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But Chase was unaffected by Christian’s temper. “He’s staying here with you. He’d sort it out on his own.”
Gabe looked from Chase to Christian. Something was definitely going on, but he wasn’t certain he even wanted to know what that something was. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
Christian’s glare on Chase darkened perceptibly as he said, “I’ve taken to keeping an eye on Covent Garden at night.”
“The Covent Guard, they’re calling him,” Chase added. “Donning a domino, wielding daggers and chasing after cutpurses and—”
“I beg your pardon?” Gabe breathed out. He wasn’t certain what secret he thought his friends were keeping, but he never would have come up withthis.
“With the way crime is in the district, someone has to do something,” Christian grumbled, not sounding at all like himself. “And the watch is beyond impotent.”
“So throw some of that Weybourne money into a private force if you’re of a mind,” Chase said.
“We’ve been down this road a number of times. I’ll not have this discussion with you again,” Christian replied. “And I’ll thank you not to mention it to anyone else.”
“And see you hanged?” Chase shook his head. “Because that’s what they’ll do if they find out what you’ve been up to, Christian. If you get caught—”
“By the inept watch who are supposed to be keeping an eye the area? Not bloody likely.”
“Perhaps not, but it could still happen.”
Christian pushed out of his chair, his glare focused on Chase was as dark a one as Gabe had ever seen. “As I said, I’m not in the mood for this discussion again, Winslett.”
“And I’m not in the mood to attend your funeral in the near future, Hawke.”
Without another word, Christian stalked from the breakfast room, leaving Gabe and Chase with just each other.
“So glad you’re in Town. Wish it was under better circumstances. ” Chase pulled Christian’s half-eaten breakfast plate toward him and plucked a piece of sausage from it, completely unaffected by that little exchange.
“You’re going to eat his breakfast?” Gabe asked as Chase bit into the sausage.
“He’s done with it. Hate for it to go to waste.”
Some things never changed. Chase had always been able to down more food at any given meal than some small nations did in a day, and yet he still remained as fit and trim as any fellow in Wellington’s army even if he hadn’t ever served.
“My grandfather sits on the board at a private asylum in Derbyshire.”
“Chatham?” Gabe asked disbelievingly, as doing anything that could be considered even slightly altruistic did not seem to fit with what he knew of the duke.
“Oh, God, no,” Chase said around another bite of sausage. “My mother’s father. Viscount Blackwell.”
That did make more sense, not that Gabe remembered Chase ever saying much about his maternal grandfather until now.
“Anyway, I know of the place – Oakcliffe, nice surroundings in the Peak District. With my grandfather involved, I know there’s been much thought put into the humane treatment of the patients. If you want me to call in a favor on Northwold’s behalf, I’m happy to do so.”
And for the first time that day, Gabe felt a sense of relief. “I would appreciate it, Chase. I’m not sure where else to even start. The earldom is in such a state that someone has to see to it and to Clayton’s care. Returning to the 9th is an impossibility.”
His friend agreed with the nod of his head. “So you’re staying?”
“I don’t think I have any other choice.”
“Well, as I said, I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I am glad to see you and that you’re whole and hale.”
“Yes, I’m glad to see you’re well.”
“Well? I’m perfect!” Chase grinned. “Oh! We really should…” And then his face fell.
“What’s wrong?”
