“We will make do,” she replied, going to the plate of biscuits. “This place is quaint but small. We would not have room for all the staff you usually require.”
She looked over the selection of biscuits for a moment and then picked up one she suspected was flavored with treacle.
“I would not have to worry about room if you had stayed behind in London as I originally planned,” Constantine replied dryly.
Elara rolled her eyes as she held the biscuit between her teeth, picked up the plate, and carried it over to the small, knee-high table in the center of the room.
They did not usually do nice things for each other, but Elara figured that if the tired sound of his voice was any clue, their first day of espionage had not gone well.
Constantine looked at her curiously as she set down the plate, then bit off a bit of biscuit as one hand came to hold it, and the other rested on her hip.
“Well, we are with you, and that is not going to change,” she stated matter-of-factly after swallowing her first bite. She had been right. It had indeed been treacle. And cinnamon. Her favorite sort of biscuits.
“So there is no use in whining. You will have to accept that for the next week, you will have to remove your own boots,” she added, then took another bite of her biscuit.
Constantine’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, glaring at her.
“I do not whine,” he stated, his tone cutting.
Elara nearly choked on her biscuit as she scoffed.
“As you say, Your Grace,” she answered tauntingly, then sat in the high-backed armchair to his left as he began the work of removing his boots.
“What have you discovered today?” she asked before he could hurl another barb or excuse at her. “I take it from your fouled mood that it did not go well.”
Constantine let out a weary sigh as he accomplished the undoing of his first boot.
“Aside from the fact that my brother was infamous for heavy drinking and having pretty company? Nothing,” he replied, pulling the boot off and setting it aside.
Elara felt her heart sink a little at the news. “And my brother?”
Constantine finished removing his second boot and leaned back into the sofa.
“What of your brother?” he asked.
Elara tsked her tongue as she shot him an agitated look.
“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “What did you learn of him?”
“Nothing,” Constantine replied with a shrug. “I did not ask.”
Anger shot through her veins, forcing her to her feet.
“What do you mean you did not ask?” she countered, leaning toward him with her hands on her hips.
“Our plan was to ascertain whether Augustus was here or not so that we may inquire upon him for the details of your brother,” Constantine retorted, his tone biting as he stared at her with a look of annoyance that matched her own.
“Do not forget, Elara, that your brother has made many enemies before he either died or disappeared. Asking around about him will most probably shut doors and encourage others not to speak with me.”
Elara wanted to contradict him so badly that her hands shook. Yet as she tried to reach for an argument, she found none. Whether she liked it or not, Constantine was correct. Their best bet was finding Augustus.
“I have finally settled William,” she said. “If all goes well, he should be in much better spirits tomorrow, and I can come with you to the track.”
“Is accompanying me really necessa—”
Constantine cut off into a growl of annoyance as Elara shoved a biscuit into his mouth. Not hard, though she thought about smashing it into his face after the annoyance he had caused her, but just enough that he was forced to take the bite and stop whatever it was he was about to say.
“I am going with you to the track tomorrow. Best to just resign yourself to the fact.”
Constantine glared at her as he grabbed the biscuit from his mouth and chewed on the bit that was forced there. Then his green eyes lit up as he looked at the treat in his hand.
“These are not bad. Not as good as my cook’s, but not bad.”
Elara rolled her eyes.
“Do you complain about everything?”
Constantine swallowed his bite with narrowed eyes.
“I do not...” he started to say. Then, as if struck with self-realization, he sighed before taking another bite of the biscuit. “I suppose I have been doing that quite a bit as of late, have I not?” he asked a moment later.
Elara smirked and nodded her head.
“Then I apologize,” he huffed, then took the last bite of biscuit. With his mouth still full, he added, “I have not been myself as of late.”
“I shall forgive you,” she replied, albeit a little begrudgingly. “For now.”
Constantine smirked.
“So you say you finally got William settled?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, but only a little while ago, so please continue to keep your voice down,” she replied.
Constantine nodded. Then a moment later something shifted in his eyes.
“I remember when Augustus was that small,” he mused. “He was quite fussy then, too. Like father, like son, I suppose.”
“From all of the complaining you have done this evening, I suspect you were a fussy child as well,” Elara could not help but retort.
Constantine’s gaze flicked to her. She saw the tiredness in his eyes, the tightness around them from the stress, and she held up her hands; a silent symbol of surrender and apology.
“Actually, I was quite the solemn child,” Constantine confessed, surprising Elara.
“I do not believe I was ever given the opportunity to be fussy or discontented. My parents and nannies were constant with their reminders that I had to be the head of the family and the title, whether I liked it or not.”
Elara’s heart softened as she heard the emotionless, matter-of-fact way Constantine described his childhood.
“That sounds so very lonely and miserable,” she confessed.
Constantine’s lips twitched.
“It is a childhood all first-born sons are familiar with, I am sure,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I have no doubt that Evander was raised in the same fashion.”
Elara was quick to shake her head.
“No. Well, by my father, perhaps. I do not rightly know, and I myself do not remember much about him,” she confessed. “But my mother? She showed us all affection. Great affection all of our lives until...”
She stopped, a pain twinging in her heart as she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat and looked to the floor.
“Until Evander’s death announcement,” she whispered. “She did not take his absence well. Her mental state suffered. She is better now, but still, every so often I can see her slip back into that dark place.”
For a moment, there was no sound but the soft crackling of the fire behind them, and Elara began to feel self-conscious and embarrassed for sharing such an intimate fact of her family.
“I believe that your mother was the only person I ever met that showed me true kindness,” Constantine said, his deep but quiet tone breaking the silence.
Elara looked at him, startled.
“My mother?” she asked, and Constantine nodded; a soft smile lifting the corners of his usually straight lips.
“She coddled us all. Evander and Adrian’s friends, I mean,” Constantine confessed.
“However, she always made me believe that she had made me her favorite of their friends. It was strange. It was as if she somehow knew, by looking at me, that I was not shown such endearment at home. I could understand why she suffered so much after Evander’s death.
As much as she showed us all affection, it was clear that her sons received the most.”
Constantine’s lips twitched as a sparkle of mischief erupted in his green eyes.
“And her daughter, of course,” he added.
Elara marveled at the new information. “I had no idea,” she murmured.
Constantine let out a soft, humorless laugh.
“I told you, Adrian, Evander, and I were friends at one time,” he said, his tone goading.
“Not best friends,” he clarified with a pointed look.
“That placement was always Damien’s. However, we were friends.
Until adulthood took over us, and we went our separate ways.
Until Augustus came to me one day, telling me of the ruin Evander was about to bring down upon him.
Then I wondered if we were ever truly friends at all. ”
Elara’s mind exploded with questions and theories, creating a spiderweb of thoughts that left her silent and musing.
“It is late,” Constantine sighed, pushing up from his seat. “And as much as I surprisingly enjoyed this conversation about past memories, I am going to retire for the evening.”
Elara’s gaze shifted up to him as he turned to her with a resigned expression.
“If you are going to accompany me, you must be ready by twenty-past ten at the most. The first race starts at eleven. It is only a brisk few-minute walk from here, but from what I saw today, the seating area fills up early. We need a good spot to be able to keep our eyes out for my brother.”
“I will be ready,” Elara promised, rising from her own seat.
Constantine’s brow perked as a smirk twitched on his lips.
“Are you certain?” he asked, his tone goading. “As I have no valet, you have no lady’s maid. Do you even know how to get yourself ready?”
Elara tsked her tongue and gave him a glowering stare as she crossed her arms.
“I am not as helpless as you, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice oozing with sarcasm.
To her surprise, Constantine chuckled, and in turn, she found herself smiling. Genuinely smiling at him.
“We shall see,” Constantine mused, turning to go down the hall of bedrooms.
Elara followed, stopping as she reached her door and put her hand to the handle. She was just about to turn it and go inside when Constantine spoke.
“I hope you are prepared, Elara,” he stated, his deep tone barely above a whisper so as not to wake William.
Elara looked up and found him standing in front of his bedroom four doors down, a look of genuine concern on his handsome face.
“For what?” she whispered, her brow furrowing.
“For the truth,” Constantine replied. “If we do find any information about your brother, it...” he paused, let out a sigh. As if he did not like what he was about to say. “It may not be what you presumed.”
Elara drew in a breath, trying to steady herself at the very real possibility that he could be right.
“Whatever happened to him,” she whispered back, pushing away the fear rising within her. “Whatever he might have done. He is still my brother. The truth is exactly what I want.”
She and Constantine locked eyes for a long moment; a strange tremble took over her stomach as they gazed deeply into one another’s eyes. Then, as his jaw flexed, Constantine nodded. Without another word, he opened his door and went inside.