the room. “I fear I bring you shocking news, Sir Alexander.” He shook his head, thin lips turned down. “Shocking.”
Alec came to his feet. “My brother?”
The snap of the words startled his visitor into taking a step back. “No, no, I know nothing of your brother. It is your uncle.”
“Lord Earnton?” Even as he said it, Alec knew that his aunt would send someone he knew to impart any significant news.
Seaton drew himself up. “Sir Alexander, I regret to tell you that your uncle, Henry Wylde, has been killed by footpads. In the very streets of London. Another outrageous example of the degradation of the lower classes. I blame the government…”
“Uncle Henry?” It felt odd even to call him that. For as long as Alec could remember, his father’s youngest brother had been practically a recluse. He never appeared at family gatherings or showed the least interest in any of his relations. Alec’s only real memory of him was nearly twenty years old—of a red-faced, cursing man who threatened him with a caning when he touched some dusty artifact in a case. He sank back into his chair. “Killed?”
“Murdered, sir, as he walked home from his club. I don’t know what this country is coming to when a gentleman cannot even…”
“And you have brought me word of this,” Alec interrupted.
“Naturally.”
“As a family member. I see. Thank you.”
The grizzled man stared at him. “As the executor of Mr. Wylde’s will.”
“I?”
Seaton pulled a thick document from his coat pocket. “He said you were the best of his idio… er… relations.”
In other circumstances, Alec might have been amused, but he was too much astonished. “I barely knew the man.”
Seaton nodded. “He mentioned that he was not in close touch with his family. Nonetheless, he wished these final matters to be handled by kin.”
And he had to choose me, Alec thought, but did not say. “Please sit down, Mr. Seaton.”
The man did so, placing the document on the edge of the desk. “As you know, Mr. Wylde was a… unique individual. And I must say his will is… eccentric.”
How could it be otherwise? Alec thought. He waited for the bad news that he was somehow sure was coming.
“The provision it makes for his wife is not what one would…”
“Wife? He wasn’t married.”
“Indeed he was, sir. Recently, in the last year.”
Alec tried to imagine the sort of woman who would marry his Uncle Henry—stout, pug-faced, sour, desperate, were the attributes that came to mind. He shook his head. “Eccentric in what way, exactly?”
“It might be better if you read the document yourself, sir.”
“I am asking you to summarize it for me.” His tone was meant to intimidate, and it did. Seaton looked quite cowed as he rose and scuttled toward the door. “Mr. Seaton!”
The small man gave a bow that was more like a flinch as he reached for the doorknob. “I have done my duty, Sir Alexander. Mr. Wylde was a most… difficult client.”
“And you are pleased to wash your hands of his affairs?”
The man’s expression was answer enough. He slipped out of the study; Alec strode after him. “Mr. Seaton!”
His visitor made for the front door. He had nearly reached it when the cat streaked out of the back hall, skidded on the marble floor with a rattle of claws, and careened toward the study. Alec hastily shut the door. Thwarted, the animal glared at him, spun, and sank its teeth into Ethan’s ankle.
“Callie!” called Lizzy’s voice from the rear premises.
With the look of a man escaping a madhouse, Seaton rushed out. Pain in every line of his handsome face, Ethan bent to extricate himself. Alec’s sister appeared through the swinging door at the back of the hall. “Callie, no!”
The cat loosed the footman.
“She is still a little angry with Ethan, I’m afraid,” said Lizzy, hurrying forward. Seeing her brother’s expression she added, “And a new place is so frightening at first, you know. Cats must learn their territory before they…”
“Her territory does not include the lower floors,” Alec said. “If you cannot keep this animal under control…”
Callie rolled onto her back, splayed her paws, and gazed at Lizzy with adoring yellow eyes. It was the finest impersonation of innocence Alec had ever seen, and netted him a look of deep reproach from his little sister. “Upstairs,” he insisted.
Pushing out her lower lip as if bending to the whims of a tyrant, Lizzy scooped up the cat and started up the steps. Callie watched Alec and Ethan from over her shoulder. It was