by Platt, Meara
Penelope took her hand. “Stop fretting. It will be a beautiful evening Olivia will not soon forget.” She called to her friend who was about to leave her bedchamber. “Olivia, you must pretend to be surprised, or our guests will be disappointed.”
“I’ll practice my expressions in the mirror. You may remark on my extraordinary acting performance after the party.” She bid her friends farewell and hurried downstairs to find Beast.
Poppy and Violet retired to their quarters as well.
Penelope was left alone with her thoughts.
Of course, they drifted to Thad.
She missed him.
Was he thinking of her at all?
Chapter Seven
Thad was given a two o’clock appointment with Lord Castlereagh the following day. He made his way through the crowded streets of London, past the houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, allowing Thor to move at an easy lope along the Thames embankment toward the ministry offices.
Would the two earls be there?
He was comfortable enough with his granduncle, the Earl of Caithness. But what did one say to a grandfather one had never met? Good day, Grandfather. I’m sorry I killed your only daughter.
He knew so little about his mother. Her name was Galen Hume. Lady Galen. She had copper-red hair and emerald eyes, or so old Fiona had told him one afternoon before he’d gone off to university. He’d been sitting in the kitchen, watching the toothless harridan burn their evening meal. “She met yer father at a grand ball in Edinburgh,” she’d whispered, glancing around to make certain they weren’t overheard. “It was love at first sight for the both of ’em. Neither Laird Caithness nor Laird Hume were happy about it. Yer father was forbidden to court her. Yer mother was forbidden ever to speak to him. But they defied their families, both of them thickheaded and determined. No one was going to tell them what to do.”
They’d eloped, Fiona had told him.
Thad shook back to the present as he reached the ministry building. A soldier met him at the entry gate. He dismounted and handed him Thor’s reins. “I’ll stable your horse, Captain MacLauren. Lord Castlereagh is expecting you.”
Another soldier showed him to Lord Castlereagh’s office. “Have a seat, Captain MacLauren. His lordship will be in shortly.” He motioned to a chair in front of a massive, paper-covered desk, and then left Thad alone to await him. Well, Thad wasn’t quite alone. Two soldiers stood at attention beside the door through which he’d just entered.
He was impressed.
Their uniforms gave them away as the king’s personal guards. Castlereagh was important indeed to merit this protection. Since he knew these guardsmen would not be permitted to speak to him, he strolled to the window and passed the time watching the skiffs and schooners sail down the Thames.
The Thames waters were a muddy blue. The London sky was gray. The street below was crowded and a faintly foul odor from the Thames floated upward to reach his nostrils.
What was he doing here?
He wanted to take his fallen kinsmen home and see them properly buried in the unspoiled Scottish earth where their souls would rest amid the green hills and rough-hewn crags, and the golden sun would be beat down upon their sacred graves.
“Ah, Captain MacLauren, you’re here. Sorry to keep you waiting.” A portly, older fellow bustled in and hurried over to shake his hand. “Do have a seat, lad. We have much to discuss.”
Thad settled in the wooden chair in front of Castlereagh’s desk, eager to hear what the man required of him.
“As you may have heard, your grandfather requested that I bring you home immediately after the Waterloo campaign. I expect he’s told you the reason, so I won’t elaborate.”
He began to shuffle the papers littering his desk. Thad noticed the wood was of finest mahogany, but the elegance and obvious expense appeared lost on Castlereagh who was known for his tireless efforts to secure a lasting peace rather than for his political ambition or witty social repartee.
“My grandfather?”
Castlereagh paused in shuffling his papers to regard Thad curiously. “Yes, the Earl of Hume.”
Thad emitted a bark of laughter. “Forgive me, my lord. But ye must be mistaken. Not only have I never spoken to the earl, I’ve never even met him. So, I’d appreciate being told why he would care if I lived or died.”
Castlereagh appeared surprised. “Did Caithness say nothing to you either?”
“If the information had to do with Clan Hume, he’d rot in his grave before he ever passed it on to me.”
“Oh, dear. I see. So am I to understand that you’ve received no information at all?”
“None, my lord. Not a word in the two months I’ve been back.”
He frowned. “Blasted, stubborn earls. This doesn’t only concern them, but will they put their pride aside to do what’s right? No. They’ll leave me to fix things…as if I don’t have enough to do. Their petty squabbles are nothing to restoring peace throughout Europe.”
He rose and came around to the front of his desk. “Thaddius, my boy…”
Thad rose as well, for he knew that look of dismissal and was not ready to leave without answers. In truth, he only wanted to know one thing. “Are my brother and Caithness cousins alive? That’s all I care about.”
Castlereagh cast him a sympathetic grimace. “I’m dealing with thousands of men and dozens of regiments from all over the kingdom. Welsh, Scottish, Irish, and English. Not to mention, negotiating with our European allies. I’ll be sending a diplomatic delegation to Austria soon, headed by me since His Majesty trusts no one else with the assignment. Names by the hundreds cross my desk every day. I honestly don’t know the fate of your kinsmen.”
He pursed his lips and motioned for Thad to follow him out. “Mr. Beardsley is my head clerk, an officious little weasel, but he’ll give you an answer. However, I would prefer that you wait until this evening.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather you heard the news-whatever it may be-from the Earl of Caithness. It isn’t right that it should come from a stranger. I’m dining with him and Hume at a private dinner this evening. Come with me as my guest.”
“I’d rather not have my family business aired at some skinny-arsed lord’s dinner party. Ye’ll forgive me if I decline. Besides, what makes ye think your host will allow ye to bring me along?”
“I’m the skinny-arsed host, although I’d hardly call myself thin.” He rubbed his ample belly and chuckled. “It’s my dinner party. At my home. The only guests are Caithness and Hume…and now you. Gad, you Scots are an impertinent lot.”
Thad ignored the comment and cast him a dubious glance. “How did that come about? The two won’t walk down the same street, and ye think to seat them together at yer table?”
“I will, and they’ll behave because I’ll have Caithness and your grandfather–”
“Don’t refer to the Earl of Hume as that to me.”
Castlereagh sighed. “You Scots are stubborn and prideful, too. Have you always been this way?” He shook his head and continued without awaiting an answer from Thad. In truth, he wasn’t seeking a response to the question. “You’ll behave or I’ll have the three of you locked away in the Tower. Don’t doubt my authority to do it. His Majesty’s own guards will place anyone who fails to appear or show me proper respect under arrest.”
Thad ran a hand through his hair in consternation. “So, I’ll be trapped with ye and those two earls? I hope the food’s decent. Verra well. Until this evening. But if I don’t receive answers tonight, I’ll start cracking heads.”
Thad returned to Beast’s townhouse in no fit humor to be good company. He was relieved to be told Lady Matilda was on one of her rare excursions out and would not return until late in the evening. “I’ll be going out shortly as well,” he informed Beast’s butler.
He started for the study, knowing his friend maintained an excellent stock of brandy and intended to grab a bottle with which to drown his frustration, only to
quickly change his mind. He would need his wits about him when he confronted the grandfather he’d never met.
He climbed the stairs to his bedchamber and rang for mild refreshments instead. Tea and cakes. That would hold him until supper.
He considered donning his clan tartan instead of his uniform for this unwelcome evening, but decided against it. To wear the plaid instead of his uniform would signify his allegiance to Caithness. He did care for the old hound, but did not like that he was being used by him to get back at Hume.
He wasn’t pleased with either earl at the moment, and refused to show allegiance to either of them until he received the information he wanted. It ought to have been provided to him months ago.
He rode Thor to Castlereagh’s home at the appointed hour. The sun was beginning to dip on the horizon, the red-gold ball casting a pink and purple hue to the sky and clouds that loomed over the London towers and spires. Those colors caught on the water, turning the Thames an odd reddish-brown.
In the Highlands, twilight came early most of the year, but it could always be counted upon to be beautiful. The cool loch waters glistened under the fading sunlight. Here, the water was too thick with mud to shine. Instead, the sun’s rays seemed to be swallowed up in the dark murk.
A thin, little man scurried toward him as he dismounted. “Captain MacLauren, thank goodness you’re finally here. Everyone is growing impatient for your arrival.”
Thad arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I was late.” The chimes on St. Paul’s were only now ringing to signal the eight o’clock hour.
The officious man pinched his lips tightly and tossed him a superior glance. Had he been taller than Thad, he would have been looking down his refined English nose at him. But this little weasel was short and quite full of his own self-importance. He assumed this was Mr. Beardsley, Castlereagh’s clerk. “Well, your kinsmen have been here this past hour.”
“What has it to do with me? I assume Lord Castlereagh had news he wished to discuss with them outside of my hearing.” He wasn’t surprised. Everyone had kept him in the dark, so why not Castlereagh as well?
The man led him down a seemingly endless corridor. “I thought you Scots were all about clan loyalties, even above duty to the Crown.” He gave a put-upon sigh. “Never mind, I suppose you ought to brace yourself for the battle that’s brewing. Lord Caithness and Lord Hume have worn us all out. We’ve been struggling to keep each of them from ripping the other’s throat ever since they arrived.”
Thad snorted. “They don’t like each other. They don’t like me much, either. Well, Hume doesn’t.”
“Are you certain? They’ve been fighting over you like two jungle tigers after a kill.” He glanced up at Thad once more and shook his head in dismissal. “Heathens.”
Thad might have taken offense if he weren’t so busy trying to make sense of the actions of these earls. He refused to consider the impossible…that his cousins and brother had died, leaving him heir to Caithness. Why else would these two old goats care if he was still breathing?
Caithness liked him, he knew that much.
But what of Hume?
The man was a stranger to him, so what was his motive in coming here? Although Thad was the earl’s grandson, their blood tie was through his daughter. Surely, this would put him out of the Hume line of succession. A son inheriting through his mother? It was not unheard of in Scottish title grants. Had there been the glimmer of a chance he’d assume the earldom, that Lowlander bastard would have had his claws in him years ago.
The little man was still smirking at him disdainfully. Thad’s heart felt ready to explode with grief, fearing the worst for his brother and cousins. But he wasn’t going to show his feelings to Castlereagh’s official arse-wiper.
Why hadn’t either earl thought to write to him, or call upon him at Sherbourne to report the news? He deserved to hear something, be it good or dire. Instead, he’d been dangled and played like a marionette on strings, ordered after Waterloo to return on the first ship back to England. Then ordered to Plymouth to await his regiment’s return. Then left without orders other than to remain within a day’s ride of Plymouth. Then ordered to remain within a day’s ride of London. Then back to Plymouth. London. Plymouth.
And finally, back to London.
What in bloody blazes was going on?
They finally reached Lord Castlereagh’s dining hall. Officious Clerk, as Thad had taken to thinking of the little arse, opened the door and instructed him to go in. He didn’t follow Thad in, merely closed the door behind him once Thad entered.
Well, this is going to be a jolly party.
Lord Castlereagh was standing beside a massive fireplace, his back to the hearth and his gaze on the door, so he was the first to notice Thad’s arrival. Two other men were standing beside him with their backs to Thad.
All three had drinks in hand.
“Good evening, lad. We’ve been expecting you,” Castlereagh said, raising his glass in greeting. The other two men frowned as they turned to stare at him.
“Good evening, Uncle Caithness.” He then nodded to the stern, white-haired gentleman who could only be the Earl of Hume. Gad, he resembled the man. Eyes, nose, stubborn set to his jaw. That irked him to no end. “Are ye both going to stand there gawking at me?” Thad frowned back at them. “Or will one of ye finally deign to tell me what’s been going on?” He only wished to know the fate of his kinsmen. Were they alive? That’s all he cared about. Just let them be alive.
Castlereagh motioned for a footman to bring Thad a brandy before he responded to the question. “Do join us, Captain MacLauren.”
Thad came forward to stand between the two earls. He wasn’t going to show any weakness to these old men.
Caithness gave him a friendly pat on the back. “It’s good to see ye, lad.”
“Good to see ye as well, Uncle. How have ye been?”
“Well, my boy. Quite well. We were all pleased to learn of yer safe return.”
Yet, he’d made no effort to contact Thad. “My last orders were to meet the regimental ship at Plymouth. Do ye know when it’s due to arrive?”
“Aye, lad,” Caithness said. “It’ll arrive tomorrow, but in Weymouth. Yer cousins will be on it. They’ll be taking over the duty of escorting home the bodies of our fallen kinsmen and those too injured to remain with the regiment.”
“And my brother?” Thad’s heart was in his throat. His cousins were alive and that relieved him greatly, but what of Augustus? They were brothers of the half blood, having different mothers. Although Augustus was eight years older, they’d still formed a brotherly bond that all their years apart could not diminish.
Serving together in the Greys had made their bond unbreakable.
“He’s been placed in charge of the Greys for now,” Castlereagh said. “We’re keeping the regiment on the Continent until further notice.”
Thad didn’t care about the rest of what would be discussed this evening. His brother and cousins were alive. So many of their kinsmen had fallen in battle. That Augustus, Malcolm, and Robbie were spared was a miracle. “My brother is an able man,” he said with a nod, allowing his heart to soar, but taking care not to show his feelings to these men as they continued to stare at him. “Will I be sent back to serve under him?”
“Nay, lad,” the Earl of Hume said with a deepening frown. “The notion of a Hume serving under a Caithness? Preposterous.” He hadn’t stopped frowning since the moment Thad strode in. “Ye were the commanding officer and commended yerself well. If ye were to be sent back, ye’d be in charge of the regiment and yer brother would serve under you. But ye’re more important to us here.”
“How so?” If that were true, why did they leave him dangling like a fish on a hook these past two months?
“No sense being polite about it and parsing one’s words. Here’s the situation.” Hume cleared his throat. “It has become apparent to me that neither of my sons will ever sire heirs. One was left…without ammunition, so to spe
ak, after an illness. He’s gone through two wives and has no children. The other son is a bloody idiot.”
Thad arched an eyebrow. “There are plenty of titled idiots who have sired heirs. What makes your second son any different?”
Hume shifted uncomfortably. “He always was a strange lad. Claims to have seen a vision on his way home one evening. He was sixteen at the time, no doubt making his way home drunk after a night of debauchery. Whatever he thought he saw, changed him. Vision, my arse. He was too foxed to see clearly. But he joined an order of Cistercian monks against my wishes shortly afterward, and has since pledged himself to serve God.”
“Cistercian order?”
Hume nodded. “He’s taken his vow of poverty…and of celibacy.”
Thad wanted to laugh out loud, but knew Castlereagh would lock him up if he did. “He may change his mind,” he said instead. “Wealth and power have a way of enticing a man from the path of piety.”
“If ye knew yer uncle–”
“Which I don’t since ye cut me off from all of ye the day I was born.” He knew he was being tactless. Thoughtless and irreverent. Lord, it felt good to get the anger out. It was a mild outburst compared to what he really wished to do or say to his grandfather.
“Ye have yer mother’s stubbornness.”
“I would not know since ye’ve both seen fit to tell me nothing of her.” He set down his drink and folded his arms across his chest. “Lord Castlereagh, with all due respect, I think this meeting is a bad idea. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll–”
“Captain MacLauren, you are not excused.” Castlereagh’s tone was no longer indulgent.
Thad supposed he was behaving as badly as the earls, but didn’t he have a right after all these years?
Hume spoke up, his voice so low at first, Thad had to strain to hear him. “My eldest son is dying. I doubt he’ll be with us by this upcoming Christmastide. And as I’ve already mentioned, there will be no heirs from him. My other son will abdicate the title as soon as I’m dead. The Hume lairds will see that he keeps to his promise. None of them will pledge fealty to him.”