Chapter 22: A Tomorrow

On the first morning of the rest of his life, the Duke of Dauntrey slept until ten.

Corwin stood at the foot of the bed with the breakfast tray for fifteen minutes and did not wake him.

When Leander opened his eyes at last, he lay there looking at the canopy.

"What time is it?"

"Ten past ten, my lord."

"I've never slept past six."

"I know."

"Nobody woke me."

"No."

Leander turned his head on the pillow.

His face was soft and puzzled and about sixteen years old.

"What do I do?"

"There's tea," Corwin said.

"One sugar, if you want it."

"I don't take sugar."

"You could."

Leander considered this for a long moment, with great seriousness.

"One sugar," he said.

Corwin put it in.

Leander drank the tea sitting up in bed with the tray on his knees, and after the first sip his whole face changed.

"That is revolting," he said, delighted.

"Do it again tomorrow."

Corwin laughed so hard he had to put down the pot.

By noon he had planned the day.

No ledgers, no counting, no east road, no palace.

Breakfast in bed.

A late walk in the garden.

A slice of the cook's pie, which she had left on the kitchen table with a note in a hand that shook.

At the door of the kitchen the housekeeper was waiting.

She looked ten years older than she had on the day of the writ.

She held out her hands, empty, and went down on her knees on the flagstones before the duke.

"Your Grace," she said.

"It was me."

Leander stood very still.

"My son's debts were bought up by Lord Hadrian two years ago.

"He said they would go away if I told him what went on in the house.

"I told him about the knife.

"I told him you talked in your sleep.

"I never knew about the poison.

"I swear it on my son's life."

She began to cry again, without noise.

"I stood in that court and said what I'd said, and I wanted the floor to take me."

Leander looked at her for a moment.

Then he went down on one knee in front of her, quite simply, and took her hands.

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