“Verity, she is all right?” Rex did not dare raise his head to look for the mastiff.
“Fine, except for a stitch or two. The surgeon who attended you was not willing to do the sewing at first, but your mother quickly set him straight.”
Rex could imagine. It would take a brave man indeed to disobey the countess’s orders.
“The hero of the day is in the kitchen right now, being pampered and fussed over and fed the dinner you won’t feel like eating. The dog, of course, not the surgeon.”
The very mention of eating made Rex’s stomach clench, and also reminded him of his cousin. He had to tell Daniel to be extra alert. “My cousin?”
“Mr. Daniel Stamfield, if that is who you mean, is out bashing heads. He was furious that you’d gone out without him, and feeling guilty that you’d been accosted, so he decided to revenge himself on the denizens of the neighborhood where you were attacked. Your friend Dimm is with him, at least, so I suppose he will not be arrested. I believe Stamfield’s mayhem is masquerading as a search for your assailant.”
“Daniel takes his guard dog role too seriously.” Rex knew he’d shoot anyone who harmed Daniel, so he could not fault his cousin for going off in a berserker rage, except that it was a vain effort. “He’ll never find the man, and I could not help identify him, either. I did not get a good look at him, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that hid his face.”
“Ah, but he should be easy enough to find if Daniel and Dimm are quick enough. A trail of blood led away from where you were found, not the pool of red you were lying in. We assume the dog went after the brick thrower. That’s how she came to be hurt. How many men are out there with tooth marks on them? Someone will know who needed stitches or who wears a bandage.”
That made sense, and Daniel would find the man if anyone could. Rex hoped Dimm kept him from killing the dastard long enough to discover who had hired the attack. Other than worrying about the name of his enemy, Rex could not wait to tell Daniel about their new relation.
“I say, can I mention you to my cousin? He’d never bandy your birth about, you know. I trust him with my life.”
“He already knows. He’d heard rumors, you see, in Town. It’s my eyes, I suppose. I try to keep out of the public sight, but what’s a man to do? One look was enough to bring the pieces of the puzzle together for him.”
“And he never told me the rumors? That rotter.” Rex thought he would not have been so shocked if he’d been warned. A brother, damn, and a gentleman, it appeared. He still was not used to the idea. “What about you? Where did you come in?”
“Your mother sent for me. No, don’t try to shake your head in disbelief. You are supposed to stay still. Lady Royce got the notion that someone tried to kill you in particular, that it was not a random robbery. You still had your money and your watch. Of course the dog might have frightened a cutpurse off before he could grab anything. On the other hand, the animal could have gone for an assassin’s throat when he tried to finish you off.”
Rex was certain it was a murder attempt. “I’d been warned.” And he’d ignored the warnings, damn it. “But what can you do?”
Harry smiled. “Remember, I am not a gentleman. I can speak to people who will never talk to you. I know my way around London’s underside, and have connections in all walks of life. Furthermore, your mother called for me because time is running out.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t dying.”
“No, you are not, and you are regaining your wits nicely, too. The surgeon held out no guarantee that you would, you understand, after such a blow to the head.”
Rex did not want to think of the possibilities. He was alive and somewhat coherent, unless he was imagining this whole bit about his father’s butter stamp. The pain in his head was proof enough that he was not dreaming. “You said time was passing?”
“You have been in a coma for two days. Turlowe heard of your, ah, injury and he is trying to move Miss Carville’s court date closer.”
Rex tried to jump out of bed, and almost lost consciousness from the dizziness and the agony. Now he had two brothers looking at him again, this time in concern.
“Steady on, lad. They cannot give you laudanum for the pain, not with a head wound. You’ll do better lying still.”
Rex couldn’t do anything else. He hoped his new relative did not see the dampness in his eyes. “Lud, I am helpless. What am I going to do?”
“Well, none of us think there is much you can do, right now, or for the next few days at least. So Lady Royce sent for the earl. He is on his way.”
Rex stared at the ceiling, trying to make the room stop spinning. “Now I am certain I am dead and hell has frozen over.”
Harry laughed. “Not quite. And I am here to help meanwhile. The countess even let me sit with you while she slept. Your old nursemaid had to be put to bed herself, from the shock of seeing you carried into the house.”
Rex tried to think. He did not know this man, could not rely on him, a stranger with the same blood running through his veins, but a stranger for all that. “If you would, please send word to a man called the Aide. Have you heard of him?”
The man’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Everyone has.”
“He is a smoky fellow, but he can help. The man has his fingers on the pulse of civilization, it seems.”
The smile grew broader. “He will get the message, I swear.”
Rex believed him, as he saw a wash of blue through the veil of pain. He tried to lift his hand to shake his new relation’s, then let his drop to the mattress when he could not get it past his shoulder.
“I owe you.”
Harry tucked the blankets up. “Not at all. I always wanted a brother.”
“Did you know I existed?”
“Almost from the day you were born. The earl was so happy, so proud. And he did not want me to hear the news through the grapevine.”
“But he did not care if I did?” Then Rex grew more upset. “Why did you not come find me? I wanted a brother, too, someone who could answer questions.”
“You were an infant, my boy. Later, our father was convinced that you would be embarrassed. I think he did not want to admit to a youthful indiscretion. Your mother, well, she did not want to acknowledge me at all.”
“They were wrong.”
“I think so, too. We’ll make up for the lost years as soon as you are well.”
“And you will look after Amanda for me now?”
“Of course.”
He spoke too readily for Rex’s comfort. “I say, are you married?”
“No, I have not found the right woman yet. You know, one who will understand our, ah, idiosyncracies.”
Both of them thought of their father and his wife. Rex said, “You wouldn’t want to live with a woman who did not accept what you are.”
“No, but it appears you have found a treasure who just might do. Judging from her tears, she’s fond enough of you to accept anything.”
Rex was not going to discuss his feelings toward Amanda and marriage, not with a man he had met twenty minutes ago. “I am not sure yet.”
“Well, I better be going in case you decide, to make sure you can have the bride you want, if you want.” He headed toward the door.
Rex stopped him. “Harry?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. Truly.”
Harry smiled. “What are brothers for?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
A
manda took the first chance she could to nip into Rex’s room. The newcomer had gone, Lady Royce was resting after her night’s vigil, Daniel was again out combing the streets for the would-be killer, Nanny was in a laudanum-induced sleep, and Murchison was furiously scrubbing his lordship’s uniform to get the bloodstains off it. They all knew the viscount could purchase another and was resigning his commission shortly anyway, but Murchison needed something to do.
So did Amanda. She was tired of fretting outside Rex’s door waiting for news of his welfare or of Daniel’s hunt. Daniel had laughed when she pleaded to accompany him, blood in her eyes. She was already accused of one killing, he’d said. That was enough. Amanda was so mad she felt another murder would not matter. Besides, ridding the world of the rat who had thrown the brick at Rex was not murder; it was extermination.
Amanda dismissed the footman who was assigned to watch the viscount until Lady Royce or Murchison arrived. The man protested that he had his orders to stay, but Amanda took a page from her godmother’s book, raised her eyebrows, tapped her foot, and crossed her arms. The servant left.
Amanda walked softly toward the bed. Rex was lying so still, his eyes closed, that she feared her worst nightmare had turned true, but no, someone would have told her. She could breathe again.
They had him dressed in a white nightshirt that was far too big. He slept naked—Amanda blushed to think of how she came to know that—so they must have borrowed the bed gown from Daniel. The cuffs were folded back, his hands atop the covers with billows of fabric at the sleeves, like a buccaneer pirate’s shirt. The overlarge neck opening gaped far enough for her to see the start of that faint line of soft, dark hair down his chest, the well-formed muscles. She clenched her fists to keep herself from reaching out to touch him, to make sure his heart was beating. Closer now, she could see that his chest was rising and falling in even measure, not labored or strained. She took another breath.
Between the white nightshirt, the white sheets, and the white bandage on his head, Rex could have been a ghost, or one of those Egyptian mummies they’d seen. His face had almost as little color, but he was alive and not in the troubling coma any longer.
She was as quiet as she could be, intending to sit in the chair and watch, or will him to recover, but a sigh of relief must have escaped her. His blue, blue eyes opened. He blinked a few times as if trying to remember where he was, who she was.
“It is I, Amanda.”
The viscount tried to smile without moving anything that might hurt. “Yes, I know. I was just making certain you weren’t a dream. For a minute I thought I had died and gone to heaven.”
She pulled the nearby chair closer to his bed and sat down. “Silly. You are
not
going to die.”
“No matter how much I feel as if I am ready for the grave, or so Harry told me. Did you know I had a brother?”
“I heard. And I met the gentleman earlier. He did not disturb your rest, did he?”
“Other than shaking the foundations of my life’s history and my confidence in my parents’ wisdom, no.”
“He is rather formidable, don’t you think?”
“Formidable? Did you find him so? By George, he was not insulting toward you, was he?”
“Oh, no. He just seemed confident and commanding, somewhat like how you appeared to me at first.”
“Arrogant, you mean?”
“Not at all. You were a soldier, an officer, every inch a gentleman. And he is . . .” She did not quite know what Harry was. “A self-made man, I suppose, yet a gentleman.”
“Indeed, and I admire him for that. I found him to be a fine fellow, one I would like to know better. Handsome, too,” he added.
Amanda laughed. “What, are you fishing for compliments? You must know he could be your twin, except he is older and does not have the distinguished scar on his cheek. But you are far better looking.”
“I am? How do you figure that, if we are so alike?”
“His nose is perfectly straight. It has no character.”
“Do not make me laugh, my skull hurts too much.” He raised his hand an inch or two off the mattress. She took it and carried it to her cheek. “Oh, Rex, I was so worried.”
“Don’t you know I have the hardest head in the kingdom? Except for my father, perhaps.”
“But you could have died!” She brushed away the tear that had fallen from her cheek onto his hand. “And it was all my fault.”
“Hush, angel. You were not to blame. How could you be? I was the bacon-brained idiot who went off alone with nothing but a dog and a flimsy sword stick. That was almost as foolish as walking into the French patrol.”
She swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her gown. “You rushed off without thinking because you were upset with me. You would not have gone near Mr. Johnston’s house in the first place except on my behalf. I daresay you would never have encountered the man at all, because you would not have been in London if not for my difficulties. I have brought you nothing but trouble. And now this.” She turned her face away, knowing tears upset him.
He squeezed her hand, not with any degree of force, but enough to make her look at him. “You have brought me awake.”
She pulled her hand away, ready to leave. “I am so sorry. They said you should not sleep constantly, but if you are weary . . .”
“No, I mean awake to life. I was half-dead back in the country, with no ambition and no goals or desires, nothing but clouds on the horizon. I am still not certain about what to do with myself, but now I have seen the rainbows and the stars, thanks to you. I would trade that for any number of broken heads.”
Amanda found her handkerchief and blotted at new tears caused by his words, not her guilt. “You will do something fine, I know. You will help your father, and you will help your Inspector Dimm. You will learn to be as good an earl as your own sire.” That was her fondest hope and most fervent prayer, that he would realize his duty to beget the next heir, no matter what mutton-headed vow he’d sworn to himself.
He reached for her hand again. “Thank you for your confidence in me, that I will be a worthy successor to the title.”
“You believed in me, remember?”
“Ah, but I had proof.”
“You did? Then we can disprove the charges against me?” In a perverse way Amanda was disappointed. She was thrilled not to be awaiting the gallows, of course, but once exonerated of the charges, she’d have no excuse to reside with Lady Royce. Lord Rexford would have no further need to stay on in London. “Did you find evidence at Johnston’s house?”