Chapter Twenty-six
The four of them had been talking for hours.
It had started off with what Tobias could do, how he could romance or challenge Grace into accepting his proposal, but they had long since gone off on various tangents.
Now, for a reason that had escaped Tobias, probably because he was at the bottom of his third glass of brandy, they were talking about frogs.
‘You should have heard him scream,’ said Edward, laughing so hard he slid off the sideboard he’d propped himself up on.
‘It was your fault for spending the night before, telling me ghost stories. I was already scared out of my wits.’ Christopher, ever the genial brother, had taken no offence to Edward’s retelling of a childhood story involving a frog, a blanket and a ruined picnic in which Christopher had come off the worst. Tobias did not remember the event.
It had to have happened after he had packed off their guardian, Miss Dunn, to one of his estates in the north of the country.
She would not have allowed anything as whimsical as a picnic to have taken place under her rule.
It would have meant that Tobias had already started his daily routine of wading through reports.
He could not find it in himself to regret it.
Working hard when his contemporaries had been acting as young men were wont to do, mostly making cakes of themselves but having a damned fine time, Tobias had become the head of a wealthy and old dynasty.
At times it had seemed an impossible burden to hold by himself and when Sebastian had left, there had been days when he had thought he would never laugh again.
But it had been worth it if Edward and Christopher had achieved some semblance of a normal childhood, albeit one in which Christopher had been tortured by frogs turning up where they should not be.
Edward was still bent at the waist, tears in his eyes from laughter, when a knock sounded at the study door.
A quick glance at the clock showed Tobias that it was past midnight. No one should be at his door at this time.
‘Enter,’ he called.
Norton, his butler, opened the door, dressed smartly, not a hair out of place.
He looked as if it were the middle of the day and not well past the time when the man should have been abed.
‘A letter has arrived for you, Your Grace. From London.’ Letters came for Tobias every day, so it wasn’t until Norton spoke again that he realised the significance.
‘It appears to have originated in America, Your Grace.’
Something inside Tobias shifted at the man’s words, but he was practised in not showing his feelings. ‘I thank you for bringing it to my attention, Norton. You may retire for the night now. We have everything we need.’
‘Very well, Your Grace.’ The butler bowed his way out of the room and Tobias knew he would not go to his private quarters until he and his brothers were also abed, no matter what Tobias had said.
Opening the letter, he scanned its contents.
‘What does it say?’ asked Edward. ‘Is it from Mr Hornel?’
Tobias normally let Edward take the lead in everything to do with Mr Hornel’s investigation, feeling that, as Edward had organised the man’s journey to America, he was somehow in charge.
Besides, letting Edward take control meant Tobias didn’t have to speak, which had previously been a good thing.
Something had shifted recently and Tobias wanted to be the person who spoke.
No, it had not been something shifting. It was all to do with someone.
It wasn’t just Charlotte’s safety at stake, it was Grace’s too.
‘It is, yes,’ he said, reading over the contents again.
‘What does it say?’ asked Edward again, his voice strained, all hint of amusement gone.
Tobias read the short missive out loud.
‘“As suggested in a previous letter, the couple I mentioned who have been living in Lord Sebastian’s home are his in-laws. A Mr and Mrs Ashby. I have reason to believe that these two people caused the death of Lord Sebastian and his wife. I will outline my reasoning in person. I am returning to London posthaste, and writing this in the event that it arrives before I do to warn you that the Ashbys are on their way to England. I do not know of their intentions, but I fear they will not be good. I trust you are continuing to take good care of my sister.”‘
Tobias didn’t bother with the sign-off.
‘At least we can be sure it was the Ashbys who attempted to gain admittance into Glanmore House,’ said Freddie.
‘Yes, more than one group trying to attack us would be alarming,’ agreed Christopher.
Edward was white, his fingers gripping his glass tightly.
Tobias rubbed his forehead, wishing he had not drunk so much brandy.
Thinking was much harder through the wall of alcohol.
Freddie and Christopher continued to talk between themselves, as if their words could somehow rouse their two quieter brothers.
‘I am going to tell Kate her brother is on his way,’ said Edward, leaving the room without a backward glance.
‘I hope this does not set him back,’ said Christopher, looking at the closed door. ‘He always gets very anxious around change, but really nothing is different from this morning. We have known for a while that the Ashbys are in the country.’
Tobias refolded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope.
‘It has been easy to forget about Grace’s parents and the threat they pose in the summer idyll we have been living in.
’ He tapped the report he had been reading before his brothers had entered the study.
‘Not one of my agents has seen them, but perhaps it is time to increase the search. We will think more on it tomorrow. Now we should all get some rest.’
The contents of the letter should have added to Tobias’ sense of gloom, but they were only two people.
It was the Ashbys who should feel worried.
They were in an unfamiliar country up against him and his brothers.
They should feel fear, not him. He would destroy them long before they got to Charlotte or Grace.