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Chapter Thirty-Three

“ T here’s no message here for you, my lord.”

Zeke stared at the spectacled, bald little man who peeked at him from behind the telegraph machine.

Zeke shifted his gaze to the box of orange envelopes situated on the credenza behind the operator. How hard would it be to reach over that shiny head, grab the messages, and search them himself?

“Check again. My brother specifically told me he’d be in touch by today, and I’m sure I specified this office.”

The man puffed out his cheeks and looked ready to argue, until he glanced up. Whatever he read in Zeke’s eyes had him swiveling in his chair and all but diving for the box.

He searched the messages forwards and backwards, and with evident reluctance turned back to Zeke. “I’m sorry, my lord, truly. It is not here.”

Zeke might have to kill Caden next time he saw him. He’d left Kitty’s warm bed, ridden all this way, for the sole purpose of learning Caden’s so-called important information.

Behind him the door to the post office jingled as another customer entered.

“I’ll wait,” Zeke growled at the machine operator, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bullying a hapless public servant, Thurgood. Haven’t you anything better to do?”

Zeke’s brows shot up at Randall’s voice. And, he’d be willing to bet the man had company. His mouth twitched and he made a slow about-face. “Caden, Randall,” he said with a nod for each.

The pair of them stood side by side, their big frames taking up far too much space in the small office.

“Caden, how lucky for you to have arrived at precisely this moment.” Zeke grasped his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.

Caden shot Zeke a querulous look. “Why’s that, brother?”

Zeke smiled coolly. “Because you just interrupted my very detailed plot of your impending demise.”

Caden’s mouth quirked in a grin. “Born lucky, I suppose.”

Zeke gestured for the two men to precede him out of the office. They convened on the cobbled street, making a loose knit circle.

He wasted no time getting to the point. “Tell me the damned news I’ve been waiting to hear for over twenty-four hours, and after that, explain why you’re here.”

“As to why we’re here…” Caden wrinkled his nose. “For one thing we brought you a change of clothes. We figured the ones you had with you must be ripe by now.”

“We figured correctly,” Randall added with a waft of his hand.

Zeke gazed heavenward. “You came all this way to see to my grooming needs?”

“That and we have news to deliver, of course. Thought it would be too wordy to express via telegraph.”

“What is it?” Zeke bit out.

“Not until you’ve done a quick change—and we have some food in front of us,” Caden said, without a trace of his usual lighthearted charm.

Zeke opened his mouth to argue.

Caden forestalled him, lifting one hand. “Before you waste your breath telling us there isn’t time, think of your horse. She needs a break. While you’re at it, think of yourself. You look half-starved. When’s the last time you ate?”

Zeke’s mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t remember.

“There’s an inn a block and a half down the street.” Caden jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’ve already made arrangements to get you clean and fed.” With that, Caden and Randall turned on their heels and marched off, leaving Zeke to grudgingly follow.

“How is the lady, by the by?” Randall asked over his shoulder. “You have been in communication with her since…er…she announced her plans?”

An image of Kitty as he’d last seen her sprang to mind. Zeke felt the blood rushing up his neck. “I have.”

“Good. I for one have been worried sick about our Kitty,” Caden said.

“She’s quite well, despite her brother’s best efforts.”

“Poor darling. All ready to deliver herself up on a silver platter,” Randall said, shaking his head.

Zeke grunted.

“Speaking of which—what’s Hastings got to say for himself?” Caden demanded.

Zeke coughed into his palm. “I…er…haven’t spoken to him.”

Caden stopped short and Zeke nearly rammed into him. “How is it you can assure us of Kitty’s well-being as if you spoke with her only this morning, yet you haven’t made your presence known to her guardian?”

“Yes, rather neat trick, that,” Randall added, also at a standstill.

“I’ll be happy to explain my strategy as pertains to Kitty’s safety as soon as you fill me in on this so-called news you felt the need to travel from London to continue withholding from me,” Zeke barked.

“After food,” Caden replied, and he and Randall resumed their brisk stride.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re both stubborn as a mules?” Zeke groused.

“I learned from the best,” Caden replied. “Here’s the inn.” He produced a turnkey from his waistcoat jacket and tossed it to Zeke. “Second floor, room two. We’ll wait for you in the dining hall.”

Within thirty minutes, Zeke was relatively clean, having availed himself of a quick shave with a sharp razor, thanks to Caden, and a quick scrub in the steaming bath he found waiting for him. He dried hastily and donned the clean travel clothes Caden brought, then made for the pub style eatery.

The rich scent of roasted meat and fresh baked bread assailed his senses when he entered the dining room.

He was hungry. Ravenous. Taking time to eat over the last few days hadn’t been a priority.

Now his mouth watered to the point of a drool.

Caden’s instinct to clothe, feed, and water him was spot on.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t string Caden up by his boot straps if he didn’t reveal his information immediately and let him get back to Kitty. Leaving her alone with James and Hastings left him uneasy. He couldn’t help fearing they’d drag her to the altar while his back was turned.

She wouldn’t go along with it in any case, he told himself. Not while there was a chance she carried his babe. A hot rush of tenderness and need roiled up in him. Oddly, it felt good. Right.

He spotted Caden and Randall and dropped onto the bench-style seat across from them.

Immediately Caden shoved a bowl of steaming beef stew and crusty bread under his nose.

“There’s a frothy pint here for you, too, if you’re a good boy and eat your meal,” Caden drawled. “You almost look like yourself.”

Zeke picked up his spoon and aimed it at Caden. “Tell me what you know.”

Caden eyed the food meaningfully. “Eat.”

Zeke glared. “Speak.”

“Bloody hell. Caden will talk. You will eat.” Randall shook his head.

Both brothers grunted their assent.

Zeke reached across the table to grab the pint Caden had thought to withhold and lifted it to his mouth.

Caden locked eyes with Zeke. “Garrick James never inherited Maidstone. Hastings is still the rightful heir by law.”

Zeke managed to slog several gulps while frowning over the rim. He set the pint down with a thud and picked up his spoon. “That can’t be.”

“You yourself said you doubted James’s ability to inherit, being the son of Lord Hastings’s bastard brother,” Randall put in. “You had it right all along.”

Zeke spoke through a mouthful of stew. “That was before James produced the Royal Writ of Summons, calling him to appear at the House of Lords this spring.”

Caden nodded. “That certainly had me convinced. Lucky for you, you asked the earl’s man-of-affairs to look into James’s background before the writ arrived to throw us off.

“When I arrived in London, I went to him for help digging into Hastings. Imagine my surprise when he handed me a set of documents showing Hastings, and not James, to be the, as yet, heir to the Maidstone barony.”

Zeke broke off a piece of bread. “The mystery of the writ aside, I can see James being unable to qualify, but Hastings was pronounced dead.”

Caden and Randal exchanged looks. “That’s just it, Zeke.

The crown only just began looking into his so-called death at James’s insistence.

Evidently, the powers that be never got any official certificate.

Not one that got filed properly, at any rate.

James did make a claim on the title, citing Hastings abandoned his estate, even if he wasn’t deceased.

His claim was summarily denied on the basis of bloodline. ”

Zeke sat back. “So James assumes he’ll inherit. Finds out he’s not only been beat out by a dead man, but prohibited from inheriting.” He drummed his fingers on the scarred wooden table. “Theories?”

Caden shrugged. “Maybe James planned to act the part indefinitely. Hoped no one would notice?”

Zeke shook his head. “He’s too crafty for that. He’d have to know he’d be found out sooner or later. No. He had an ace up his sleeve.”

“Maybe James filed a petition with the queen? Maybe he’s expecting his claim to come through any time?” Randall surmised.

“I could see that being relevant before Hastings showed up. But now James is bartering his supposed title with Hastings, the legitimate heir, in exchange for Kitty’s hand. It makes no sense. We’re missing something. Something vital.”

Time to break down what he knew. Take each individual fact to its logical conclusion. He held up one thumb. “First off, Hastings clearly does not know he still holds right to the title, or he wouldn’t be wasting time placating James by dangling Kitty under the cove’s nose.”

“Agreed,” Caden murmured.

His pointer finger joined his thumb. “Second, clearly Kitty hasn’t a clue, or she wouldn’t have agreed to marry her cousin for her brother’s sake.”

“I still can’t believe she has,” Randall muttered.

“Zeke’s not going to let that happen. Are you, brother?” Caden asked in a deadly soft voice.

Zeke slid a hard gaze to his brother in answer and lifted a third finger. “Which leaves James knowingly bartering a nonexistent title for Kitty. The bastard is bloody obsessed with her—so much so he produced a phony writ summoning him to parliament, then waved the damned forgery under our noses.”

Caden knocked a fist against the table. “But why? Why would James want to make anyone believe he held the title? What would he gain?”