Chapter Thirty-Two
Alfred’s head ached as he pulled out a tin of watercolors. Very little was going the way he’d hoped. Mathias hadn’t appeared at breakfast for over a week, making excuses to Mrs. Poplar that he wasn’t well and that he’d needed to study in the evenings. Alfred had been in a dreadful mood and made for poor conversation at nearly every meal, while John had seemed to make an effort to be at the table every morning in the happiest mood he could conjure. But Alfred had awoken too irritable to sit through another meal with the man and had taken off to Hilary’s as soon as the sun had risen.
He pulled a copper mug off the shelf and started down the hall. Hilary’s house was enormous by anyone’s standards, and, despite having spent more hours in the study than he could count, Alfr
