Page 69 of Beyond the Grave
"My dear, did you not hear me? We fought."
"Yes, but I haven't seen him since your father's funeral." Tears hovered on her eyelids. She dabbed at them again with Lincoln's handkerchief.
Julia's gaze was the first to slip away, then Harcourt's. As the realization slowly came over Marguerite that Andrew was likely avoiding her, her face fell further.
"What did you fight about?" I asked in an attempt to distract attention from her so she could recover. "The baby?"
"Money," Harcourt said.
"Money?" Julia lifted her shoulders. "But I give him a monthly sum to live on."
"It's not enough according to him. Andrew's tastes are expensive, Julia, you know that. No matter how much you give him, it will never be enough, because he'll gamble it all away." To Lincoln and me, he said, "He told me his debts have become too high and that his creditors are requesting payment."
"Oh, Andrew," Marguerite muttered.
"Our fight had nothing to do with the child. That matter was laid to rest years ago, along with Hector."
"So you refused to give him money and he became violent," Lincoln said.
"In a nutshell, yes. Andrew threatened to blackmail me when I first refused. He said he would make it known that I wasn't the baby's father. I think that's why he insisted on speaking to me at little Hector's grave. My brother has always enjoyed theatrics." This was said with a pointed look at Julia.
She pretended not to notice.
"I refused to give in," Harcourt went on. "I reminded him that he could get his hands on his annuity if he married. He said he'd rather gouge his eyes out, and declared that it was my responsibility as the elder brother and current baron to assist him. Once again, I refused. Then he brought up the order you belong to."
"Ministry," Lincoln corrected.
Julia sat forward. "What do you mean?"
Harcourt sighed. "He very recently discovered Father's link to your ministry through the journal he finally got around to reading. He must have been bored one night to open up that old thing and Father's other books. He said it took him several weeks of following up names, places and dates noted in the journal, but he worked out what Father and the others were up to. He told me that if I didn't give him money, he would tell the newspapers about the supernatural gibberish Father was involved in. As I already told you, I refused to give in. I don't care a whit whether Father was mad, or whether the world thinks he was. That's when we fought."
"That's what prompted him to go to Emberly," I said. "He'd only just pieced together the puzzle and decided to use it to his advantage."
Lincoln nodded. "So he left the estate in the dark, on foot, with a bleeding head wound. Not to mention that he was disappointed in your refusal to help."
"Oh, Donald," Marguerite said on a sigh. "Why didn't you go after him and give him some money? He's your brother. Heneedsyou."
Harcourt lifted his chin. "He's hopeless."
"Yes, but we must make allowances for him being the younger brother. He was never given the same responsibilities as you, or the same opportunities."
Harcourt snorted. "He was pampered by our mother."
"As was my brother. John is so like Andrew. At least, he was before the accident. And yet you've given John a home and comforts."
Harcourt gave another snort. "You are right there. They are very much alike. I cannot support them both. It's unthinkable. Besides, Julia is supporting Andrew." He flashed a hard, cold smile at her. "Our dear stepmother is more than happy to help her beloved stepson. Aren't you, Julia?"
Marguerite's nervous gazed shifted between them. Julia returned Harcourt's smile, but with more softness. "Of course I'm happy to help," she said smoothly. "Andrew and I are company for one another."
"How pleasant for you both," Harcourt sneered.
"Did Buchanan mention where he was staying that night?" Lincoln asked.
"No, but I do know where he was planning to go next. My brother is such a fool. After I refused to support his gambling habit, he declared that he was going to consult a seer and win some ready for himself."
"A seer?" the rest of us echoed.
"He says he found her name in Father's journal then cross-checked it against some ministry archives you keep in the attic, Julia. I told him the idea was absurd, and that he'd lost his mind, but he was determined to find her and use her so-called foresight to learn the winner of an upcoming boxing match. If it worked, he would use her again to place strategic bets all over the city, culminating in next spring's racing carnivals." He snorted. "I told him he was a fool and he laughed in my face. He said I was the fool and always had been."
