Page 27 of Never Doubt I Love (Calloway #3)

The sun had barely risen before Alexander walked the couple of blocks that would take him to Hugh’s London house. He felt so light and free, to the point where he whistled a cheery tune as he walked, though he was grateful the city had yet to wake around him. He felt as if nothing could ruin his mood, and even his valet seemed to have a bounce in his step.

The Tipton residence was quiet when Alexander opened the front door, though that was hardly new. Mornings were always quiet. Hugh generally slept until noon, and Charles rarely slept at home to begin with. Still, as Alexander took in the dust motes floating lazily in the rays of sunlight coming through the large upper windows of the entryway, something felt... off.

“Start gathering the rest of my things,” he told his valet, keeping his voice low. “The sooner we get it all, the sooner we never have to come back to this place.” He watched the valet eagerly run up the stairs, chuckling to himself, but then a cold sense of dread settled over him as soon as he was alone.

Harstone had mentioned last night that, according to Forester, Hugh had left the fencing club only moments after Alexander had, not speaking a word to anyone. No one had seen him since, and rumors were running wild across London. Alexander was almost glad to have been away for the worst of the gossip, though his absence among Society would have been noted. Harstone had also said Olivia’s name had been whispered about without ceasing, though the ton seemed to collectively agree that she was innocent in everything. As long as she could live out her days happily, nothing else mattered.

“Lord Alexander?” Brunton, the butler, appeared in the corridor with wide eyes, as if he had not expected Alexander to ever return.

Alexander gave him a brief smile. “Hello, Brunton. I am only here to collect the last of my belongings.”

“So it is true that you...” The butler grimaced, shaking his head. “Forgive me, my lord. I was about to speak out of turn.”

“I wish you would, Brunton. I welcome your opinions.” More so, Alexander was curious about what the quiet butler would say if given the chance.

Brunton glanced around the empty entry hall and then leaned closer. “Is it true you have abandoned your place in this family?”

Alexander’s smile came more easily now. “Yes, Brunton, it is true. I have decided to make my own way. Perhaps then I will finally be happy.” With Olivia involved, it would be impossible to be otherwise. “Is the duke still in bed?” In other words, would he need to be in and out as quickly as possible to avoid the chance, however small, of running into his brother so soon after their duel?

Brunton frowned. “I have not seen His Grace since yestereve.” While that wasn’t unusual, the butler seemed to find something troubling about Hugh’s absence. “His Grace was...”

“He was what?” Alexander pushed.

“He was not himself, my lord. He spent the day in his cups and said not a word to anyone. I advised him to stay in last night, but he insisted. Said he had an urgent matter to attend to.”

Alexander’s heart began pounding in his chest as trepidation left his mouth dry. An urgent matter for Hugh usually meant a clandestine meeting with a woman or an engagement of honor. A duel. “Brunton,” he said, hurrying to Hugh’s study. The butler followed. “Did he take his dueling swords?”

“No, my lord.”

That was only a small relief. If Hugh was drunk, there was no telling what sort of trouble he may have gotten into during the night.

The study was just as quiet and empty as the rest of the house, but Alexander did not breathe easily until he saw Hugh’s dueling pistols right where they should be, next to the swords. “He must have fallen asleep somewhere,” he said in relief.

One of these days, Hugh’s life was going to catch up to him and force him to face the consequences of the way he had been living.

“My lord?” Brunton cleared his throat, his eyes on the floor.

“What is it, Brunton?”

“I fear His Grace may be in danger.”

Alexander stepped closer. “What sort of danger?”

“There is a man.” Brunton swallowed. “He has been watching the house for some weeks now. Since before you left. This man has left several letters for His Grace with various staff, most of them regarding payment of some kind. His Grace insists there is nothing to worry about, but the staff are nervous.”

Why had Alexander not heard of this before now? “Has the man hurt anyone?”

“No, my lord. His Grace has said the man—Stubbs is his name—is not in his right mind, but Lord Charles has requested to be informed of Stubbs’s whereabouts at all times.”

Charles knew about it? Alexander was about to ask more questions, but then something sparked his memory. He had heard that name before. Stubbs. More than once, if he was remembering right, though he had never paid attention. Why would he, when all of his focus had been on Olivia and keeping her safe? Besides, Hugh and Charles were always talking about some man or other, usually men they had wronged.

Panic rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “Brunton, if this has been going on for so long, why do you think Hugh is in danger?”

“Because I haven’t seen Stubbs for these two days. He has always been here, for some part of the day, without fail. Until now. And Lord Charles was away until late last night, just before he left with His Grace. But he said to guard the house carefully.”

What did that mean? Perhaps Alexander would pass this information to Calloway or Forester. Surely one of them would either know Stubbs or have an idea of what to do, though it would help to know where Hugh was.

“Well,” Alexander said, thinking out loud, “perhaps we should—”

A crash echoed through the house. Alexander and Brunton both took off running. Alexander was faster, but the sight he came across as he skidded to a halt in the entryway didn’t make sense. Charles was dragging someone through the front door with extreme difficulty, both of them covered in mud and blood.

“Charles?” Alexander took a wary step closer, trying to get a better look at the man on the floor.

Charles slipped, landing in a heap, and when he looked up at Alexander, his face was twisted in agony. Had he been hurt? “Alex,” he gasped.

“Charles, who is... ?” But Alexander did not need to finish that question. Not now that he had gotten close enough to see the man’s pale face above a chest painted red. Hugh! “Fetch a surgeon!” Alexander choked out to Brunton before dropping to Hugh’s side. There was so much blood that Alexander couldn’t find a wound, though he tried, trembling hands searching Hugh’s chest.

“He wouldn’t pay,” Charles moaned, still gripping Hugh’s ankle. “Wouldn’t pay, and he got angry, and I couldn’t...”

There. Alexander pressed his hands over what looked like a bullet wound in Hugh’s rib cage, though the hole was no longer bleeding. That did not bode well. “What happened?” he whispered, barely breathing.

Charles wailed and said something completely unintelligible.

“Charles!” Alexander grabbed his arm. “Tell me what happened.”

“Stubbs.” Charles finally released Hugh as he sobbed into the floor. It took him a long while before he could say anything else, and even then his words were laced with misery. “Hugh was with Stubbs’s wife while he was at sea. Months ago. She became with child, and Stubbs tried to call him out when he discovered it upon his return a few weeks ago. Hugh offered to pay him instead, but he did not have the money. Stubbs was patient. Kept waiting for his money. But he must have discovered the estate is bankrupt, because he renewed his challenge last night, and Hugh accepted, and...”

Alexander looked down at Hugh as fear and sadness washed over him. “Where the devil is that surgeon?” he asked, though there was no urgency in his words.

“It is too late, Alex.” Charles slowly sat up, his expression now empty, as if he had gone entirely numb. “He is already dead.”