Page 98 of Beyond the Grave
"My man is correct," Lincoln said with a hint of humor that I suspected none of the others detected. "You didn't hit your brother. He knocked you out, in fact. Afterward, he drove you to Bedlam, signed the papers, and perhaps paid a large sum to the governor to insure you weren't properly assessed. You remained there in Bedlam, drugged, for over a week until we rescued you."
Buchanan's chewing slowed as Lincoln made his speech, and finally stopped at the end with a loud swallow. "Donaldhad me committed."
"All evidence points to him. You fell unconscious at Emberly after your fight, so he had opportunity to bundle you into a coach. He knew how easy it was to have a family member committed to Bedlam after sending his wife there, and his signature was on the paperwork."
"Donald! I cannot believe it." Buchanan set down his knife and fork and stared at his plate. "He was deeply troubled by the methods employed at Bedlam when he learned what they did to Marguerite there. Besides, why would he need to get rid of me? We fought, yes, but we've fought before."
"What was the fight about?" I asked.
"Money."
"Not the baby?"
"Not really. Perhaps." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm not entirely sure, Miss Holloway. Perhaps he harbors a deep resentment toward me because of my virility and appeal to the opposite sex—Marguerite in particular. She adores me, you know. Always has. She's like a puppy when I'm around, following me about with her tongue hanging out." He chuckled and picked up his knife and fork again.
Seth rolled his eyes. Gus looked like he wanted to throw something at Buchanan. His fingers tightened around his teacup.
"You cannot recall anything after the fight?" I asked.
"Nothing. I remember him hitting me, then I felt like I was falling. A pain in my head…" He rubbed the back of his head and winced. "Then nothing."
Lincoln tapped his finger on the side of his teacup and seemed to be lost in thought. After a moment, he said, "We'll confront your brother at Harcourt House after breakfast."
"Capital," Buchanan said through clenched teeth. "I cannot wait to see the look on his face when he sees me."
I insisted on going with Lincoln and Buchanan. Buchanan was very amenable to the idea, perhaps because he thought I appreciated his little smiles and the occasional wink.Ugh.If only he knew how he disgusted me.
I was the last to be ready, and I hurried out the front door and down the steps to the waiting coach. Buchanan was already inside and Seth sat on the driver's seat. Lincoln and Gus waited for me.
"Has he thanked you for rescuing him yet?" I whispered to Lincoln as I drew on my gloves.
"No, and I expect none," he said in a low voice. "People like him don't know how to say thank you or sorry. The words aren't in their vocabulary."
Gus leaned in. "Sure you don't want to take him back to Bedlam, sir?"
"Don't tempt me."
I smiled and climbed in, settling opposite Buchanan. Lincoln sat beside me, and Gus closed the door. He was to remain behind at Lichfield. We drove in silence most of the way. Once, Buchanan muttered his brother's name again, but he mostly appeared lost in thought.
As we neared Harcourt House, he said, "Julia was worried about me, you say? Interesting." His twisted smile almost made me feel sorry for her.
The shock on Millard's face as he opened the door to his mistress's stepson set the tone for the reunion. Marguerite squealed then threw her arms around him and wept into his shoulder, whereas Julia was a little more sedate but no less effusive in thanking God and Lincoln for returning Buchanan to their midst.
Lord Harcourt also embraced his brother, only to be shoved away. He frowned, his arms still extended. "Andrew?"
"Where ever did you find him, Lincoln?" Julia asked as she studied her stepson from head to toe. "Somewhere far away, I suspect. He looks awfully tired."
Mr. Edgecombe rolled in from the direction of the drawing room, his assistant pushing the wheelchair. "Good lord, you're back! And unscathed, too. Well it's about bloody time. The uproar around here has been rather excessive. The ladies have missed your company most keenly. So, tell us. Whose bed have you occupied this past week?"
"Bedlam's," Buchanan answered.
Marguerite crumpled in a dead faint. Fortunately, Millard caught her before she hit the floor. He and Harcourt carried her into the drawing room as Julia fetched the smelling salts. The rest of us followed the main party.
Buchanan eyed his brother with such venom that it was a surprise he didn't feel it. Harcourt was much too intent on his wife, however, as she came around. She rested a pale, shaking hand on her throat as tears welled in her eyes. Her lips began to move but no words came out.
"My dear," Harcourt said, sitting beside her. "It's all right. I am here." He took her other hand in his until she noticed and snatched it back. She turned her face toward the back of the sofa, away from him.
He swallowed and slowly stood. "How did you wind up in that place, Andrew?"
