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“I fear for you,” Lily said. “If they had anything to do with Papa’s death…”
“It doesn’t seem possible…” Thomas said, more to himself than to Lily. “But Papa was in such robust health, and he seemed to be ill every time after he had taken a meal with the viscount.”
“The person to talk to might be the viscountess,” Lily said. “Or perhaps his butler or valet.”
“He’s too smart to involve any of them. Unless he has something on them.”
“He may. We just don’t know, Thomas.” Lily gazed out the window of the study. “What would you like me to do?”
“Keep those ears of yours open, Lily. Listen.” Thomas stood up, approached his sister. “Cozy up to the viscountess. Perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe she does know something.”
“Oh, she’s a dreadful bore, but I will do it for you, Thomas.”
“Thank you, dear sister.” Thomas grabbed the leather-bound journal and placed it under the cushion of a wingback chair near the study’s door. “Best to keep this hidden. I don’t want the viscount to think he can get away with destroying evidence.”
Lily nodded. “Good thinking. But even more important than that journal is you.” She opened her arms and took him into an embrace, whispering in his ear, “You need to keep yourself safe.”
Thomas broke the embrace and placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “Don’t fear for me. I’m more than capable of keeping myself safe.”
Lily looked at him seriously. “So was Papa, Thomas. So was Papa.”
The next morning, Thomas invited the viscount, Polk, and Jonathan for a game of Pall Mall. Thomas enjoyed the game, and he was exceedingly good at it. However, he had every intention of letting the viscount win, which he did.
After the game, he invited the gentlemen to the stables to admire his new prize stallion.
“He is wonderful, Ashford,” the viscount said.
“He is indeed,” Jonathan agreed.
Polk said nothing, only looked at Thomas and shrugged. “I say, Ashford, what is it that you want with us?”
Thomas was taken aback. “Do I need to have a reason to want to spend the morning with my neighbors and my good cousin?”
“Of course not.” Polk’s cheeks reddened. “It’s just that…I have my eye on a young lady, and I was hoping to convince her to take a stroll with me.”
“I see,” Thomas said. “And might I ask which one?”
“If you must know, it’s Lady Patricia Price-Adams, your sister-in-law.”
A dagger of jealousy speared through Thomas.
“I believe you may have to fight me for her, Polk,” Jonathan said. “She is a luscious little thing.”
Thomas drew in a breath, nearly choking, to combat the anger that was sprouting across his neck.
“You young bucks…” The viscount chuckled, gazing off into the distance. “I am envious. Those were the days.”
It was no secret that the viscount and his wife, Victor’s mother, had not been a love match. The viscount kept several mistresses, at least he had in the past. Last Thomas had heard, the old man could no longer function below the belt.
Which might be why…
No. The viscount was a good man. At least he had been. But perhaps losing function of his manhood made him vulnerable to…
He looked at his friend, Victor Polk, who had the respect of Thomas’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Lybrook. Lybrook was a good man and a decent judge of character.
Then Thomas regarded his cousin, Jonathan Jameson, whom he hadn’t seen since they were young lads of twelve years.
Jonathan was a man Thomas truly no longer knew.
