Page 99 of The Heir
“You suspect these men were sent after Mrs. Seaton,” Hazlit suggested.
The earl met Hazlit’s eyes. “I suspect one of them of being her brother, the earl. Is he reported to be portly?”
“He is not.” Hazlit fished in a pocket of his coat, and brought out a small pad of a paper. “Have you a pen?”
The earl got up and went to his desk, setting out ink, pen, sand, and knife on the blotter. Hazlit brought his drink to the desk, assumed the earl’s wingback chair, and with the earl looking over his shoulder, sketched a figure of a man.
“Helmsley,” Hazlit said tersely, tearing off the sheet and starting another sketch, this one of the man’s face. While Hazlit sketched, the earl studied the little ink drawing.
“Helmsley has bulk to him,” Hazlit said as he worked. “He’s close to six feet, and bad living is going to ensure middle age is a short interlude before the man’s shoulders are stooped, his gut sagging, and his face lined. There.”
Hazlit tore off the second drawing. “He bears a slight resemblance to your housekeeper around the eyes and perhaps in the texture and color of the hair.”
“He does.” The earl frowned. “He’s older than Anna?”
“He is. He is not your portly man, though. He qualifies as well fed but not obese.”
“Can you take this picture to the man who sold the lamp oil?” the earl suggested, picking up the second drawing. “And maybe get a description of the other fellow?”
“I can. I can also go back north and ask around regarding the portly man.”
“That will take some time.” The earl leaned against the arm of the sofa. “I hardly need tell you to spare no expense.” He appeared lost in thought, and Hazlit waited. “Do you think Anna’s grandmother is well enough to travel?”
“She hasn’t been seen much off the estate since her husband died,” Hazlit replied. “That does not suggest good health, but it might also mean she’s a virtual prisoner.”
The earl looked up sharply, and Hazlit had the sense his casual comment snapped something into place in the earl’s mind.
“If we cannot establish Anna’s brother is here in London,” the earl said slowly, “then I want you to go north and figure out just where the hell he is. I believe he is the primary threat to Anna’s welfare, and his leverage is that he holds her grandmother’s welfare in his hands.”
“And the fat man?” Hazlit rose. “We know he’s in Town and that he’s probably lying in wait for Mrs. Seaton.”
“But waiting for what?” the earl mused. “For the brother to come to Town and have the legal right to reclaim his sisters, perhaps?”
“Good question,” Hazlit agreed. “Let me take the sketches with me, and maybe by tomorrow, I can have some answers for you.”
“My thanks,” the earl said, showing his guest to the front door.
Westhaven sat in the library for long moments, sipping cold tea and staring at the first sketch. When Anna came in, he slid the drawing into a drawer then rose to meet her.
“You are up late,” she observed, going into his arms. He kissed her cheek, and Anna squealed. “And your lips are cold.”
“So warm them up,” he teased, kissing her cheek again. “I’ve been swilling cold tea and whiskey and putting off having an argument with you.”
“What are we going to argue about?” Anna asked, pulling back enough to regard him warily.
“Your safety,” he said, tugging her by the wrist to the sofa. “I want to ask you, one more time, to let me help you, Anna. I have the sense if you don’t let me assist you now, it might soon be too late.”
“Why now?” she asked, searching his eyes.
“You have your character,” he pointed out. “Val told me you asked him for it, and he gave it to you, as well as one for Morgan.”
“A character is of no use to me if it isn’t in my possession.”
“Anna,” he chided, his thumb rubbing over her wrist, “you could have told me.”
“That was not our arrangement. Why can you not simply accept I must solve my own problems? Why must you take this on, too?”
He looped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her against him. “Aren’t you the one telling me I should lean on my family a little more? Let my brothers help with business matters? Set my mother and sisters some tasks?”
