‘That is unfortunate. Did he say what is troubling him?’ He took a sip of his coffee to hide the smile that was about to spread across his face at the very notion his wife would not be continuing that bloody portrait session.
Shaking her head, Olivia leaned close enough that he could smell her honeysuckle perfume. ‘I am certain this pleases you immensely,’ she said for only his ears.
‘I would not wish ill on Mr West. You should know that.’
Olivia leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes. She took a sip of her chocolate and her soft pink tongue slipped out to lick her lip. It was almost impossible for Gabriel to hold back a sigh of yearning.
Andrew shifted in his seat, taking Gabriel’s attention away from Olivia’s lips. Prinny’s safety was his priority. Why was he having difficulty remembering that? ‘I have appointments today, Andrew. What say you we go for that ride now?’
Andrew gulped down the remainder of his coffee before he tossed his napkin on the table. ‘Excellent. Thank you for breakfast, Olivia.’
Nicholas stuck out his lower lip. ‘You’re leaving already, Uncle Andrew?’
‘I’m afraid so. However, I’d venture to say you will see me again.’ He ruffled Nicholas’s hair as he walked past him.
Gabriel crouched next to his son and Nicholas gave him a tight hug. ‘I rather like having breakfast with you, Papa,’ he said, releasing his hold.
And Gabriel realised how much he rather liked having breakfast with his wife and son. It was an improvement from eating alone, reviewing paperwork. Without thinking, he kissed Olivia on the forehead on his way to the door.
Why was everyone riding so slowly down Piccadilly at this hour? Even Gabriel’s horse was pitching forward, trying to poke his nose past all the slow goers. If they did not arrive at the park soon Gabriel feared he would no longer possess any patience at all. In the meantime he continued to scowl at every driver, rider, merchant and pedestrian he saw.
When they finally turned into the park, they steered their horses sedately onto Rotten Row. At this hour, the only people on the bridle path were a few servants exercising horses some distance ahead. Finally, he would get some answers.
‘Tell me what brought you to my door.’
Andrew guided his horse closer to Gabriel’s. ‘You will not be pleased.’
‘Is that meant to soften the blow?’
‘Mr Clarke is dead.’
Gabriel’s blood ran cold as he jerked the reins to hold his ground. ‘Care to explain?’
‘Dead. I think that just about explains it.’
‘I beg to differ. How in the bloody hell is the man dead when he is being hidden away in the Tower under lock and key? No one was to be informed he was there.’
Andrew rubbed his lips together. ‘We were all shocked by the news. He was alive last night when they brought him his food. Hours later they found him dead on the floor.’
‘Poison?’
‘It appears so. We have questioned everyone involved and have no leads. It’s as if some spectre appeared and disappeared just as mysteriously.’
‘Then no one involved in holding him and the interrogations can be trusted. Perhaps this is why they have been unable to uncover any tangible leads. Say nothing of what we suspect and keep me apprised of anything suspicious.’
‘Of course.’
‘From this moment forward, finding out who wants Prinny dead falls solely on our shoulders. We must make certain he is not harmed. I do not know how much longer I can keep him safe inside Carlton House. Each day he becomes more and more restless. He is like a child and I cannot force him to follow my directions. I only wish he were not so trusting.’
Gabriel went to turn Homer around when his brother stopped him.
‘We are not finished,’ Andrew said. ‘I believe there is one more thing that requires discussion.’
What more could they have to discuss?
‘You are honestly not about to acknowledge that ideal family portrait I just witnessed? I believe an explanation is in order.’
Gabriel did not agree. Pulling the brim of his beaver hat low over his forehead, he shaded his eyes from the sunlight filtering through the branches above them. ‘Olivia and I are attempting a reconciliation of sorts.’
‘Of sorts?’
‘Yes.’
When Andrew raised an expectant brow, Gabriel let out a sigh.
‘You did not arrive at my doorstep so early to discuss the state of my marriage.’
‘No, I did not, but after that unusual display, I find myself too intrigued not to. Now why is it normally you barely speak to her, the other night at dinner she was throwing daggers at you with her eyes and today you are kissing her goodbye? And please note, I am not even mentioning the entertaining information which Nicholas kindly provided.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Women always are.’
Andrew had no idea. ‘Olivia and I would like to have another child.’
‘Well, it’s about time.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘You know it is best for you to have more boys for the ducal line. Don’t count on any of us to help you fulfil your obligation. Michael broods too much. No woman would ever want to marry him. And by the time Monty is old enough and finds a woman who can ignore his exasperating nature, you will be long dead.’
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Andrew. ‘Skeffington is in his dotage. When he gives up the ghost, I am certain his Duchess would be more than happy to lower herself to marry you. In fact, it would not surprise me if she attempted to pull you behind a tree while he was being lowered into his grave.’
Andrew visibly shuddered. ‘Do not even jest. That woman is becoming more and more difficult to avoid. But we are getting away from our discussion of you and Olivia.’
‘No, that discussion is over. I told you why this morning’s events were a bit unusual.’
‘A bit? I would say the events I witnessed were monumentally unusual.’
Gabriel could feel Andrew studying him and he kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead of them. He’d had a remarkable night with his wife. He did not need Andrew poking him with a stick to make him analyse what it meant.
‘Have you told her that you have always been faithful?’
He knew this would happen. ‘Of course I have not told her.’
‘She is your Duchess.’
‘It is not that simple. I would need to reveal everything to her. Our father never disclosed anything to Mother. To this day she does not know what we do and what responsibility he had. I put my trust in the wrong person once. I will not let it happen again.’
‘Olivia is not Uncle Peter and the situation is vastly different.’
‘Is it? Is it truly different? Tell me how?’
‘She is your wife.’
‘And he was our beloved uncle. A man I looked up to all my life, much as my son does you. I went to him for advice after Father died. I told him what