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Are you all right?"
    He felt vaguely ill as he reached the door, but that meant the worst of it was over. His skin seemed too tight across his bones, and he felt a hundred years old. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door. "I'm fine," he grunted, gazing into his oldest brother's concerned face.
    "May I come in?"
    "No."
    "You look like hell."
    "I'm aware of that."
    Tristan's lips tightened. "Shaw told me about his offer."
    Dread welled through him. God, he couldn't go through it again. Not so soon. "And you think I should go?" he forced out.
    "No, I think Shaw's an idiot, and that's what I told him."
    "Good."
    The viscount stood silent for a moment. "I wish you would talk to me," he finally said in a low voice. "I want to do… something, to help you."
    Robert backed up half a step, his hand clenching the door. "I'm trying, you know," he whispered, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he spoke aloud.
    "I know. Anything you need, anything or anyone you want, and I'll get it for you."
    "I don't need—"
    "You know what I've been thinking?" Tristan cut in.
    "What?" he asked, mostly because he wasn't quite ready to face either the dark, empty room or the rest of his family downstairs.
    "I think you need a hobby. No, I know you read, and I… know Tolley seems fairly well exercised. I'm not talking about embroidery or anything. In fact, I don't know what. Just something small, to start with. Something to—"
    "To occupy me," Robert finished.
    "Don't be angry. I'm—"
    "I'm not angry." He took another breath. "You may be right."
    "I… I am? I almost never hear that, you know. Make sure you tell Georgie. She'll be amazed."
    The surprise and relief on Tristan's face made Robert feel guilty, and he forced a smile. With another glance behind him, he shoved the door open and emerged into the hallway. "I don't suppose you've held dinner for me?"
    "That's why I'm up here. The Runt's threatening to eat his utensils."
    Robert lifted an eyebrow. "You didn't have to wait."
    "Yes, we did. But don't worry about it."
    Downstairs in the dining room he kept his eyes lowered as he took his seat. They'd all be looking at his face, worrying about him and trying to think of something to say that would be encouraging. Shaw would be angry, both at himself and at Robert, because after all, he hadn't done anything but offer his younger brother a chance at a second career.
    "Evie and Saint have invited all of us to dinner on Saturday," Georgiana said into the silence.
    "Do you mean all of us, or all of the grown-ups?" Edward asked.
    " 'All of us, my dear. Just us, and Luce and the general, and Lord Geoffrey Newcombe."
    "Oh, I like Lord Geoffrey," the Runt said. "He tells very good stories. And he knows Wellington."
    "So does Saint," Bradshaw countered.
    Robert could feel the various glances in his direction, waiting to see whether he meant to participate. He kept his head down and ate. He didn't have to say anything; in a moment someone would change the subject on his behalf, and they'd go on chatting without him. That was the procedure, and everyone knew it.
    "Bit, do you know Wellington?"
    Everyone knew it, that was, except for Edward. Robert wanted to ignore the question, but that would mean ignoring the Runt, and then soon Edward would stop talking to him, and then the last ounce of sanity would be gone from his life.
    "I saw him riding about," he said, "and we shared a whiskey once, but not much more than that."
    "Why did you share a whiskey?" the youngest Carroway pursued, bouncing in his seat.
    "Because I had a bottle, and it was snowing, and he asked for a drink before he froze off his balls."
    "Wellington said 'balls'?"
    "Edward!" Georgiana squeaked.
    "Bit said it first!"
    Shaw began coughing into his napkin, while Dawkins, the butler, abruptly spied something interesting to look at out the window. Robert glanced at Tristan and Georgie, who both looked amused.
    Robert wanted to close his eyes; after three hours of black horror and