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“And I still do not care what you think.”

“And I still wish that you would keep your mouth shut, regardless of what you think.”

“And I still?—”

“Oh, will you just be quiet!” Frederick snapped at his best friend. “When I invited you in for a drink, I did not think you would spend the entire time pestering me.”

“Is that what I am doing?”

“Annoying me. Frustrating me. Driving me insane! Pick one.”

George frowned and considered as he took a sip of brandy. Smacked his lips. Took another sip. “So, that’s a no on the apology?”

Frederick groaned and ran a hand through his hair. George might have been the only person in the world who would risk arguing with and annoying him like this, knowing that he could do and say pretty much what he wanted without risking Frederick’s wrath, but even he was pushing it.

The man had turned up unannounced just thirty minutes ago, perfect timing as Frederick had just returned from London with Isabella. After the incident three days previously, he wished to show that he was sorry by giving her a day out—a day which she appreciated greatly.

Oh, how Frederick had appreciated it also. Although he did not tell her that he knew her secret, he was happy that she was willing to forget how he had yelled at her and let him treat her as her father again. They laughed all day. Enjoyed one another’s company in ways that reminded him of how things used to be. Shopping. Treats. Long walks through the park. It was a day well spent.

Deep down, Frederick had also hoped that she might finally open up to him and tell him the truth as she had Miss Dowding. He was her father, after all, so surely, she would want to do such a thing. Sadly, she had chosen not to, a fact which stung his pridea little more than he was willing to admit—especially seeing as she had told Miss Dowding without pause.

But he had lifted his punishment from her nonetheless, and when they returned home, he was happy to let her take a book outside and read without needing to be watched. That was when George arrived which saw the two men move to the drawing room for said drink.

It should have been a pleasant enough soiree, for he had not seen George in days, but George being George meant that such a thing was not possible. Not even close.

“And how does it feel?” George asked casually as he lounged on the couch, one arm spread over the back, his leg folded casually before him.

“How does what feel?” Frederick braced himself.

“Having to sneak around your own home like a mouse being chased by a persistent cat. It must be tiring.”

“I am sure I have no idea to what you are referring.”

George chuckled. “Oh? So you have not spent the last three days in hiding, then? My mistake.”

“Who have you been talking to?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“The easy way to solve this dilemma is to do what you should have days ago,” he continued as if Frederick hadn’t asked him a question. “Apologize and be done with it.”

“I will not apologize,” he growled in anger.

“Then extend an apologetic hand. You don’t need to say the words, just make it obvious that you are sorry.”

“But I am not sorry. Nor should I be.”

He snorted and took another sip of his brandy. “Is that what you think? You really do not understand women, do you?”

Frederick groaned. “Why on this God’s green earth do you even care, George? Tell me that.”

George shrugged. “Maybe it is you who I care about; did you think of that.”

“Doubtful.”

“You are clearly in a mood, more so than usual. And from what I can gather, this is the reason why.”

“The same reason you came to visit me, I am now beginning to wonder.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t to bask in the warmth of your company.”