Page 2 of Her Heart's Rightful Earl
He was only in his late twenties, a couple of years younger than Thomas, but his face was set in the manner of a man who had experienced some perils.
Alexander saw Thomas’s eyes flick to the window, assured by the drapes covering them, and then his eyes rested back on the face of his much-missed companion.
“What on earth are you doing here!?”Thomas asked, exasperated, pushing his dark hair away from the strong bone structure of his pale face.
“Your letter, old friend.” Alexander stepped towards him. “Regarding my mother’s ill health. Did I understand correctly? I did not misinterpret your code?”
Thomas closed his eyes at the realization. “No, you are correct. She is suffering, I regret to say. However, it was not my intention that you attendphysically, Alexander,” he reprimanded gently.
“It was inconceivable to consider I should stay away,” Alexander said with a shrug.
“I meant only to advise you. I would not be a dear friend to you should I conceal such important family news. These three years past, I have relayed to you all relevant details through our coded letters. I do not believe the secrecy has been compromised at any point.”
Alexander shook his head, wishing to convey gratitude at Thomas’s covert efforts to help him through his exile.
“It would have been severely remiss of me to neglect this most crucial information regarding your poor mother,” Thomas continued.
“I am grateful to you for advising me, Thomas. Surely, though, you did not expect me to stay away under such circumstances?”
Thomas looked at the floor, shaking his head slightly. “I suppose I must have known you would return, loyal son that you are. But what risks you are taking, Alexander! The people of London believe you to be dead. If you are seen, not only will there bepublic outcry, denouncing your supposed deceased status, but the magistrate will hold you responsible for the murder of your Father!”
“I am aware of the risk, Thomas. Yet I cannot allow my poor mother to die believing she will never see me again.”
“I understand, Alexander. Though I cannot proclaim I believe this action to be within your best interests.” Thomas’s dark brow furrowed in concern.
“Regardless, I am here.” Alexander spread his arms wide as if in announcement, and Thomas allowed a smile to break through, despite himself.
Thomas closed the gap of a few short steps between them to heartily embrace his friend, with a laugh broadcasting relief. He embraced Alexander fondly, and Alexander smiled for what felt like the first time in years.
“And regardless, I am overjoyed to see you, friend!” Thomas laughed. “How I wish the circumstances were better in our favour—I would have Cook prepare you a sumptuous welcome home dinner. I would offer you a bath and a soft bed in the guest bedroom. Followed by a morning of a jaunt on the horses along Rotten Row, just like we used to, remember?”
Alexander nodded with a sad smile, and Thomas sighed regretfully.
“The best I can offer you, I fear, is a Cognac. Will you partake?”
“Certainly, I will. Thank you. In Scotland, whisky has been the only choice available to me for the past three years. A brandy would be pure heaven!”
“Laird MacLeod has treated you well, I trust?” Thomas asked as he poured two fingers of Cognac from a mahogany drinks cabinet in the corner of his study.
“The man has been my saviour. I am so grateful to you for the placement.”
Thomas batted the gratitude away with his hand. “He owed me a debt and was only too happy to have another land steward about the estate to help out, I’m sure.”
“I have worked hard for him to earn my keep. I have learned a wealth of knowledge tending his land. But I simultaneously appreciate it is a lot to ask of a man—hiding a fugitive?” Alexander asked doubtfully as he took the glass Thomas held out for him.
“You are nothing of the sort, Alexander, and we both know it.” Thomas shook his head mournfully.
“That night was the most sinister and deplorable. When Marcus told me how he had found you, covered in your father’s blood, I knew at once you had simply had the misfortune of discovering his body and had no hand in the wretched deed. Marcus expressed to me how damning the scene would look to a magistrate, and we simply had no choice but to assist in your concealment.”
“My faithful brother, Marcus. I owe him my life.” Alexander clutched his chest as he thought fondly of Marcus.
“He worked tirelessly to find the real killer, in the hope that we might bring you home. Alas, to no avail …” Thomas explained woefully.
Alexander hung his head, nodding his understanding.
Thomas narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I regret I cannot allow you to stay here. My staff would undoubtedly see you, and I cannot ask them to harbour such a secret. Whilst I trust them, their sense of justice may outweigh their loyalty to their roles …”
“I would not ask that of you, Thomas. I am merely passing through–”
