Andrew dropped his nephew into the seat Nicholas had vacated and strolled to the sideboard as if the domestic scene was commonplace and he was in no hurry to speak with Gabriel.
While Gabriel watched Andrew sit next to Nicholas with a plate full of food and accept coffee from Bennett, he fought the urge to lean past his son and swat his brother on the head. He had offered food to Andrew to appear polite. The arse wasn’t supposed to accept it.
Andrew was halfway through eating an enormous serving of ham and eggs when he finally noticed Nicholas, watching him with an open-mouthed stare. The acknowledgement pulled Nicholas out of his stupor, and he studied his bowl of porridge.
‘Mama, may I have eggs and ham instead of porridge?’
Olivia shifted a glance between Andrew and their son. ‘If you’d like.’ She signalled for a footman to bring another plate to Nicholas and opened the note that had been taunting Gabriel since it arrived. Her brow wrinkled as she scanned the paper.
‘Have you received distressing news?’ Gabriel asked.
The footman re-entered the room with a plate for Nicholas as she turned to Gabriel. ‘It’s a note from—’
‘Papa never eats breakfast with us, Uncle Andrew, but since he slept in Mama’s bed last night we asked him.’
The plate slipped out of the footman’s hand, landing on the table with a thud as Gabriel choked on his coffee and Olivia turned crimson.
Andrew leaned closer to Nicholas and arched a brow. ‘You don’t say,’ he said through a devilish grin.
Nicholas opened his mouth to continue when Olivia quickly chimed in.
‘Your bruises have not improved. Perhaps now you will agree to take some healing salve home with you.’ Bless his wife’s polite diversionary tactics.
Andrew shot Gabriel a meaningful look and removed his hand from her inspection. ‘It is nothing.’
‘Papa has a scar. Mama and I saw it this morning since he wasn’t wearing a nightshirt.’
Andrew was quite familiar with that scar. It was thanks to his brother’s quick actions that Gabriel’s body hadn’t received another wound—a fatal one. Still, he needed to speak with his son about the importance of keeping certain aspects of their family life a secret. The sooner he learned that lesson, the better.
Meanwhile Andrew seemed to be thoroughly enjoying Nicholas’s loquaciousness and propped his head in his hand. ‘It seemed rather cool last night to be sleeping without a nightshirt.’
‘I said the same thing,’ Nicholas said in astonishment as his stomach rumbled loudly. Excusing himself, he hopped off his chair to fill his plate at the sideboard. It seemed discussing his parents’ private activities was not as interesting as selecting the perfect slice of ham. Thank heavens for small miracles.
Andrew went back to eating his breakfast and Olivia returned to that mysterious note.
‘I hope the news you’ve received is not too distressing,’ Gabriel said. ‘I gather from your expression that you have not received happy tidings.’
She eyed him intently. ‘I suppose it depends on who you ask. Mr West is not well and has asked me to go to the Royal Academy this morning to settle the arrangement of the paintings for the upcoming exhibition in his place. I will have to cancel my sitting for today.’
‘That is unfortunate. Did he say what is troubling him?’ He took a sip of his coffee to hide the smile that was about to spread across his face at the very notion his wife would not be continuing that bloody portrait session.
Shaking her head, Olivia leaned close enough that he could smell her honeysuckle perfume. ‘I am certain this pleases you immensely,’ she said for only his ears.
‘I would not wish ill on Mr West. You should know that.’
Olivia leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes. She took a sip of her chocolate and her soft pink tongue slipped out to lick her lip. It was almost impossible for Gabriel to hold back a sigh of yearning.
Andrew shifted in his seat, taking Gabriel’s attention away from Olivia’s lips. Prinny’s safety was his priority. Why was he having difficulty remembering that? ‘I have appointments today, Andrew. What say you we go for that ride now?’
Andrew gulped down the remainder of his coffee before he tossed his napkin on the table. ‘Excellent. Thank you for breakfast, Olivia.’
Nicholas stuck out his lower lip. ‘You’re leaving already, Uncle Andrew?’
‘I’m afraid so. However, I’d venture to say you will see me again.’ He ruffled Nicholas’s hair as he walked past him.
Gabriel crouched next to his son and Nicholas gave him a tight hug. ‘I rather like having breakfast with you, Papa,’ he said, releasing his hold.
And Gabriel realised how much he rather liked having breakfast with his wife and son. It was an improvement from eating alone, reviewing paperwork. Without thinking, he kissed Olivia on the forehead on his way to the door.
Why was everyone riding so slowly down Piccadilly at this hour? Even Gabriel’s horse was pitching forward, trying to poke his nose past all the slow goers. If they did not arrive at the park soon Gabriel feared he would no longer possess any patience at all. In the meantime he continued to scowl at every driver, rider, merchant and pedestrian he saw.
When they finally turned into the park, they steered their horses sedately onto Rotten Row. At this hour, the only people on the bridle path were a few servants exercising horses some distance ahead. Finally, he would get some answers.
‘Tell me what brought you to my door.’
Andrew guided his horse closer to Gabriel’s. ‘You will not be pleased.’
‘Is that meant to soften the blow?’
‘Mr Clarke is dead.’
Gabriel’s blood ran cold as he jerked the reins to hold his ground. ‘Care to explain?’
‘Dead. I think that just about explains it.’
‘I beg to differ. How in the bloody hell is the man dead when he is being hidden away in the Tower under lock and key? No one was to be informed he was there.’
Andrew rubbed his lips together. ‘We were all shocked by the news. He was alive last night when they brought him his food. Hours later they found him dead on the floor.’
‘Poison?’
‘It appears so. We have questioned everyone involved and have no leads. It’s as if some spectre appeared and disappeared just as mysteriously.’
‘Then no one involved in holding him and the interrogations can be trusted. Perhaps this is why they have been unable to uncover any tangible leads. Say nothing of what we suspect and keep me apprised of anything suspicious.’
‘Of
