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“As I am doing,” Diana said. “I suspect that in the next few days, Lord Herrod will come for me. And please, Evelyn...” She took her cousins hands and squeezed them as she looked pleadingly into her eyes. “Please, do not speak of what I told you. If Lord Herrod suspects I have told anyone, my mother especially...” She grimaced. “I will never forgive myself.”
Evelyn’s face was hardened and there was anger behind her eyes. The same stubbornness that Diana was known for, she feared for a moment that her cousin would not drop it. So, she continued to look pleadingly, begging her silently to do as asked.
“I do not like it,” Evelyn said finally. “But if it is as you wish... Oh, I just feel so horrible!”
“As do I,” Diana sighed. “As do I.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
“Another.” Magnus held the empty tumbler out for Theodore to take.
Theodore hesitated, eyeing the tumbler with clear concern. “I’m not one to tell a grown man how much he should drink, Magnus. But don’t you think that you’ve had enough?”
“That first instinct, I think you should stick with it,” Magnus growled. “Or do I need to pour one myself.”
“I worry that you would not be able to,” Theodore said. “Hence my concern.”
“I did not invite you here tonight for sympathy.”
“Which I am not giving. I am simply trying to save you from wasting expensive whiskey because from where I am seated, you are entirely too sloshed to enjoy it. Perhaps a glass of water will do you best?”
“Fine.” Magnus glared at his best friend and then prepared himself to stand. “If you are going to be pedantic about it, I shall fetch the drink myself.” Easier said than done.
The two men were in the drawing room of Magnus’ manor, seated by the fire, soaking in the warmth of the cackling flames as they tested the limits on how much one man could drink before he passed out cold. So far, as had been proven well and truly, the answer was more than either could have expected.
The room swayed as Magnus forced himself to stand. His knees buckled but he stayed on his feet, ignoring how the room turned as he stumbled toward the bar where the third bottle of whiskey from the night’s endeavors sat open. There, he snatched at it, missing it by several inches.
“A sign if I have ever seen one,” Theodore said. “Magnus, please, a break at the very least. Five minutes and we can start again.”
“Quite!” Magnus barked as he finally grabbed at the bottle of whiskey. “Or I shall send you home.”
“You may ask but I will ignore the request,” Theodore said. “To leave you in this state would make me not a very good friend. At the very least I need to remain to make sure that when you do pass out, you do not swallow your own tongue.”
“I am not as bad as that.” Magnus poured the whiskey, missing his tumbler at first, until he eventually found it.
“You are worse.”
“Careful, friend.” Magnus put the bottle down, took a large mouthful, and then stumbled back to the couch by the fire. “There are few who would dare speak to me as you are. And for good reason.”
“Is it because you make such rotten company?”
Magnus reached the couch but did not sit. He stood over it, glaring at his friend as if he meant to attack him. “It is because the last man who did so now has considerably less teeth.”
Theordore blew through his lips. “Oh, will you sit down already. You are embarrassing yourself. Ordinarily, I do not mind, but this is becoming sad.”
“That’s it!” Magnus stumbled back, caught his footing, and then looked for a place to put down his tumbler. He rested it on the mantle by the fire before turning back to face his best friend. “Up. Now.”
Theordore frowned. “Excuse me.”
“You heard me!” Magnus brought his fists before his face. “I said get up.”
“Careful, Magnus. Words are one thing, but some actions cannot be taken back.”
Magnus laughed. “A lesson I have learned only too well. Now, are you getting up, or do I need to drag you up by the collar.” He sneered down at his best friend, caring now for how he was behaving. Truly, Magnus was beyond the point of caring about anything.
The way he was behaving tonight was but a snapshot of how the last two days had unfolded. In fact, some might even say that he was appearing to be on the mend, because at least in this instance he wasn’t locked up in his room, alone, refusing to speak to anyone, eat so much as a slither or food, or drink because his stomach had felt so wretched he wouldn’t have been able to stand it.
Such was the way that Magnus’ life had unfolded.
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