The boy on the sofa cringed and gazed up at Luke, his face pale.
‘Jeffrey,’ Julia said, her smile brittle, ‘would you care to show me your pony? We did not have time for proper introductions when we met the other day. I assume you left him at the stables?’
The look of longing on her face as she gazed at the child was like a blow to the solar plexus. This was all his fault. His guilt. Which was now visited upon a wife he should never have married.
‘May I, Papa?’ What a good job his brother was doing with the lad, despite his lack of a wife. He ignored the pang the thought gave him and retained his cold expression with effort.
‘You may,’ Luke said, his face as grim as Alistair envisaged his own to be.
He and Luke rose as Julia led the boy out of the room.
‘Well?’ Alistair said.
Luke glowered. ‘First, I’d appreciate you not insulting me in front of my son.’
Alistair’s fists clenched. He relaxed them and curled his lip. ‘Your son.’
Luke flushed. ‘Damn you, Alistair. I did not come here to argue. But when your stable master curses my name at the local watering hole, it is beyond enough.’
Alistair stared at him, recognising anger and frustration and genuine bewilderment.’
‘What did McPherson say?’
‘Only that your accident might not have been an accident and there is only one person who will benefit from your death.’ He threw up a hand when Alistair opened his mouth to speak and went to the window to look out. ‘Oh, he didn’t say it in so many words, but the meaning was clear enough. Are you trying to get me dismissed?’
Alistair pulled in a deep breath at his brother’s genuine distress. ‘I did not put McPherson up to his mutterings, if that is what you are suggesting. But my girth was cut.’
Luke blanched. ‘It could have happened here.’
Jaimie could be trying obfuscate the truth in other words.
‘It might also have been an accident.’
Luke looked worried. ‘As you say.’
‘I’ll have a word with Jaimie.’
Luke huffed out a breath. ‘Actually, that was not my sole reason for calling. It is about Mother.’
Saints preserve him. ‘Yourmother.’
His brother’s lips tightened. ‘From what I gather she’s close to being done up.’
Money. It was always about money. ‘She called on my wife, uninvited.’
Luke winced. ‘I know. Your steward blabbed in the Wheatsheaf as how he was going to be escorting the great Duke of Dunstan around the estate the other day. Gossip travels fast in the country.’
Especially when the Dowager had eyes and ears everywhere. The thought struck a chord of memory he could not quite capture. Curse his knock on the head. ‘I have no plans to renovate the dower house at Sackfield, Luke. She has a perfectly good house in Yorkshire. And I will not have her under my roof.’
‘Damnation, Alistair, she wishes to visit her grandsons and I have no room at my cottage. You could—’
Alistair swung away to look out of the window and to avoid the quiet rage in his brother’s eyes. Was that rage deep enough to lead Luke to kill? ‘I could not. I am on my honeymoon. I do not intend to spend it withyourmother. I will have my man of business send her an advance on next quarter’s allowance, but she needs to rein in her expenses.’ Bitterness filled him. ‘What about you? No funds required?’
Luke muttered a soft curse. ‘I have everything I need.’
He gritted his teeth and turned to face his brother. ‘Jeffrey does you credit.’
Luke’s eyes widened. ‘Thank you. I try. I brought him because I thought you should have some knowledge of your nephews.’