by Lisa Campell
Thomas could only hope that they sent her away as soon as possible. He wanted to know that Anna was safe and that he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder. Evelyn had shown in the past that she could be vindictive, and she had lashed out before. He didn’t want Anna to be the target this time.
Even after he left Latimer’s house, Thomas was still angry. Who would do that? To say such things to a child. And the entitlement Evelyn had, even after being told multiple times that she was not becoming Mrs. Andrews anytime soon. Thomas wanted nothing to do with her, and yet she seemed to keep forgetting that.
Maybe they should book her into a madhouse or have someone check her over. Evelyn was acting like a woman with a single-minded attitude, and it was getting ridiculous. How could someone go along like this for fifteen years and not know it was wrong?
Not for the first time, Thomas cursed his grandmother. She was the reason for this, and now Thomas was suffering from her meddling.
He didn’t want to go home when he was feeling like that. Anna didn’t deserve to see him like this. Emilia could keep her occupied. Thomas needed a distraction, something that would calm him enough that he could go home without any concerns that he was going to lose his temper.
So, Thomas headed out to Drake’s. He arrived shortly before ten and led his horse to the stables he rented around the side of the building. Leaving his horse with the stable lad, Thomas headed inside. Even at this time of the morning, the place was going to be busy. People wanted to gamble at any time, and Thomas tried to accommodate. His staff worked around the clock to make that happen. As long as they did as they were told, Thomas had no problem with that. Providing his staff got the rest that they needed.
Thomas entered his office on the top floor. A large, burly man with a bald head in his shirtsleeves was sitting behind Thomas’ desk, head bent as he wrote something in the thick ledger that they kept for accounts. It looked strange seeing the former soldier like this. Thomas knew the man would do the paperwork, but he had never caught him in the act.
“Morning, Brent.”
Brent glanced up, and then he did a double take. He shot to his feet.
“Thomas, morning. I didn’t know you were coming in at this time.”
“It wasn’t planned. Getting out of the house.”
“I see.” Brent raised his eyebrows. “Same problem?”
“Same problem.” Thomas didn’t need to guess what his second-in-command meant; Brent knew him far too well. “I wanted to make sure you had things sorted for this evening.”
“I was in the process of doing that just now.” Brent gestured at the ledger. “I’m almost done, and then should be ready for when you come in.”
Thomas didn’t know what he would have done without his friend. He had known Brent since they were children and kept in touch even as Brent went into the army and fought against France, Sweden and Russia. When Thomas bought Drake’s, Brent was just coming back after leaving the army and was looking for a job, so Thomas offered him a chance to be the day manager at Drake’s. Brent would look after the place during the day and then Thomas would take over in the evening. Because the two of them knew each other so well, it was a good arrangement. Brent certainly knew how to run things as Thomas wanted, and he kept a tight ship.
At least he had one person he could rely on when it came to his business.
“You’re worth your weight in gold and then some, Brent.” Thomas came around the desk and clasped his friend’s arm. “You certainly are.”
“Well, someone has to do it.” He was nonchalant, but Brent blushed. “I like to pull my weight.”
“I know you do.”
Thomas made a mental note to send Brent on a holiday. He worked all day every day, and he was getting married soon. They hadn’t been able to make up their minds about where to go on their honeymoon. Perhaps he should organize that himself and there wouldn’t be any arguments.
He looked over the ledger. There was a column for debts that were accumulating and a lot of them were crossed out, indicating that they had paid. That column was getting wiped clean each day Thomas came in.
Except for one payment. Right in the middle of the book, almost glaring up at him. That one had been there for a while now, and it didn't show any signs that it was getting paid. If anything, it seemed to be growing. But Thomas would deal with that later. Right now, there was something more pressing.
“I saw Mr. Christian Hill in the main hall playing at the tables when I came in.”
“Yes.”
Brent’s expression didn’t change, but Thomas saw the dark look pass over his eyes. Brent was one of those people who would take the rules seriously. Society dictated that people who lost a loved one would be in mourning for a good period of time depending on how close they were to the person who died. In Thomas’ case, when Olivia died, he had to be in mourning for at least a year. Being the brother of Jonathan Hill, Christian would be mourning him anywhere between three and six months. Ultimately, it was up to the relative in question, but Thomas didn’t remember Christian even mourning his brother. He kept showing up the same as usual. From what Thomas had heard, Christian had declared he and Jonathan were close, although from what Thomas had seen, the man wasn’t even wearing black. It was like he was in denial that his brother was gone.
Or he had something to hide.
Thomas pushed that away. That was pointless thinking. Christian couldn’t kill anyone. He could have a temper himself, but the only person he was a danger to was himself. It was a race to see if bankruptcy or alcoholism was going to claim him first.
“Would you tell Mr. Hill that I would like to see him? I think he and I have a few things to discuss.”
Brent frowned. “Are you sure about that, Thomas? That could make things look worse for you.”
“You mean any worse than they are?” Thomas sighed. “Look, Brent, just get him up here. I want to talk to him.”
“Right you are, Thomas. Do you want me to stay around as well?”
“Please.” Thomas shrugged out of his outdoor coat and draped it across the back of his chair. “I don’t want anyone to claim that I’ve been violent again.”
Brent nodded and left the room. Thomas took off his coat, putting that on his chair as well. Then he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up before unbuttoning the neck and loosening his cravat. That felt a lot better. It felt like his shirt was cutting off any feeling in his hands. He made a mental note to get new shirts that actually fit.
Thomas would certainly need to keep his cool when dealing with the entitled mess that was Christian Hill. How he was related to Jonathan Hill, he had no idea. Jonathan held up his hands to his problems, while Christian simply sank further into denial. It was beggar’s belief looking at the two of them together.
There were moments when Thomas did think, perhaps uncharitably, that the wrong Hill brother had been killed.
Brent returned, Christian Hill in tow. Thomas took a moment to look the man over, and he saw a young man who seemed to have aged ten years in just a few days. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a while, but the alcohol stench was strong. Thomas’ eyes were watering from it, even from across the room. Christian had taken his brother’s death harder than anyone else.
But, then again, what did he know about sibling relationships? He was an only child.
It wasn’t Thomas’ place to determine what the brothers had, but he could see Jonathan’s death had hit Christian harder than most.
“Mr. Andrews.” Christian gave him a solemn nod, his expression wary. “Mr. Brent said you wanted to see me?”
“I did.” Thomas settled in his chair and sat forward. God, why was this so difficult to say out loud? He knew the truth, so why was he trying to justify? “I just wanted to offer my condolences regarding your brother’s death.”
“Thank you.”
There was silence. A little longer than it should have been. Now the silence was thick and uncomfortable. Thomas had never felt such disc
omfort since telling his grandmother to leave his private affairs alone. That had been difficult, considering how easily his grandmother turned on the tears and complained that everyone was mean to her.
This is not about her. Forget her.
“I…” Thomas looked at his hands. “I know that you’ve heard the rumours.”
“Mr. Andrews?” Christian’s eyes widened. “You think...that I might have started them?”
“No, of course not.” Thomas looked up and sat back in his chair. “I have a pretty good idea who started the rumours. But I wanted to address them with you.”
“I…” Christian blinked. Then his eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to address them, Mr. Andrews? Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Do you think I am?”
Christian snorted. He folded his arms, his expression now turning into a scowl.
“We can go back and forth answering questions with questions, Mr, Andrews, so I’ll cut that out for you. I have heard the rumours, and I’m more than aware that you are being implicated as the killer of my brother. I’m sure you brought me up here to tell me that you never killed him.”
Thomas was thrown. He glanced at Brent; whose mere response was to arch an eyebrow. Thomas turned back to Christian.
“Well, I understand your suspicions…”
“I’m glad you do. And while I’m sure you want me to believe you’re an innocent man, I have my own thoughts on the matter.”
He really did believe the rumours. It was no wonder his niece was under the impression that Thomas was the one responsible for her father’s death. Thomas didn’t know what he could do to change their minds, but he could put his own mind at rest that he was innocent.
“All right. You believe that I killed Jonathan?”
“I don’t know, not completely.”
Thomas sat forward. “But if there’s a hint of suspicion, why are you here? I can’t see you playing cards at Drake’s when you believe that I may or may not have killed your brother. That speaks of...well, it doesn’t say much about you.”
Christian’s cheeks reddened. There it was. A bit more emotion. The young man looked at the floor.
“We mourn in different ways. Some people stay at home, hide away. I need something to distract me or I’ll end up self-destructing.” He shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m meant to be a guardian to my niece, and she refuses to be anywhere near me. She’s staying with a friend right now. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been drinking a lot lately, more so since I heard about my brother. My niece...she can’t even look at me. This has just torn us apart.”
“And you need someone to blame.”
Christian said nothing, but the tension in his shoulders said everything. Thomas rubbed his hands over his face.
“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here if you think I’m a killer.”
“It’s either do something that can distract my mind or drink myself into the gutter.” Christian shrugged, still looking sullen. “Drinking doesn’t get rid of the memories. They just make me angrier. So, I come to something I’m good at. Even if you are in charge of it.”
Thomas disagreed on that, but the reasoning he could understand. Even so, he wasn’t too happy about having someone who believed he killed someone in Drake’s. It didn’t feel right.
“You do know that your niece has openly accused me of murder?”
Christian winced. “I heard the rumours and I told her about them. She took them the wrong way. You know what women are like; they tend to jump to conclusions and they’re very strong-minded when they want to be.”
“Well, just so things are cleared up here, I want you to know that I did not kill your brother. Jonathan Hill left here alive and well. And he was not murdered in Drake’s.” Thomas pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I just wanted to make sure you know my side. Someone killed your brother, but it wasn’t me. I wanted you to hear that from me first.”
Christian swallowed hard. He wiped his hands on his britches.
“I understand, Mr. Andrews. And thank you for telling me.”
“As long as you get it along to your niece that I am innocent, and I won’t stand for being harassed for something I didn’t do.”
“Understood, Mr. Andrews, but you know what women are like.”
Thomas did know, but he wasn’t stupid. Women could be logical creatures when they wanted to be, and he could only hope that Miss Hill was logical. A headache, yes, but her logic should make her realize she was jumping to conclusions.
“Listen, Christian, I don’t want to get into it all with you about your niece, but I will say this now. You should be grieving for your brother. You shouldn’t be here.”
“What?” Christian stared. “You’re going to deny me from coming here?”
“If it means you stay home and go through your mourning period correctly, yes. You know as well as I do that it’s disrespectful to gamble away after your brother’s death.” Thomas gave him a pointed look. “And with very little money.”
Christian flushed. He shuffled from foot to foot. “But...but...what should I do? I can’t not come here.”
“A few weeks away from Drake’s won’t do you any harm. But I want you to be there for your family. You’re Miss Hill’s guardian now, yes?”
“Yes.”
“You should be at home for her. Focus on your family. Get through your mourning, and then I’ll consider letting you back in. In any case,” Thomas eyed Christian’s shaking hands, the bloodshot eyes, and the reddening of his face from over drinking, “I don’t think you’re in any fit state to be gambling. You need to go home before you end up losing everything you have.”
“But I had a good hand!” Christian cried. “I can’t back out of that!”
“I’ll square it away with your table, but I want you to go home.” Thomas held up a hand as Christian tried to protest again. “Two months, at the most, to mourn your brother and look after your niece. Then I’ll consider letting you come back.”
Christian looked very upset, but Thomas didn’t care. Mourning was not meant to be for gambling, and he had the same rule for everyone. Family was priority, not losing money as fast as possible. Christian needed to remember where his priorities were, especially if his brother had just been killed. He had to learn to grow up and remember who he had relying on him.
Christian’s shoulders slumped and he looked at the floor.
“All right, Mr. Andrews,” he mumbled. “I’ll go home.”
“It’s best that you do.” Thomas pushed himself to his feet. “And you have my condolences again.”
Christian grunted and practically shuffled out of the room. It was like a petulant child had been told that he couldn’t do something. Thomas was expecting a tantrum and throwing his arms about screaming. Christian had been known to do that before. Brent followed him and shut the door.
“I’ll make sure he leaves instead of going back to his table.”
“Do that.” Thomas rubbed his hands over his face. “And make sure he has an escort to take him home. That’s where he needs to be right now.”
“All right.” Brent frowned. “Do you think that was wise banning him from Drake’s during his mourning? You’ve not done that before.”
“I don’t know. But he lost his brother and the implications are that Drake’s is involved in some way.”
And Christian had his niece to think of. She wasn’t going to be impressed at all that her uncle was at the place where she believed her father was killed, and Thomas didn’t want to deal with her accusing him of something regarding Christian as well. He had enough headaches, as it was, without adding to the pressure behind his eyes.
“Is Miss Hill still pestering Constable Bowers about her father’s death?” Brent asked.
“She believes…” Thomas stared. “How did you know that she’s spoken to Bowers about it?”
“Word gets around fast. You know that.” Bren
t shrugged. “And just so you know, I know you didn’t kill him. You had no reason to, and I’ve never seen you raise a hand to anyone. Everyone here knows it’s all lies.”
That made Thomas feel a little better. Just a little. He managed a slight smile.
“I’m glad you think so. But Hill has more important things to worry about. Mostly, his new role as a guardian to his niece.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Hopefully, the time away from Drake’s will make him realize that Miss Hill needs him more than the cards do.”
