Chapter Twenty
Oliver went to sleep to the sound of rain against the windowpanes—and woke in the morning to silence. He flung back Rhodes’s bedcovers, strode to the window, and jerked the curtains open.
Sunshine flooded into the room.
Oliver felt a surge of grim exultation. Today’s the day.
Someone knocked quietly on the door.
“Who is it?” he called.
“Monsieur Benoît.”
Oliver unlocked the door and opened it.
Benoît brought a ewer of steaming water with him. “How’s Thayne?” Oliver asked, as the valet set the ewer beside the washstand.
“He’s much improved, Your Grace.”
Oliver shaved and dressed hastily, then went next door to see for himself. He found Rhodes going through his wardrobe with Grimshaw.
“Your sleeves are an inch too short,” Rhodes told him.
“Your arms are an inch too
