Page 81 of The Mistletoe Countess
His dark gaze shot to Frederick’s. “Perhaps. I can’t remember.”
“Of course.”
“See here, Frederick, I know you and your brother left on less than amicable terms, but there’s no need to question his choices.” He wiped at his brow. “After your disagreement, I can see why you’d seek some consolation in your guilt.”
Frederick refused to acknowledge the blame and waited until Mr. Parks met his gaze again. “I have reason to believe my brother’s opinion of me had changed, Mr. Parks, and that he was not as content as you seem to suggest. Now, if you would be so kind as to revisit your memory and search again for any new information.”
Mr. Parks’s brow rose to the hairline, and he looked away. “He’d been anxious regarding estate costs for years, even before your father died, which was the main reason why—” He paused and reached for his handkerchief to attend to his nose. “Well, he thought the transition of power was providential.”
Frederick refused to physically respond to the sudden awareness. “Are you saying Edward wanted our father to die?”
Mr. Parks cleared his throat and swiped at his nose again. “What I’m saying is that your brother was concerned about the financial status of Havensbrooke and saw the untimely death of your father as an opportunity to salvage what was left of the estate’s finances. Clearly, he underestimated the cost of his actions.”
“His actions?”
“I mean, his projections.” He shuffled some papers around on his desk. “He’d hoped more funds would remain upon his succession, but as you know, you were compelled to marry a wealthy woman to save the property.”
What was Mr. Parks hiding? The letter in Frederick’s possession bled with fear but not from financial ruin. Frederick might have been away from Havensbrooke for nearly three years, but he’d known his brother well enough to doubt a desperate love of their ancestral home. For money and power? Yes. But for the welfare of a centuries’ old dynasty? Not Edward. Or their father.
“And the will?”
Parks sniffed. “I advised against making rash decisions, as any good friend should do.”
Ah! “So he meant to change it?”
Parks saw his blunder and gave his head a decided shake. “He didn’t give details.”
Frederick sat back in the chair, allowing silence a moment’s gravity.
“Do you have any reason to think my brother had enemies, Mr. Parks?”
“Enemies?” He coughed, a raucous sound. “What a thought! I suppose we all have people who disagree with us, but real enemies? I can’t think of any.”
“And what about his wife?”
“Lady Celia?” A redness deepened on the man’s face. “I mean the previous Lady Astley.” He cleared his throat. “A remarkable woman.”Remarkable?Frederick remained unmoved. “To your knowledge, did she have anyone who would wish her ill?”
He relaxed. “Celia Percy has always been the sort to garner attention, as you well know, but I can’t think of anyone who’d wish her real harm.” The man’s grin tipped in a most unsettling way. “Unless a jilted lover, perhaps?”
Frederick didn’t flinch beneath the man’s suggestion. “How would you describe my brother and sister-in-law’s relationship near the end of his life?”
“See here, Lord Astley, I didn’t ask the man about his personal affairs. If he shared something, I listened, but I would never pry.”
“Of course not.” Frederick waited, the man’s shifty expression deepening his doubt. Perhaps a little bait? “Disagreements between husband and wife can lead to rash decisions, of course. I’d assume if Edward was considering cutting his wife off, he may have garnered some opposition, even from someone as remarkable as my sister-in-law.”
“Cut off?” The man nearly shot from his chair. “Edward wasn’t the sort to allow a little tiff here and there to cause real harm.” He wagged a pudgy finger at Frederick. “I can understand why you wish to console yourself, but dragging his name or that of the esteemed Lady Celia’s into a scandal will not make things right between you and your brother’s memory. And making these conjectures about their relationship? Nasty accusations, Lord Astley.”
The malevolent glint returned to his small eyes. “Besides, weren’t you the one who discovered your brother’s body? And on the very day you returned to the country? Highly coincidental. Perhaps a guilty conscience has you seeing ghosts where there are none.”
Coincidental indeed.And “esteemed Lady Celia”? In the best society, few would have referred to Celia in that way, except those who adored her. Frederick’s thoughts paused to consider Mr. Parks and Celia. He grimaced.
But how did Parks know Frederick was the one to find Edward’s body? Mother had written him to return to England, even included tickets for passage, with an arrival the very day of his brother’s death. Either Grace’s influence was starting to spark Frederick’s paranoia, or something wasn’t all right with Mr. Mason Parks.
“Ghosts or not, Mr. Parks, what is less known is that my brother had been dead at least an hour when I arrived. Both our family doctor and several witnesses can confirm my involvement should any unnecessary rumors arise.”
“Well then, I really can’t help you any further.” Parks stood and marched toward the door. “I will take this conversation for what it truly was, a way for you to deal with your grief, but other than my sincere condolences, I cannot imagine being much help to you. Perhaps you should leave the sad turn of the past exactly there.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Parks, the past has an uncanny way of impacting the present, and I’ve no interest in being caught unawares.” He tipped his head. “Good day.”
