"Now, please inform me of your reason for upsetting my household and shouting at Lady Amesbury," said Charles in a cold tone. He faced away from the man, waiting for a response and regretting the absence of his saber at his side. Henry had found his mother a chair and stood beside her now. Charles could tell she was upset.

"I am George Warwick of Thornton Abbey in Suffolk," Charles glanced at his mother who had covered her mouth with her hand in surprise. Thornton Abbey?

"I am seeking my ward, who has surely been persuaded to elope with yourself, Amesbury!" his volume raising with the accusation. Charles turned to face him, he wasn't a small man and he wasn't much older than John, but Charles recognized the glint of evil in the man's eye.

"I will not be accused in my own home, sir," Charles said again, that stone cold tone returning from his days at sea, "Who is your ward? And why would she come here?"

"Do you deny that there has been an understanding between yourself and Sarah Stanhope since childhood? She has likely been persuaded to elope with you or some such nonsense! I demand you return her at once!" Charles saw Henry's eyebrows shoot upwards from the corner of his eye, and his mother let out a terrible gasp.

Charles felt the blood pump through his veins harder and harder as his mind spun.

Sarah Stanhope, Richard's betrothed.

A memory, a thought, a question tugged in the back of his mind but he ignored it.

"If you are aware of the understanding between myself and Miss Stanhope, I wonder at you coming after her at all. A contractual betrothal from her parents would hold, no matter what a guardian may wish against it," Charles added with chilling pointedness as he leveled his gaze on Warwick who'd suddenly gone red. No matter that the contract was null and void upon Richard's death. Warwick clearly had the brothers confused.

"She is young and naive, sir! To be preyed upon by every kind of fortune hunter -"

"Fortune hunter?" Charles interrupted with pure derision.

"Yes - yes- well -Miss Stanhope is to inherit forty thousand pounds upon her twenty first birthday -"

"Or upon her marriage," Henry amended with a glance in Charles' direction.

"Let me relieve you of your concern in that regard," said Charles, "I have no need for a wealthy bride, my connection to Lady Sarah has nothing to do with her inheritance," he finished, and Henry's head snapped in his direction. Charles knew what he was about to say was foolish, but that memory, that question that he already knew the answer to was gnawing at him even now and he had to do something.

"What are you saying?" Warwick demanded, the red in his face nearly a glow now.

"I mean to assure you sure, that my wife, Lady Sarah Amesbury will be quite cared for," Charles stated in a clear hard tone. He couldn't look at the other two occupants of the room just then.

"I demand to see evidence of this union at once! Where is she now?" Warwick demanded, but his voice has lost some of its bluster.

"That," Charles growled through gritted teeth, "Is no longer your concern."

Silence hung in the room for several moments before Warwick let forth a stream of curses as he hurried from the room, down the corridor and just as quickly out the front door.

Charles walked to the door that had been left open to shut it again before turning back to face his mother and friend.

Lady Eleanor was crying, and Henry looked as if he were trying to decide if Charles had at last lost his mind. Charles was wondering that himself.

"Mother, please do not upset yourself," Charles said, searching for that gentleness she needed.

"But I cannot think of that beautiful little girl at the hands of such a man," Lady Eleanor mourned in a watery voice.

"I will find her, I promise you," Charles said, walking his path back the fireplace again.

"She was my dearest friend's only child," Eleanor seemed to be regaining control of her emotions, "I have neglected that connection terribly since Richard's death. I should have looked for her, I should've brought her here to live with us."

"He wants her money, Mother," said Charles, suddenly weary to his soul, "Warwick never would have relinquished her."

"And when he discovers you are not married?" Henry said in a quiet, even tone.

"Then I shall probably need a second," Charles shot back at him, but Henry did not laugh.

"Promise me you will find her, and you will protect her - marry her if you have to," Lady Eleanor stood and came to stand in front of him with her hands outstretched.

"She may not have me, Mother," Charles reminded her grimly, but then, "I promise to find Miss Stanhope and see that she is safe," he swore. Lady Eleanor took heart at this, but Henry's only response was an eerily perceptive stare.

"I must go and prepare for our hunting excursion," Charles added before leaving the room.

He couldn't think straight, and he hated the way Henry was looking at him just then. A noise drew his eyes to the staircase, where he spotted a flash of a maid's dress and golden hair. Suddenly his gut hurt, and the only he wanted was to leave the house.