Page 12 of A Gentleman's Wager

“Your brother has a mistress?”

“Nothing as official as that. Let’s just say my maid doesn’t earn all those additional shillings by taking on extra duties for my benefit.”

“Oh!” Louisa fanned herself. “Oh,” she said.

-6-

Lucerne

Lucerne was informed of his guest’s arrival the moment he crossed Lauwine’s threshold. “And where have you put him?”

“My lord. In the red room as discussed.”

“No, I mean where is he right now?”

“Ah, your study, my lord. I did try to…” The fellow petered off, as Lucerne spun on his heels and made straight for his sanctuary, while Wakefield made for the upstairs parlour.

Lucerne’s strides came to a quavering halt before the chamber door. When he’d written… Well, he’d tactfully… That is, he’d outright pretended that their last encounter hadn’t taken place.

It seemed the best thing. Easier. Not so discomforting. What he hadn’t accounted for, while being so blithe on paper, was how rattled and brittle this face-to-face reunion would make him feel. It was most surprising that his hand didn’t shatter into fragments as he grasped the doorknob.

Lucerne took a breath, then barrelled through, forcing gaiety into greeting. “Pennerley.”

His guest stood by the fireside, handsomely dressed, and with his dark hair falling in a tumble of corkscrew ringlets to mid-way down his back. No fashionable bed-headed crop for him. This pleased Lucerne for no discernible reason, given he’d sheared his own locks in the first wave of that fashion. The marquis of Pennerley had always been the most handsome of men. It was a relief to know that was still the case.

“Marlinscar.” His guest turned, offering up his hand.

To hesitate would be to betray himself and the heaviness already gathering lower in his abdomen.

The shake became an embrace, and synchronous claps upon the back, followed by an awkward moment of Vaughan holding his hand too tight while his gaze raked Lucerne’s face, seeing, perhaps comprehending, all that Lucerne was so desperately trying to hide, given the artful smile that turned up one side of Vaughan’s ridiculously sensual mouth.

He’d known that mouth, those lips, the flick of the tongue within. A shiver rolled through Lucerne’s body that he freed himself from Vaughan’s hold in order to disguise. Better to put the desk between them. He settled himself into a chair and waved his guest towards another.

The marquis, typically contrary, ignored the hint, choosing to balance on the corner of Lucerne’s oak desk instead. Barely a moment passed before he had a foot planted on the arm of Lucerne’s chair. In the past, such an ease of manners had been commonplace between them. A simple display of their friendship. Currently, the presence of that foot was making Lucerne so twitchy, it was an effort to maintain his seat.

“You look well,” Vaughan declared. “One did wonder if your retreat into the wilds didn’t signify—”

“I just fancied a respite from the nonsense, and why shouldn’t I take an interest in that which I own?”

“Why indeed?”

“One can grow tired of being hunted.” He meant by the society mamas, yet feared Vaughan might interpret it in a different way. That he might wonder if Lucerne saw him as the hunter, and had merely decided it was time to face the beast.

He wasn’t.

He wasn’t ready at all

“What I mean, is that I’m not ready to be leg-shackled just yet.”

“Good. Then I can expect some pleasing entertainment.”

“What manner—?” Lucerne breathed in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He was goddamned overthinking everything. “Providing you mean hunting game, idling away the evenings, and long exacting walks, then I can guarantee that they will be plentiful.”

“Ah, Lucerne,” Vaughan pouted. “So serious. No carousing? No horseplay?” He reached out and his clever fingers stroked the side of Lucerne’s jaw, before tapping against his lips. “Don’t worry, I’m here now. I’m sure I can unravel all the tension you’re carrying. It’s not good for your posture, you know. I suppose it’s Wakefield’s doing that you’re determined to be a dullard.”

“He is not—” Oh, it was pointless to even begin that defence, especially when he could already see the starry twinkles in Vaughan’s eyes. “How would you like me to prove myself a still decent host?”

“Start by offering me a brandy? You can tell me all that has passed since we last spoke, and I can titillate you with the adventures you missed by abandoning me.”