Page 4 of The Earl Takes All
“I don’t know that I can help you with this,” Ashe said. “Deceit does not sit well with me.”
“And you think it sits well with me?” Edward asked, the pain and agony from weeks of deliberation, guilt, and doubt slicing through his voice. “I convinced him to go with me because I selfishly wanted one last trip together. I wanted him to put me before her. And it cost him his life. All I can do now is strive to ensure it doesn’t cost him his child. It’s all that’s left of my brother. I would have given anything to be the one we laid in the vault this afternoon. But that I cannot change. So I am left with only the ability to keep my promise to him. No matter the cost, no matter how mad it seems, I know no other way to ensure Julia does not lose this child. So help me. If you truly loved Albert as you claim, then help me.”
With a deep sigh, Ashe walked to the sideboard and poured himself a generous amount of scotch. “We’ve known you since you were seven. While your looks are identical, your mannerisms are not. You don’t rub your right ear.”
“Ah, damn, yes.” He did so now, pulling on it until it hurt. When he was five, Albert had lost hearing in that ear after Edward shoved him into a frigid pond. Afterward, it pained him from time to time and he would rub it, especially when he was contemplating a matter—usually trying to determine the best way to bring Edward to task for some misconduct.
“And you toss back far too much scotch, far too quickly,” Locke said. “I don’t suppose you’ve stopped doing that.”
“No, but I only do it after she’s gone to bed.”
Ashe narrowed his eyes. “You don’t go to bed with her?”
“God, why would I? I’m certainly not going to cuckold my brother even if he is dead.”
“I can’t speak for Albert, but whether or not I make love to my wife, I sleep with her nestled within my arms.”
“Because you’re disgustingly in love.”
“So was he.”
Edward shook his head. “They have separate bedchambers. I’m safe there.”
Ashe tilted his head. “So do we.”
With a harsh curse, Edward filled his glass to the brim with more scotch, walked over to the seating area by the fire and dropped into a comfortable chair. Surely, Julia would have said something if he was supposed to be in her bed. Unless she was crediting his absence as a need to grieve alone. How long before his odd behaviors caused her to worry, added strain to the situation, burdened her until he caused to happen exactly what he was trying to prevent?
Ashe and Locke joined him, taking nearby chairs. Neither appeared pleased to be there but at least they were no longer looking at him as though he were as mad as the Marquess of Marsden.
He stared into the writhing flames of the fire, imagined his eternity would be spent thrashing about in the ones ignited in Hell. “I thought about staying in Africa, sending her a telegram with an excuse for our delay, but I knew Albert would haunt me if I left her alone as her time carrying his child neared an end. I’m well versed in the dead haunting the living.”
“My mother’s ghost screeching over the moors is nothing but my father’s madness,” Locke said.
“Still, I grew up with it.” Edward glanced over at the two men who had been like brothers. “Do you know if Albert had a special endearment for Julia?”
Both men blinked, looked at each other, seemed at a loss for words. Finally, Ashe said, “He’s the sort who would have had one, but I never heard him call her anything other than Julia.”
“Neither did I,” Locke admitted. “It was probably saved for intimate moments.”
Bloody hell. He’d had such confidence that he could adequately imitate his brother, but they were unveiling countless things he never considered. For the short term, he’d succeeded. For the long term, it was going to require more awareness and effort. “I haven’t sorted through his things. Merely packed them up.” He’d had both his trunk and Albert’s placed in the bedchamber that had been his when he visited. To be gone through later. “Perhaps I’ll find a letter he penned that can provide some answers.” A letter possibly unfinished that would tear at his gut. Death left much undone.
“Have you contemplated,” Ashe began slowly, tapping his finger against his half-empty glass, “that you are going to have to abstain completely from any sexual encounters? Considering your past and your appetites, that’s going to create quite the challenge, which I honestly don’t know if you’re up to meeting. But should she hear of you fornicating about, thinking it was Albert being unfaithful to her,thatcould very well cause her to lose the babe.”
“I considered that and I plan to be as chaste as a monk.” He released a self-deprecating laugh. “It might not be as hard as you imagine. None of my previous conquests were here today. And some of them were ladies.” He’d noticed their absence, along with the absence of tears. Not a single one shed for Edward. Christ, attending one’s own funeral was an incredibly humbling experience.
“Edward—”
“Greyling,” Edward said, cutting off Locke. “If my ruse is to have any chance at all of succeeding, you must both acknowledge me as the Earl of Greyling, call me either Greyling or Grey, as you did Albert when it wasn’t only us about. Except now you must do it even when we’re alone. Lest you slip when we’re not.” And he needed to stop thinking of himself as Edward. In manner, thought, and deed, he had to become the Earl of Greyling. At least until Julia delivered the heir.
Then he would be obliged to do what he did best: give her another reason to hate him by revealing the truth, breaking her heart, and shattering her world.
Chapter 2
Indeath, it seemed Edward Alcott was accomplishing what he’d not been able to in life: He was causing Julia to lose Albert. Since his return, Albert seemed to welcome any excuse not to be in her company. She despised that she was experiencing petty jealousy toward a dead man because all of her husband’s focus was on him, that she’d begun to doubt herself and question her husband’s love for her.
She rather wished now that she hadn’t encouraged him to go, to take one last trip with Edward, but she knew how much he’d enjoyed traveling before she came into his life. Bless him, he’d always sensed how much she worried that something awful might happen while he was away, so he’d curtailed his exploits, which had created a fissure between the brothers. She’d thought the trip would do them all a world of good, might make Edward more accepting of her. It was no secret among the aristocracy that they didn’t quite approve of each other. It saddened her that they’d not been on good terms when he parted this earth.
Suddenly she became aware of a hand closing around hers on her lap and squeezing.
