CHAPTER 1
The offices of Hall & Hill
Temple, London – late April 1816
M ajor Gabriel Prideaux blinked at the solicitor behind his desk, not quite believing anything the man had just said, or perhaps simply not wanting to. But it did not seem that Mr. Hill, who had appeared rather uncomfortable during the entire interview, was joking in the least. The man seemed too skittish for something like that. Besides, what sort of fellow would joke about the situation at hand? One who would need to be locked up himself inside… “Rosewood Lunatic Asylum, you say?” he repeated the man’s words, making certain he’d heard him correctly.
“For the last ten months.” Mr. Hill nodded quickly and for longer than was necessary. “His lordship selected the place himself. Cost and care being the deciding factors in his decision.”
Gabe thought he was going to be ill. A lunatic asylum. How the devil had this happened to his brother? “And you’ve just now sent for me? Why the devil wasn’t I informed about any of this before now?”
The solicitor shuffled through a number of papers on his desk, but Gabe doubted any of them held the answer to the question he’d just asked. Hill was quite aware of why he hadn’t summoned Gabe home from Canada, he was simply stalling in his response, which was more than frustrating.
“Mr. Hill, I would like an answer to my question. If Lord Northwold has admitted himself into this Rosewood Lunatic Asylum, as his brother and heir, I would like to know why you delayed in notifiying me.”
The man glanced up from his desk, a frown marring his gaunt face. “I shouldn’t have even sent for you now, Major. Lord Northwold left explicit instructions that you not be informed of his illness until after his death.” He heaved a staggering breath. “He said he didn’t want you to suffer right along with him.”
So Clayton had meant to suffer alone? That did sound like his brother. A martyr to the last. “But you defied him anyway?” Gabe snapped, not in that he disagreed with the man’s decision, but more in anger at the situation; and Hill was the only one present to bear the brunt of that anger.
“I’m concerned for his safety, Major. As his next of kin, only you can make the decision to move him to a different hospital.”
“His safety?” Gabe echoed. For God’s sake, was anyone safe inside a lunatic asylum? Just the thought of stepping foot inside Bedlam or any other such place sent a chill racing down his spine.
Mr. Hill nodded vigorously once again. “The madness has taken him, Major. He mutters to himself mostly, but he has been known to scream for his treasure and—”
“Treasure?” Neither Clayton nor the Northwold earldom was in the possession of a treasure. At least it hadn’t been before Gabe had joined the 9th all those years ago. His father had nearly bankrupted the title, spending all there was on gaming tables, whores and anything else he’d found slightly amusing. “My brother is in the possession of a treasure?” He couldn’t imagine how that could even possibly be true.
“I should say not.” The solicitor shook his head most determinedly. “I had thought his lordship meant to restore the earldom from its…” He winced instead of continuing.
“My father was hardly a good steward, Hill. You needn’t try to shield me from that fact.”
Mr. Hill swallowed. “Yes, well, when your brother assumed the title, he appeared to make a genuine effort to turn the ship around, so to speak. But then…”
Damn it all! Could the man not finish one blasted sentence? “Do speak freely, Mr. Hill.” After all, how was Gabe to understand any of it, if the man wouldn’t do so?
“Well, he seemed to have a change of heart in all of that. His illness went undiagnosed for quite a time and it may have already begun to affect his mind.” He blew out a breath. “Bills began pouring in. Bills he could not, forgive me for saying so, but bills he could not have had a prayer of ever paying. Expenditures in Canada, and New York, and—”
“My brother traveled to Canada?” Gabe’d had no idea. Why wouldn’t Clayton have said something to him? Stationed with his regiment on Canada’s eastern coast for sometime, Gabe would have taken leave to see his brother had he known they were on the same continent. Or had Clayton traveled to Canada before the 9th was reassigned there? While he and his brother had not been particularly close, what with a decade in age distancing them, if they’d both been in Canada at the same time…
“No, no.” The solicitor shook his head. “His lordship did not leave England. But that didn’t stop him from footing the bill of someone else’s travel, though who I do not know. He wouldn’t say when I asked him. But then bills for gowns and other female fripperies began pouring in as well. Lord Northwold went to stay in Cumberland for a while and did not return for some time.”
“Gowns and female fripperies?” Gabe supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Clayton had always had a taste actresses. He must have stumbled upon one who cost a pretty penny. Even still… “How much could he possibly have spent on such things?”
“More than you might imagine.” Mr. Hill grimaced. “I’m afraid to say his lordship is quite a bit like your father in that regard. And Lord Northwold did have a certain reputation.”
“Yes, both of them,” Gabe agreed. Indeed, Clayton was a philanderer, much like their father had been, but at least his brother had no wives. Well, none that Gabe was aware of anyway. Still, a pretty face and a nice form had done more to bring down the Northwold earldom than anyone or anything else. No, no, that was unfair to the fairer sex. His father and his brother were men who made their own choices in life. Their weakness for women was not the women’s fault. However, that weakness was most definitely to blame for Clayton’s syphilitic state and his current residence in a lunatic asylum. An asylum that Hill apparently thought was unstable, as though any asylum could be considered anything else. “What are your concerns with Rosewood, Mr. Hill?”
“I think, sir, perhaps you should see the place for yourself.”
“I’m certain I should,” Gabe agreed. “But I would like to hear your concerns just as well.”
The solicitor heaved a sigh. “Like I said, Major, he has begun screaming about a treasure.”
“One he does not have.”
“Indeed, but the staff and other patients there are not aware of that fact. I’m afraid someone may hurt him in trying to gather information on something that does not exist. In this day and age, I daresay people have been harmed for less.”
That was most certainly true. Gabe agreed with the nod of his head. “Do give me their direction, Hill. I will see to my brother straight away.”
By the time Gabe arrived at Weybourne House, he was numb and more than a little shaken after experiencing Rosewood in person and after seeing the condition of his brother. Even so, he offered a slight smile to the butler, as it was expected, and said, “Is Lord Kelling in, Poole?”
The aged servant nodded as he closed the door behind Gabe. “He is in the breakfast room, Major.”
The breakfast room? It was quite late in the afternoon already. Of course as Christian was heir to the Weybourne dukedom, Gabe supposed he could live a life of leisure these days if he was of a mind. “I remember the way,” he replied. “Thank you.”
He made his way down the corridor and through the ducal home, stopping in the doorway of the breakfast room. Sure enough, his old friend Christian Hawke, Lord Kelling, was reading that morning’s newspaper and shoveling in a spoonful of baked eggs.
“You know,” Gabe began, drawing his friend’s attention to him, “most people have already enjoyed their luncheon by now?”
And then a hand clapped Gabe on the back, startling him. He glanced quickly over his shoulder to find Chase Winslett standing there, grinning from ear to ear. “Most people don’t keep Christian’s hours.”
A genuine smile graced Gabe’s lips at the sight of the man. Once upon a time Christian, Chase and Gabe had been the best of friends from Eton and beyond. But it had been entirely too long and with wars on two continents since the three of them had been in the same room together. “Winslett, what are you doing here?”
Chase shrugged. “Christian sent a note that you were staying here with him. A little wounded you didn’t tell me yourself.”
“I just arrived last night,” Gabe replied.
“Don’t be a mother hen, Chase,” Christian complained after he swallowed down a bite of eggs. Then he pointed his spoon toward Gabe. “What did the esteemed Hill of Hall and Hill have to say, Gabe?”
“Hill of Hall and Hill?” Chase echoed, brushing past Gabe to drop into a seat across from Christian.
“Northwold’s solicitor,” Christian answered. “He’s the reason our friend here has returned to our shores.”
Chase glanced back over his shoulder at Gabe. “Well, that’s sounds perfectly mysterious.”
Gabe heaved a sigh as he strode over the threshold and claimed a chair beside Chase. “My brother is unwell.” And honestly, that was a vast understatement. “Actually, Clayton’s dying.”
“Oh, Gabe!” Chase blew out a breath.
“I am so sorry to hear it,” Christian added, his brow furrowing. “Losing one’s entire family is a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
It was a fate Christian had recently suffered himself, though he hadn’t shared any of the details; and Gabe hadn’t prodded. Selfishly, however, Gabe was focused on the current state of his own brother’s unfortunate situation instead of Christian’s late family. An awful image of Clayton flashed in Gabe’s mind. “He’s suffering the advanced stages of syphilis.” He raked a hand through his hair and winced at the memory of his brother in that room. The lesions, the mad laughter. Clayton hadn’t even recognized him, not even when Gabe told him he was his brother. “He is well and truly mad. And that place…” Gabe shook his head.
“Bedlam?” Chase asked, all levity gone from his voice.
“No, no.” Gabe shook his head once more. “Clayton apparently selected Rosewood Lunatic Asylum himself. Better than Bedlam, but I’m not sure by how much. Just stepping inside was like a visit to the outer corridors of hell.”
Both of his friends winced at hearing that.
“But he cannot stay there. I need to find somewhere else for him to go.”
“The conditions are that bad?” Christian asked.
The place was actually much cleaner than Gabe had expected, though the screams that emanated from the place were made of nightmares, and some of the caretakers had a mad look to their own eyes. “Hill is concerned about Clayton’s safety. Apparently he’s been screaming about a treasure, and that has captured undue interest from some of the people at Rosewood.”
“Since when did your brother stumble upon a treasure?” Chase asked.
“Somewhere in the dark recesses of his madness,” Gabe replied. “But someone else might think there is an actual treasure to be had, and shouting about it as Clayton apparently does, is putting himself in danger.”
“Those hospitals—” Christian sneered the word “—are a travesty. No one should suffer inside their walls.”
“Where are the people inside to go?” Chase asked. “Roaming the streets freely? Putting the public in a constant state of danger? I daresay that would make your nighttime activities never-ending.”
Christian glared at their friend in response.
“What?” Chase continued. “You weren’t planning on telling him?”
“I wasn’t planning on telling you,” Christian snapped.
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 with this.
“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?”
His friend shook his head. “I was going to suggest that we make a grand time of it in Town tonight, but I’ve got some awful family dinner I have to attend.”
“A family dinner?” Gabe asked, trying to keep from asking whether or not Sophie Hampton would be amongst the attendees. After all, Sophie was not for him. Her father had made that more than clear.
“Apparently, my Uncle Aylesford is going to announce my cousin’s betrothal this evening, at least that’s what Mother’s footman said when he summoned me to see her this afternoon.”
Aylesford, not Beckbury. That shouldn’t have brought Gabe any comfort, but it did. So Sophie’s betrothal wasn’t being announced that evening, but she could already be married to some other fellow for all that Gabe knew. And not that it did him one bit of good either way. He needed to keep his mind focused on Clayton. Pining after the only girl he’d ever loved was a complete waste of time, especially as she could never be his.
“—afterward, if that’s all right with you?”
Gabe blinked at his friend. He’d obviously missed something. “I beg your pardon?” Just the thought of Sophie could distract him like nothing else. He really, truly needed to put her completely from his mind.
“I said,” Chase continued as he scooped up a spoonful of eggs, “that after I finish with that family obligation, we should play a bit of hazard.”
Gabe wasn’t really the gambling sort. He’d seen where that path had left his father. Besides, he had very little to gamble with if Mr. Hill was to be believed, not that he wanted to say as much to his friend. Even still, Chase must have interpreted something from the look on his face….
“I mean, Christian will be chasing after pickpockets or flashmen all night. I hate to think of you sitting over here all alone.”
“I’ll watch you play, how about that?”
Chase grinned. “Whatever makes you happy, Gabriel.”