Chapter THIRTY
This time the letter from Collin was even shorter. It had been scrawled on a bit of dirty parchment his brother had obviously scrounged up somewhere. Collin must be in a very rough place indeed.
I found Adam. He’s hurt but will survive. Bringing him home. No sign of Rafe and Swifdon. They were captured by the French. Adam managed to escape. Derek, it doesn’t look good for them.
Derek slammed his open palm against his desk. Damn it all to hell. It seemed they would be having a double funeral for the Swift brothers. How would he ever tell Swift’s mother? His sister, Daphne? God. That conversation would be one of the most difficult of his life. It didn’t sound as if Penelope, Swift’s intended, much cared, but Daphne and Louisa Swift would be devastated.
Adam was alive. That was the only comfort Derek had. Though it felt wrong to be glad over that news when the news for the Swift family was so dire. Not to mention Rafe. His relatives would need to be found and told as well. The lad had been a reckless hellion but a braver young man, Derek had never known. Wellington and the War Office would try to send a man to tell the families but Derek would stop them. He would make the journeys himself. He would be the one to tell Louisa and Daphne and Cavendish’s family. They would not be informed by some nameless drone from the War Office.
Adam was safe. Derek closed his eyes and repeated that to himself. At least his mother would have the comfort of knowing her three boys were alive. She’d been so worried about Derek going to war—and when Adam and Collin had announced their intentions of working for the War Office, she’d been beside herself. But she knew she couldn’t keep her adult sons for doing what they would. She’d resigned herself to praying for them and waiting for the mail to bring any news. Derek would write to her immediately. He could tell from the state of the missive Collin had sent that that his brother wasn’t in a position to write to their mother in Brighton at their family home. He’d asked her to come to London and stay with him, but she’d insisted on staying near the shore until she heard the fate of her sons. Perhaps now she’d make the journey into town and live the life that would be afforded to her as the mother of a duke. That was some small comfort.
Derek rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. He had nothing to do for the moment but get back to the business of courting Lady Cassandra. And he should be pleased by his progress on that score. Last night she’d told him she would entertain his courtship. Finally. This is what he’d been waiting for. Why didn’t it feel like a victory?