Page 6

G lancing behind him, Anthony noted the Spencers were no longer speaking with the loathsome Cavendish. Miss Spencer was standing before a shop window now, looking around her, while her sister studied it.

The woman irritated him far more than she should. Now there was also something else about her to contend with. When he’d held her and felt those soft curves pressed into his body, Anthony wanted to tighten his grip and keep her close, which had been enough of a reason to release her.

She’d left him with her soft scent and a longing for more, which shocked him. Anthony felt nothing but lust for women, usually.

The mouthy baggage had told him his personality was like a feral dog and then had the audacity to smirk after a carriage wheel flattened his hat. He’d wanted to shake her.

She was trouble, so he was avoiding her from now on, which shouldn’t be hard as she was a debutante, and they were usually terrified of him… except she wasn’t.

His aunts had put her name on the list of prospective brides for him to consider. Anthony was glad he’d crossed her off because she was about as comfortable as a hedgehog. If and when he married, which he knew was expected of him, it would not be to a woman like Evangeline Spencer.

He shot a final look in her direction as he prepared to turn left. She stood with her shoulders back, chin slightly raised, as if daring anyone to approach.

That horse would have hurt her, and possibly worse, if he’d not pulled her out of the way. Anthony’s skin felt prickly just looking at her. Damn her for not heeding his warning when he’d yelled it, because now he’d touched her, and he knew exactly what she felt like in his arms.

His eyes swept down her one last time, noting the hem of her dress did not brush her boots, but was several inches higher. He wondered what the Spencers’ situation was, and then instantly dismissed that thought. They were of no interest to him.

She stood on one foot, like a stalk, with the toes of one boot resting on the other. It was an odd stance for anyone, but for a society miss out in public, even more so.

She turned her head, as if sensing him, and their eyes collided. Anthony nodded his head, and she did the same, and then they both looked away.

His chest felt tight, and he had an urge to run. Instead, he moved out of her line of sight. Only then did Anthony draw in a deep breath and slowly release it.

It took him a further twenty minutes to reach his destination, in which time he’d dismissed Miss Spencer from his mind. Taking the six steps up to the townhouse, he arrived at the front door. Raising the brass knocker, Anthony let it drop. Seconds later, it opened.

“Good afternoon, Lord Hamilton.”

“Chadders, are they both here?”

“They are.” The door was opened wider, and he stepped inside.

“Lord Beaton and his son will arrive shortly. Have them wait in a parlor and then notify us, please, Chadders.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Short, solid, and somber, John Chadderly had been the son of the cook at Blackwood Hall.

Those who considered themselves above him treated him terribly.

It had been Anthony and his friends who protected him.

Ever since, he had worked for one or the other of them, and eventually became Toby’s butler.

Handing over his hat, Anthony then walked to the stairs that would take him up to the next floor.

The interior of Toby’s house was elegant and grand.

He was the last in a long line of viscounts who had simply added to the family coffers over the centuries.

Huge portraits hung in gilded frames. Two lions symbolizing the bravery of past viscounts flanked the Corbyn coat of arms. Anthony’s feet sank into plush carpets as he climbed to where he knew his friend would be.

Reaching the top, he turned right, and then stopped before a door. Knocking, he entered and found two of the six people he trusted most in the world.

Lord Tobias Corbyn and Lord Jamieson Stafford. They’d met when they moved into accommodations at Blackwood Hall, and their friendship had strengthened over the following years of abuse. Their ranks had not saved them. In fact, nothing but unity and Anthony’s aunts had done that.

“And here he is, society’s most infamous rake,” Toby said. He lounged in a chair with his booted feet resting on his antique desk. The shortest of them but only by half an inch, he was the largest, with arms that rivaled tree branches. He had brown hair and eyes, with a wit only he understood.

Society saw him as a charming gentleman who was happy being one of their most eligible bachelors. A man with everything he wanted at his fingertips, and with few worries. They were wrong.

It was rare he let the polite facade slip, but the few times Anthony had seen it, he’d known, that like him, Toby suffered from their past. He was just better at hiding his darkness.

“He’s scowling, which is never a good sign,” the other man in the room said.

The Marquess of Stafford was tall and carried no spare weight on his body. He rarely sat still, and if he wasn’t boxing, he was fencing with someone. Dark-haired with green eyes, women flocked to him. Little did they know the demons the man carried beneath that wicked smile.

“Why have you called us together?” Toby asked.

“I was at Hugh’s the other night—”

“Again? Good God, man, learn to sleep like the rest of us,” Jamie said.

“But then, how would he maintain his reputation?” Toby added.

“If I may finish?”

Jamie waved a hand at him to continue.

“Beaton lost everything at the tables,” Anthony added. “I found him with a pistol when I was walking home. A Frenchman called Mr. Renee was with him, attempting to stop the idiot from putting a bullet through his skull.”

Toby swore loudly but Anthony knew that like Jamie, the words , they will never walk alone, would run through their heads.

“He is one of us, even if the man is a fool,” Anthony added.

“And his son is a good man, but this will destroy his reputation and that of his two sisters, who are a great deal younger and as yet have not entered society.” Toby spoke the words slowly while that fertile mind of his worked through the problem with which they were now faced.

“Did he lose everything?”

“Enough to make him want to leave the mess he’d created to his son,” Anthony said, disgusted. “They will arrive in an hour, so we must work through what is to be done before then.”

“Noblemen,” Jamie sighed. “Lord, save us from them.”

They spent the next hour outlining a plan which Beaton would have to implement, even if he didn’t like it. Only then would he be able to repay the debt and not destroy his family’s legacy. It would take time to rebuild what he had recklessly lost in a single evening, but it could be done.

Anthony began investing years ago with the help of his man of affairs. Toby and Jamie had followed suit. Their wealth had steadily grown because of it, and now they could help others do so, if they wished to listen. He hoped Beaton would.

“I just saw Cavendish,” Anthony said when they had finished.

“We see that revolting excuse for a man most evenings. What is different about today?” Toby asked.

A vision of Cavendish standing over him with a whip flashed through Anthony’s head. He dismissed it. That man could no longer hurt any of them.

The three of them had entered that place on the same day excited about what the future held. Eager to experience what their fathers had. They soon realized they’d been sent to hell.

Theirs had been a sharp initiation into understanding that a title and wealth did not give you anything when away from those who protected you. Together, they’d learned to survive, and when they were older, they’d sought retribution.

“Anthony?” Jamie asked. “Did you and Cavendish have an altercation?”

Swirling the brandy around his glass, he said, “We did at Hugh’s.” He went on to explain what had happened.

“And that is where you got the bruise, from the fight on the way home?” Jamie added.

“Yes.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” Toby said solemnly. “The gambling, the drinking and whoring—”

“We all fight our demons our own way,” Anthony said.

“And likely they will one day be the end of us,” Toby said softly.

“I rescued Miss Spencer from being run down by a horse earlier, and Cavendish arrived after the fact and asked if she was all right,” Anthony said changing the subject. He had no wish to delve into what drove him to do what he did, just as his friends didn’t.

“Miss Spencer,” Jamie said taking his lead. “Nice lady. Articulate and witty, unlike her father who is the simplest soul I have ever met.”

“Heathcliff,” Toby added. “Yes, jovial fellow, but completely brainless.”

“Miss Spencer is definitely not brainless,” Jamie said. “In fact, quite the opposite. I know little about the younger one, however.”

“Miss Spencer is a mouthy woman who is far too ready with her opinions,” Anthony said. He instantly had his friends’ attention. “What?” he asked when they said nothing but continued to stare at him.

“You never speak about a woman in such a way,” Toby said.

“Anyway, if we are honest, I’ve never so much as heard you mention one is pretty or whey faced,” Jamie said. “You just bed them and leave.”

“You make me sound like a rakehell,” Anthony protested.

“Which is exactly what you are,” Toby said with no remorse.

“Are you both finished with the assassination of my character?” he said, temper now tweaked.

“For now,” Toby added. “But back to Miss Spencer.”

“She annoys me,” Anthony said. “The woman has far too much to say for herself.”

“I like that about her,” Jamie said.

“I heard a rumor about Heathcliff,” Toby said scrunching his face which meant he was thinking.

“You’re a viscount. You really shouldn’t look like that when you think. It makes you appear simple,” Jamie said.

“Or constipated,” Anthony added, pleased they’d moved on from him.

Not much insulted Toby; he simply smiled. He then clicked his fingers.

“I remember now. I heard he had gone into a consortium of some sort, a gold mine somewhere, I believe. Apparently, it was all a hoax to fleece noblemen from their money.”

“Which is easy,” Anthony said. “And it can’t have taken all his funds because the man has brought his daughters to London for the season.”

“It was just a rumor, and we all know how many of them are swirling about society on any given day,” Toby added.

“Both Spencer sisters seem nice, although the youngest is a bit silly. All smiles and giggles,” Jamie said.

“Deuced glad we don’t have to do what they do,” Toby added.

“What?” Anthony asked shaking his head to remove the imagine of Evangeline Spencer’s nicely rounded backside pressed to his groin.

“Marriage mart. They have to look their best at all times and show their good sides to impress would-be husbands. I would hate that.”

“That’s because you don’t have a good side,” Jamie told Toby.

“It must be hell though,” Anthony agreed. “We can do what we like, and they have to watch their every step. I was glad when Harriet met Simon and stepped away from society.”

“How is Harriet?” Jamie asked.

“My aunts called this morning. It seems I am to be an uncle.”

“Now, that is exciting news,” Toby said.

“A little person for Uncle Anthony to dote on,” Jamie added.

He didn’t tell them he wasn’t capable of doting on anyone.

“As you can imagine, my aunts are excessively happy.”

“I love your aunts,” Jamie added.

“Me too,” Toby said.

“That was not the only reason they called early to see me,” Anthony said.

“My Aunt Louise told them that seeing as it was not likely I could produce an heir, her son will become the next earl. Aunt Petunia then said, and I quote, ‘it’s imperative that simpering weasel Nigel is never the Earl of Hamilton’. ”

“She’s not wrong,” Toby said. “And your aunt isn’t a very nice woman.”

“All true,” Jamie said raising his glass. “Your aunts will be terrified she’ll cut off their funds and leave them penniless and living on the streets if you died.”

“Exactly right,” Anthony added.

“I bet they are going to apply the pressure for you to wed and come up with lists.” Jamie said.

Anthony looked at him.

“Lord, they’ve already done so. Tell us at once who is on it?” Jamie said.

“No.” Anthony took another sip.

“It is not like we are not getting the same pressure. Lists have not yet been formed, but it’s only a matter of time,” Toby added.

“I have no wish to discuss this further.”

“We could just sit on him. Between us we’re larger,” Jamie said.

“Get Chadders. He’s excellent at getting things out of people,” Toby said.

“Lady Hester, Miss Amelia Leighton, and Miss Evangeline Spencer,” Anthony said because they’d keep at him until he told them. He should have just kept his mouth closed.

“All good prospects,” Jamie said.

“Miss Evangeline Spencer? The woman is prickly and opinionated, and we can barely tolerate each other,” Anthony protested. “In fact, we dislike each other excessively. I crossed her off the list.”

“I didn’t know you had spent that much time together to form these opinions,” Toby said.

“I haven’t.”

“But you did save her today, and there is that reaction you have to her—”

“There is no reaction,” Anthony lied.

“I’ve always found her an excellent conversationalist,” Jamie said.

“Then you marry her.”

“I don’t have to marry like you. One day, of course, but there is no urgency at this point,” Jamie said smugly.

“I don’t have to marry either, as I don’t plan on dying,” Anthony said.

“But your aunts count on you,” Jamie said.

“As your sisters count on you.”

“But my sisters will wed and have others to provide for them.”

Anthony didn’t answer that because all three of them knew the words for the truth. Still, he was not marrying anyone and especially not Evangeline Spencer. The woman was the least comfortable person he knew.

“Lord Beaton and his son have arrived,” Chadders said from the doorway.

“Bring them here, Chadders,” Toby added.

The men were ushered in minutes later. Faces solemn, they sat and the hard talking began.

Lord Beaton took two hours to be convinced that his finances could be saved. Humbled and surprised, he and his son left the house with renewed hope and the knowledge that in fact he had not destroyed his family’s future, but there was work to be done before he was out of danger.

After the Beatons left, Anthony and his friends talked for hours, like they often did since becoming friends all those years ago.

They drank brandy, ate a meal, and discussed a variety of things.

These were the only men he let see the true Anthony, as they did him.

It was late by the time he walked out Toby’s front door, but as he was not ready to return to his home, he headed in another direction, seeking a different form of entertainment to keep the cold inside him at bay, no matter how briefly.