Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(44)

“A what?”

Randolph waved a hand. “Robert called it that. His exact phrase was a quixotic quest. Rather good, eh? A neat alliteration…” Under Sebastian’s uncomprehending gaze, he added, “There’s a girl involved.”

Wasn’t there always? Sebastian thought. “That’s quick work. James has only been home a few weeks.”

“She apparently followed him here from an island in the antipodes. Tried to shoot him at a garden party of Alan’s.” Sebastian stared. His brother grinned at him, not above enjoying his astonishment. “She missed. It seems she thought he’d stolen something from her home.”

“Stolen?”

“All a misunderstanding, I believe.”

“And they’re at me about a few days away,” Sebastian muttered.

“Only to help.” Randolph leaned back as if signaling the end of the conversation, then dropped a bombshell. “Mama thought of coming up here herself, you know. She and Papa, that is.”

Sebastian froze in place at the idea. He could almost hear his father’s kindly, ironic comments on his conduct, feel his mother’s lovingly questioning gaze. He wanted everything perfectly arranged before they arrived at Stane, so all that occurred was a wedding as smooth as Nathaniel’s. Without the wolf skin, he noted to himself. How could he ensure that his brothers had no scope for pranks?

“But then they discovered that Nathaniel is driving in some mad carriage race. They went to Brighton to see about that instead.”

“A race? Nathaniel?” This didn’t sound like his eldest brother. Their father’s heir was levelheaded and decorous and a model for them all.

“Odd, isn’t it? They don’t seem to think he’s run mad, however.” Randolph shook his head dubiously. “Even though I told them that he wrote to ask if bishops are distinguished by their markings, like waterfowl. All I did was mention that he’d found me quite the wrong sort of bishop.”

“What?” Sebastian gaped at him. “Did you say waterfowl?”

“That is ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“What sort of bishop did you want? What for?” It occurred to Sebastian that a clergyman might have some arcane use for a bishop. Now and then, he forgot—for a moment—that Randolph was a man of the cloth. He’d been just a brother for so much longer.

“Never mind,” said Randolph. “Perhaps it’s the effect of marriage. Nathaniel seems to have been altered. Having been altared.” He smiled, enjoying the sound of his own words. “Do you think tying the knot makes you quite a different person?”

“No.” Sebastian expected his wedding to solve all his current problems. He didn’t foresee new ones.

His brother shrugged. “At any rate, my point is that you might want to be grateful it’s me who came.” He smiled.

It was a warm, affectionate smile. It reminded Sebastian of countless summer afternoon expeditions at Langford. Of Randolph helping him as he struggled to memorize Latin tags. Of their mingled tears at the death of an aged dog who had joined the household when they were five and three. He was suddenly filled with fondness for his brother, even his overenthusiastic bits.

Then Randolph diverted him by adding, “And I understand religion is involved.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Sebastian, certain he was on firm ground there.

“I thought there was a Hindu gentleman in residence.”

“There is, but…”

“A very interesting twist,” Randolph said.

“It isn’t a twist. He’s just another guest here. Nothing to do with my affairs.”

“An interesting opportunity, then. I haven’t had the chance to learn anything of Hindu theology.”

Sebastian sighed. There was no doubt that the after-dinner conversations at Stane were destined to become longer and more confusing. At least the marquess would be pleased. Georgina’s father preferred an attentive audience.

Randolph stood and went over to open his case, exposing neatly packed clothes. “I haven’t brought a servant. Perhaps Sykes could help me out now and then?”

“Of course.” Sebastian rose as well. “You should tell him about the bishops.” The curious linking of churchmen and waterfowl was just the sort of oddity Sykes relished. He’d probably even understand it.

“Tell your valet?”

“Never mind.” He sometimes slipped and forgot that no one else knew about Sykes’s true nature.

Randolph clapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “It’s good to see you, Sebastian. We scarcely had time to talk at Nathaniel’s wedding. Have no fear, we’ll soon set everything straight.”

Sebastian wanted to believe him. But so far, everything had shown a distressing propensity to go wrong.

The Stane family and their guests gathered in the great hall before dinner that evening, as was their invariable custom. “Randolph’s even handsomer than Sebastian,” Emma whispered to Georgina as the brothers descended the stairs together.

Georgina had to admit that Emma was right. All the sons of the Duke of Langford were attractive men, but in Randolph all the elements that characterized them—tall athletic frame, auburn hair, classic features—had combined with particular harmony. Standing beside his brother, he looked a bit like a finished portrait next to a preliminary study.