Page 3 of Her Heart's Rightful Earl
“Where will you stay?”
“I’ll get a room in Whitechapel. Somewhere shabby where nobody will know my face.”
“Be sure to use the name ‘James MacLeod’,” Thomas reminded him as they both sipped their drinks.
“Certainly. He is who I must be, now,” Alexander declared sadly.
“This is not the life you should be living,” Thomas asserted, angry on his friend’s behalf.
“What choice do I have?” Alexander shrugged.
“And from there? How do you intend to proceed? You cannot simply appear at your mother’s bedside …”
“She knows I am alive–”
“Of course. Marcus wanted nobody else to know, but I had to betray his instruction. When I saw how heartsick your mother became when she believed both her husbandandher son had died … Ihadto tell her you were safe but forced into hiding. I truly do not believe she would have survived if she thought she had lost you too …”
“She has Marcus,” Alexander asserted.
“She does. And your brother is a good fellow, to all intents and purposes, but—forgive me, Alexander—he is not the earl you would have been.”
Alexander blinked at this, processing how his brother had prematurely inherited the role as Earl of Wellwood, upon his father’s death and his own personal staged demise. It had never occurred to him to consider whether his brother would thrive in the role.
“I do hope I will be able to see my brother, as well as my mother …” Alexander mused.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alexander. It is not a social visit,” Thomas warned. “The Wellwood estate is full of people, all of whom would know you at a single glance and would question the presence of a stranger, should you arrive in disguise.”
Alexander sighed, realizing he had perhaps neglected to fully think this through.
“We need a plan.” Thomas placed his cognac glass on his desk and paced the length of his office, running his hands through his hair.
“My return was not intended to cause anguish to you, Thomas. I will see my mother briefly. Embrace her, express my love, andbid her farewell …” Alexander’s voice caught with emotion. He took a moment to swallow it back before continuing, “And then I will begin my return journey to Scotland to live out my days on MacLeod’s estate, with discretion and anonymity.”
Thomas regarded his friend in consternation. “You received my letters regarding Arabella?”
Alexander dipped his eyes, and a lump bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard. “Indeed.”
“While Marcus is away on business, she is presently residing at Wellwood with your mother …” Thomas said tentatively.
Alexander nodded once, knocked back the remaining Cognac, and placed the glass decisively on Thomas’s desk.
“Right! To Whitechapel!”
Thomas acknowledged his friend’s evasion with a sad smile.
“I wish I could offer you a ride …”
Alexander shook his head, business-like. “I will send you word of when we should meet to discuss how best to proceed.”
“Do.” Thomas opened his study door, checked both ways in the hallway to ensure no members of the household would witness Alexander leaving, and quietly ushered him out the front door.
As Alexander descended the steps, Thomas called out in a whisper.
“Oh, and Alexander!”
He turned back to look at Thomas.
“Keep to the shadows.”
