Page 14 of Beauty and the Rake (Endless Love #1)

“Just tell me what is going on so I can go to my rooms and change,” she responded as she pulled off the second glove and flung it on the chair where she had thrown the other.

“Roxanne! Sit!” Arthur exclaimed. Graham could tell she was frustrating him and all he wanted to do was get this over.

She sat in the cream damask wing chair where she had thrown her gloves. “Someone certainly got up on the wrong side of their bed.”

“This is no laughing matter, sister.”

“Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

Her brother knelt in front of his sister, taking her hands in his. It was almost more than Graham could take. He felt like bolting.

“It’s about Thomas,” Arthur began.

“What about him?”

“There was a fight. Somehow Thomas was in the fray…”

“Oh my God. No! Is he okay?”

Arthur cleared his throat. Graham could see him tighten his grip on her hands. “I’m afraid not. He died from his injuries.”

Saying nothing, Roxanne merely stared at Arthur in disbelief. “No, no, no. You must have misheard. Thomas was gentle. He would never get involved in a fight.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t misheard. He’s gone, Roxanne, and I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you.”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was all Graham could do to remain where he was when in fact, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her.

“No one knew of Thomas’s existence. It will be a very private funeral. No one outside the three of us. No one else. The house must not go into mourning. It would cause too many questions, and I will be judged if we did,” Roxanne said tearfully.

“Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.” Arthur let her hands go and rose to his full height.

“Thank you. Now, would one of you pour me a drink? I’m finding myself in need of some fortification after that news.”

“Wine, whiskey, or brandy?” Graham asked.

“I think a glass of wine will suffice.”

Graham walked over to a sideboard lined with decanters and glasses. Arthur followed, pouring a whiskey for himself. He poured a second while Graham was pouring the wine. They looked at each other, trying not to let their faces show any emotion.

“Arthur, do you think we could have the burial at the estate?”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

“I can contact the vicar on your behalf. I assume you would like to use the family chapel for the service?” Graham said.

“Yes,” Roxanne said.

“I’ll get word to the staff and have everything readied. When do you want to go?” Arthur asked matter-of-factly.

“As soon as it can be set up.” She turned to Graham who was standing by the hearth. “You’ll be in attendance, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to invite Casper’s son?” Arthur asked.

Roxanne shook her head. “I see no point in it. It’s not as though Thomas had a will. Any money sent from Casper’s people will end as soon as they hear the news, which I’m sure they have.”

“Agreed,” her brother said.

She rose from her chair and faced the men. “If you gentlemen will excuse me. Unless there is something else I’m needed for, I’m going to lie down for a while.”

“Of course. I understand,” Arthur said.

“I hope you feel better,” Graham added.

She gazed at Graham without any emotion. “Thank you. I’m sure you’ve had a great lark with all of this.”

He looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.

“You know, playing the concerned friend, bringing me back to London while all along pretending you knew nothing of why I was truly being brought back.”

“I asked him not to tell you,” Arthur inserted.

“It matters not now, does it?” She placed her glass onto the table between two chairs and walked out of the room without another word.

A look passed between the two of them after the door closed. “She’s hiding her feelings,” Arthur said lowly.

“Yes, she is. I can’t imagine having to live with that. I’m sure she feels as though she failed him as a mother,” Graham said.

“Casper never gave her a choice or a say in the matter.”

Graham went to refresh his drink. Arthur followed. “I had an idea. You know how Roxanne enjoys taking pictures? I was thinking of purchasing her whatever she needs to take and develop her own images. Your estate might be the perfect place to get her started,” Graham said.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’m not sure if she’s going to accept such a lavish gift from you.”

“I know, but if she rejects me, I’ll just leave it there, and I think she’ll be too curious to let it just sit.”

Arthur turned and glanced at the clock on the mantel. He took a sip of his drink. “I have a feeling Rox isn’t going to feel up to a big dinner. Why don’t we go to the club for dinner?”

“One of their steaks might just be what we need,” Graham said.

“Indeed. Let me tell the butler. He can break the news to my cook, and he can tell her Roxanne might wish a tray.”

Graham grunted and threw back the contents of his drink. Now he needed to figure out what was going on with regards to what transpired between them in the carriage earlier.

*

Roxanne didn’t wait for her maid. Instead, she kicked off her shoes, walked straight over to her bed, grabbed a blanket she kept at the foot of the bed for cold winter nights, and climbed up.

She lay down on her side and closed her eyes.

The first thing that crossed her mind was that her son was in a better place.

That he didn’t have to suffer the horrors in that asylum any longer was like a dream come true.

Though her late husband tried numerous times to tell her the place was one of the best, and if anyone could help Thomas it was them, she knew better.

She’d researched and read anything she could about facilities like this one, and what she’d found out scared her to death.

There was little hope for someone like her son.

She knew he’d never get better, but Casper thought by letting her believe he’d one day be cured, he was doing her a favor keeping the atrocities from her.

Indeed. Just like she wasn’t to speak of Thomas in the house.

It was forbidden. As far as Casper was concerned, the day Thomas left home, he no longer existed in his mind. His own son.

Blame, of course, was put directly on her.

It was her fault he was born with such a malady.

Horrors such as that were always the result of faults in the woman’s family blood or some such nonsense.

He refused to believe it just happened. Everything happened for a reason, and he vowed to never forgive her for giving him such an inferior child.

She would probably never know the joy of having children and a family of her own. Such was her cross to bear. She would get through it with grace and dignity and move forward in her life. This was her time, and her brother had given her a way to start anew, at least for the immediate future.

Then the thought of Graham kissing her in his carriage brought all sorts of conflicting messages. From everything such as how dare he to how she longed for more.

This wasn’t fair. She was in control of her life now.

She never had a man who appreciated her for who she was, and she doubted Graham was such a man.

On the other hand, he and Arthur were childhood friends, and she couldn’t see her brother allowing Graham such liberties unless Arthur didn’t know.

He wouldn’t have allowed her to travel from the seashore to London with only Graham if he did.

Finally, her eyelids grew heavy and she succumbed to much needed sleep, complete with reminders of how life would have been, should Thomas have lived.

Her plans had included taking him out of the madness and taking him home, even just overnight.

She had thought getting him away from all the mayhem and chaos he might have an opportunity to see what outside those walls was really like. Would he even remember her?

For three years she’d stayed away, hoping when she returned the nightmares would be a thing of the past. But that wasn’t to be.

The torment started almost immediately after her return.

It still raised its ugly head by making sure she couldn’t even visit friends.

But this mayhem wasn’t going to win. No indeed. She was.