He nodded off and woke when the Seth Thomas chimed in the hallway. Half past five. Their usual teatime had long passed. He went in search of his brother, thinking Robert would be in the study working on parish business, but when he knocked on the door and received no answer, he opened it and peeked inside. The room was empty.
Leslie was about to don his coat and hat for the short walk over to St. Michael’s when he heard the latch on the front door click open then close and footsteps on the hardwood floor. His brother came into the parlor, his eyes red-rimmed and tears dotting his cheeks.
“Where the hell have you been?” Leslie asked. “Where’s Mrs. Crowe? I’ve been looking all over the place for—”
Robert held up his hand and made straight for the drinks table. He poured himself a large tumbler of scotch and then went to stand by the hearth.