I was the oldest of his nephews, if not a precious Wylde, and I listened to him drone on about his blasted antiquities every now and then. Lord, how he could talk.”
Somehow, Edward’s manner always annoyed him. Alec was certain he knew that and did it on purpose. “Perhaps you thought it was a long wait for the legacy?”
His cousin laughed in his face. “Are you asking if I sneaked out after Uncle Henry and attacked him in the street? On the off chance he meant to leave me something? Really, Alec! I’d no idea you had such an active imagination.”
Alec, watching him, could see only amusement in his face. Everything was amusing to Edward. He didn’t seem to care a great deal about anything.
“It would have been a fine joke on me if I had, eh?” He shook his head. “A museum! Only Uncle Henry could imagine that anyone would want to come and see his musty old bits.”
“Which turned out to be fakes, practically worthless.” Alec tried to peer beneath his cousin’s smooth surface, without success.
“Really? So if he had left them to me, I’d have been disappointed. Particularly if I’d killed him for them. Fortunate thing I didn’t.”
“Indeed.”
Edward laughed again. “A fine joke on him, though. He spoke about that rubbish as if it were a king’s ransom. The old fellow must be writhing in his grave.” His cousin leaned back, crossed his leg over a knee. “The thing I can’t believe is that he got Charlotte to marry him. Where did he find her?”
Like his mother, though not as actively, Edward gathered bits of gossip. Alec didn’t want to answer, but he had no real excuse to refuse. “He corresponded with her father. They met at Bath, where her father often went for his health.”
“Bath? What was Uncle Henry doing at Bath? Ah, he went there to snag Charlotte, I suppose. Can’t blame him. Taking little thing. And well endowed.”
Alec couldn’t help stiffening. He saw Edward notice it with a sly smile.
“Dowried, I mean. She says he spent a tidy sum that was hers.”
“Indeed,” was all Alec could find to reply. Again.
“Pretty now that she’s better dressed,” Edward insinuated. “A lovely package altogether. Did you find her so when she was staying at your house?”
He used that tone to goad him. Alec knew it, and still his muscles tightened further. “Did Uncle Henry ever say anything to you that would help solve his murder?”
Edward looked at him with half-lidded eyes, like a cat who was considering whether to continue tormenting an unresponsive mouse. Finally, he shrugged. “Good God, I never listened to him, Alec. Couldn’t bear it. All that tedium, and he let me charge the wine he drank to my tab. Aren’t uncles supposed to treat you?”
Why had he expected anything from Edward, Alec wondered? His cousin thought only of himself.
“Although… he did say something rather odd a few months ago.”
“What?”
“He offered me some advice.” Edward raised his eyebrows at the absurdity of the notion. “Told me never to rely on people, no matter how long I’d known them or what the relationship might be. No one could be trusted.”
“That’s all?”
Edward nodded.
“Had he been talking about antiquities dealers? Perhaps he’d discovered some deception?”
Edward frowned, then shrugged again. “No idea. I told you, I couldn’t listen to him for more than a minute. Had to think of something else or go mad.”
Alec tried other questions, but Edward remembered nothing useful. When he began to twit Alec about turning up at parties when Charlotte was in attendance, Alec took his leave.
He returned to a house that felt rather empty. Anne was out at a dancing class, Lizzy on a visit arranged by Aunt Earnton, Frances somewhere, elsewhere. For him, there were the piles of paper on his desk and the frustration of a wasted morning.
***
Lady Isabella had invited Charlotte to accompany her on a round of morning calls, to “extend her education” in the ways of society. Charlotte had accepted out of politeness and gratitude, and curiosity. Lady Isabella’s kindness to her had been such that she would do whatever she asked. And she was interested in seeing the haut ton in all its aspects. However, as the morning wore away, it seemed that the visits were chiefly designed to gather and distribute bits of gossip. Stories heard at one house were retold at the next, in exchange for other tales that could be carried on to a further drawing room. She soon noticed that those who