Remember Then

XXXI. The Leaguer

Ysabella's husband, William Hayward, the Lord of Wakefield had one brother—Thomas Hayward, the Lord of Bertram. That was all that Nicholas knew of the man for they never had a chance to be chummy.

He met the man merely on very rare occasions, the longest being Ysabella and Wakefield's wedding. On the rare occasions he was in Wickhurst he was with his mother, Lady Hayward, taking her to the opera or shopping. He never went with the woman during family dinners or tea parties in the Everard estate, a very common occurrence since Lady Alice and Lady Hayward became very good friends due to the union of their children. Although Ysabella saw the man with high regard, the rest of her siblings could simply not do so.

There were countless reasons why Thomas was never part of the circles Wakefield was a part of, one of them was the obvious fact that both brothers never liked each other. Many believed that the only thing that bound the brothers together was their mother, Lady Hayward.

Thomas and Wakefield's interests were never the same, Thomas being the proper and responsible son who kept to himself and his estate and Wakefield being the rake before he married Ysabella.

So why the bloody hell was the man here in Puck with Ralph?

Studying Thomas as he climbed off his horse, assessing the serious look on his face, Nicholas could only assume one thing: the man was a bloody Leaguer.

The signs had always been there, but no one noticed it. The man kept to himself, secretive at best. But he managed to hide being a part of the League of Founders by being part of the society who cared naught about conspiracies but social standing, gossips and scandals. To the ton, Thomas Hayward was merely rich like many other lords and he was definitely a catch for many unmarried ladies. Apart from that, he was not seen as anything but.

But Nicholas did not care if the Lord of Bertram was a Leaguer. He was bloody concerned that his own brother took the man with him.

His jaw tightened, his hands balled into fists as he stood guard in the doorway. "Go and stand guard outside Sophia's chamber," he ordered the footman who immediately disappeared into the cottage.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of Ralph, eyes on Thomas. The man looked like he had missed many nights of sleep. His face was no longer the same as Nicholas remembered for instead of the fresh, clean look he always maintained, Thomas looked like he had traveled from the farthest corner of the Town to here in one day—running.

"He is here to—" Ralph started but Thomas stepped in front of Nicholas to say, "I am here because your sister thought it best."

The look he was giving Nicholas told Nicholas that he ought to know by now why he was here.

Suddenly the anger Nicholas felt brewing inside him morphed into something and changed direction—toward his own sister.

"She believes she is too emotionally invested in this case," Thomas added and Nicholas did not entirely believe him.

"You are not stepping inside this cottage, Bertram," he sternly said, taking one step away from the doorway to block the man's path. And to Ralph he addressed, "Give me one good reason not to kill you, Ralph."

His brother stepped closer. "He is not here to take her, Nick. I would not have brought him here if that were so."

Nicholas narrowed his eyes. "A Leaguer and a Guard is not a pair of visitors I could easily welcome into my cottage. You lot lie like the men you consider criminals."

Thomas sighed and threw Ralph a look of impatience. He did not believe Nicholas was making it easy and he did not have the time for this.

But this was Nicholas' home. Nicholas shook his head before he fixed Thomas a wry smile. "How is Miss Randolph, Thomas?"