Truly Yours

Chapter Twenty-six

Rex woke up dead, looking down at his body. Twice. That is, there were two of him watching. He shook his head, which was a mistake. Satan's blacksmith started hammering, with Rex's skull as his anvil. Rex raised his hand to his temple, another mistake. A huge bandage covered most of his head, with a huge pain under it. Then another hand raised a glass to his lips.

"Here, drink. It might help."

Now there was one of himself hovering over the bed. "Am I dead?"

"Not yet. Badly concussed, though."

The voice was familiar, but not his. The hand holding the cup was not his, either. Rex tried to focus his eyes for a better look. This was his bedroom at Royce House, all right. The stranger had his own black hair, the same black-rimmed blue eyes, but no uniform. His clothes were well tailored, his boots highly polished. He was older, a bit heavier, but he was enough like Rex to be his-

"Bloody hell, you are the 'obligation' my father had all those years."

The man bowed slightly and frowned. "I generally prefer 'connection' to 'obligation.' Lord Royce owed me nothing, but has been generous beyond measure. Few men in his position would have been as openhanded, or as kind. You are lucky to have him."

Rex had to concentrate to keep the "connection" from splitting into two. Damn, one of his father's bastards was bad enough. "But who? How?"

"You can call me Harry."

"Like the Devil after all."

Harry laughed. "Others have noted the similarity."

If Rex's head hadn't been spinning, it was caught in a tornado now. Then something else occurred to him. "Great gods! You are here, in my mother's house! If this does not upset her digestion again, nothing will."

"I admit it is an awkward situation."

Hell, being at Royce House was awkward for Rex, and the countess was his own mother. If his wits had not been scrambled he might make sense of things, or at least know what questions to ask first. The first one of forty that popped into his addled brain was: "Yours?"

The stranger sat back down in the chair by Rex's bedside, as if he had been there a while and intended to stay. "My mother passed on long ago. She was a dancer, a beauty, they say, and nothing but a young man's fancy. An unmarried man, I must add. When she died, your father, my father, took responsibility and found a wonderful family to raise me. I've had a fine education, entree to places no opera dancer's son could expect, and exceptional career opportunities, all thanks to Lord Royce."

"Can you…? That is, do you…? Botheration. I do not believe you are my father's son."

Harry made a face as if he had tasted something rancid, which should have answered Rex's unspoken question. "You know I spoke truly, but I suppose you wish to test my skills. Yes, I can taste the truth. It is uncomfortable at dinner parties, but I cherish the gift as part of my heritage, another gift from my sire."

Rex's head was aching, and he knew he had more important facts to gather, but he had to know: "Then you do not find it a burden?"

"A burden, when I can help save civilization, or some such rubbish? I know I can make my little corner of it a better place. What could be more gratifying? I'll admit I find the necessary secrecy a strain, but then again, I also hide my true birth. Strange, is it not, a family so tied to the truth, hiding it from the rest of the world?"

Rex could not think straight enough to untangle that knot. He stayed on the topic that had gnawed at him for all of his life. "You do not resent being different from everyone else?"

"I feel I am repaying my debts for the chances I have been given. I can accomplish much that is worthwhile, things few others can do. I know you were invaluable to the army. Don't you find that gratifying?"

Rex recalled his military career, sifting through information to find the real facts so the generals could plan their strategies, saving soldiers' lives. Then he thought of his work with Inspector Dimm, preventing crime by ridding London of so many guilty criminals. "Yes, I suppose some good can come of it. Do you mind the other?"

"Hiding the true tale of my birth? That is the way of the world, I regret to say. By-blows are outcasts in our society, so, no, I do not repine on what I had no hand in. Or do you mean do I mind not being in line for the earldom? Not having to attend Parliament, not being responsible for legions of dependents, not supposed to produce the heir? Hell, no. Besides, I never expected to be the earl's heir. You were born Rexford, in the bed where generations of Royce heirs saw their first dawn. I was born in a boarding-house, on the wrong side of the blanket."

"Then you always knew? Your adopted family told you?"

"They did not need to. I was four when I came to them. Recall, I could tell when I heard the truth or a lie. Tasting sour lemons every time your new father called you 'son' was a bitter lesson, soon learned. And the earl was a frequent visitor. Our appearance was too similar to be accidental." Harry stood up again and brought the glass back to Rex's lips, changing the subject. "Here, they said you need to keep drinking."

Rex sipped carefully, trying not to move his head, which was more painful than thinking.

A bastard, a brother. Blazes!

Rex could not begin to absorb all he'd heard, not with the din in his skull. Which reminded him of his own circumstances. "How did I get here? I don't recall anything of what happened after seeing someone hurl a brick at me."

"Your dog started howling like all the hounds of hell, thank goodness. Half the residents of the neighborhood closed their shutters and hid at the noise, but others came running, some of them the men you hired. They found a hackney and got you here, just in time, the surgeon said."

"Verity, she is all right?" Rex did not dare raise his head to look for the mastiff.

"Fine, except for a stitch or two. The surgeon who attended you was not willing to do the sewing at first, but your mother quickly set him straight."

Rex could imagine. It would take a brave man indeed to disobey the countess's orders.

"The hero of the day is in the kitchen right now, being pampered and fussed over and fed the dinner you won't feel like eating. The dog, of course, not the surgeon."

The very mention of eating made Rex's stomach clench, and also reminded him of his cousin. He had to tell Daniel to be extra alert. "My cousin?"

"Mr. Daniel Stamfield, if that is who you mean, is out bashing heads. He was furious that you'd gone out without him, and feeling guilty that you'd been accosted, so he decided to revenge himself on the denizens of the neighborhood where you were attacked. Your friend Dimm is with him, at least, so I suppose he will not be arrested. I believe Stamfield's mayhem is masquerading as a search for your assailant."

"Daniel takes his guard dog role too seriously." Rex knew he'd shoot anyone who harmed Daniel, so he could not fault his cousin for going off in a berserker rage, except that it was a vain effort. "He'll never find the man, and I could not help identify him, either. I did not get a good look at him, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that hid his face."

"Ah, but he should be easy enough to find if Daniel and Dimm are quick enough. A trail of blood led away from where you were found, not the pool of red you were lying in. We assume the dog went after the brick thrower. That's how she came to be hurt. How many men are out there with tooth marks on them? Someone will know who needed stitches or who wears a bandage."

That made sense, and Daniel would find the man if anyone could. Rex hoped Dimm kept him from killing the dastard long enough to discover who had hired the attack. Other than worrying about the name of his enemy, Rex could not wait to tell Daniel about their new relation.

"I say, can I mention you to my cousin? He'd never bandy your birth about, you know. I trust him with my life."

"He already knows. He'd heard rumors, you see, in Town. It's my eyes, I suppose. I try to keep out of the public sight, but what's a man to do? One look was enough to bring the pieces of the puzzle together for him."

"And he never told me the rumors? That rotter." Rex thought he would not have been so shocked if he'd been warned. A brother, damn, and a gentleman, it appeared. He still was not used to the idea. "What about you? Where did you come in?"

"Your mother sent for me. No, don't try to shake your head in disbelief. You are supposed to stay still. Lady Royce got the notion that someone tried to kill you in particular, that it was not a random robbery. You still had your money and your watch. Of course the dog might have frightened a cutpurse off before he could grab anything. On the other hand, the animal could have gone for an assassin's throat when he tried to finish you off."

Rex was certain it was a murder attempt. "I'd been warned." And he'd ignored the warnings, damn it. "But what can you do?"

Harry smiled. "Remember, I am not a gentleman. I can speak to people who will never talk to you. I know my way around London's underside, and have connections in all walks of life. Furthermore, your mother called for me because time is running out."

"I thought you said I wasn't dying."

"No, you are not, and you are regaining your wits nicely, too. The surgeon held out no guarantee that you would, you understand, after such a blow to the head."

Rex did not want to think of the possibilities. He was alive and somewhat coherent, unless he was imagining this whole bit about his father's butter stamp. The pain in his head was proof enough that he was not dreaming. "You said time was passing?"

"You have been in a coma for two days. Turlowe heard of your, ah, injury and he is trying to move Miss Carville's court date closer."

Rex tried to jump out of bed, and almost lost consciousness from the dizziness and the agony. Now he had two brothers looking at him again, this time in concern.

"Steady on, lad. They cannot give you laudanum for the pain, not with a head wound. You'll do better lying still."

Rex couldn't do anything else. He hoped his new relative did not see the dampness in his eyes. "Lud, I am helpless. What am I going to do?"

"Well, none of us think there is much you can do, right now, or for the next few days at least. So Lady Royce sent for the earl. He is on his way."

Rex stared at the ceiling, trying to make the room stop spinning. "Now I am certain I am dead and hell has frozen over."

Harry laughed. "Not quite. And I am here to help meanwhile. The countess even let me sit with you while she slept. Your old nursemaid had to be put to bed herself, from the shock of seeing you carried into the house."

Rex tried to think. He did not know this man, could not rely on him, a stranger with the same blood running through his veins, but a stranger for all that. "If you would, please send word to a man called the Aide. Have you heard of him?"

The man's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Everyone has."

"He is a smoky fellow, but he can help. The man has his fingers on the pulse of civilization, it seems."

The smile grew broader. "He will get the message, I swear."

Rex believed him, as he saw a wash of blue through the veil of pain. He tried to lift his hand to shake his new relation's, then let his drop to the mattress when he could not get it past his shoulder.

"I owe you."

Harry tucked the blankets up. "Not at all. I always wanted a brother."

"Did you know I existed?"

"Almost from the day you were born. The earl was so happy, so proud. And he did not want me to hear the news through the grapevine."

"But he did not care if I did?" Then Rex grew more upset. "Why did you not come find me? I wanted a brother, too, someone who could answer questions."

"You were an infant, my boy. Later, our father was convinced that you would be embarrassed. I think he did not want to admit to a youthful indiscretion. Your mother, well, she did not want to acknowledge me at all."

"They were wrong."

"I think so, too. We'll make up for the lost years as soon as you are well."

"And you will look after Amanda for me now?"

"Of course."

He spoke too readily for Rex's comfort. "I say, are you married?"

"No, I have not found the right woman yet. You know, one who will understand our, ah, idiosyncracies."

Both of them thought of their father and his wife. Rex said, "You wouldn't want to live with a woman who did not accept what you are."

"No, but it appears you have found a treasure who just might do. Judging from her tears, she's fond enough of you to accept anything."

Rex was not going to discuss his feelings toward Amanda and marriage, not with a man he had met twenty minutes ago. "I am not sure yet."

"Well, I better be going in case you decide, to make sure you can have the bride you want, if you want." He headed toward the door.

Rex stopped him. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Truly."

Harry smiled. "What are brothers for?"