Page 34 of To Sketch a Scandal (Lucky Lovers of London #4)

Warren squared himself and took a breath, pausing until he could gather up the pieces of honesty he’d tossed to the wind and try again fresh.

“Turns out I like the fellow quite a bit,” he admitted at last. “We’ve struck up a friendship. I want you to let him join me here tonight. I’m willing to speak for him, and take all responsibility for the outcome, same as any guest.”

David Forester was a largely indulgent sort of man.

He dealt with every idiosyncrasy under the sun running a place like this, and still found the generosity, night after night, to pair up as many of his beloved patrons as possible.

He had a soft heart somewhere in there, and was notoriously, almost annoyingly romantic.

Warren had hoped that that was the side of Forester who would hear his request.

However, everyone knew that alongside all this sentimentality, Forester had a temper on him. And just now, his face was reddening, giving away that this less admirable aspect of him was the one peeking out to meet Warren’s creative truth-telling face-to-face.

Fuck. He really, really shouldn’t have lied.

“And why,” Forester said quietly, “would I change my mind about having him in here? I’ve already told you my thoughts on this matter.”

“You told me he saved your life,” Warren reminded him. “He saved the club. He is the reason we are both standing here right now, free to debate how best to engage with him. I understand your hesitance. His relationship to you is messy, it really is. But who isn’t a little messy round here?”

Warren gave a good insiders smile and nudged Forester with his elbow.

Forester was not moved.

“ Messy ? He’s a bit beyond messy, Warren,” he said. “He pretended to work as my valet for nearly six months. Lying the whole bloody time without so much as a wince . Better liar than you are, by far, I’ll say that much for him.”

“Forester, I’m—”

“Shaw cleared this place of all wrongdoing, yes.” Forester bowled over him.

“Did he mention to you—dear friends that you are—that he achieved that feat by burning the evidence ? Forget speaking for him here: he’s on the official record as having spoken for us .

Do you have any idea what would happen to us—or to Mr. Shaw himself—if he were caught hanging around here, after convincing a judge I was so innocent that they should sell me the bloody building after Henry Belleville shot himself over all the evidence that your friend Mr. Shaw didn’t destroy? ”

The bad temper was catching; Warren felt the acid spring up on his tongue before the words came.

“Let’s not get sentimental over Lord Bellville, alright?

” he sneered. “That ‘other evidence’ was about him doing a hell of a lot worse than what we’re doing here.

He was a monster in those enterprises, and he treated you like shit.

If Matty’s the reason I don’t have to see his ugly face anymore, I like him all the better for it. ”

Forester blinked in disbelief. At first, Warren regretted letting loose with such a fiery admonition about a dead man, but it seemed that wasn’t the worst of his mistakes.

“ Matty ?” Forester repeated.

Fuck.

“Forester—”

“I am not trying to get sentimental,” interrupted Forester, half through his teeth, because if there was anything in the world to get his temper going stronger, it was bringing up the nasty old owner of this place, whose nasty death had left a very nasty mark on his mind to this day.

“I am trying to get you to realize that there is a gravity to the situation between me and your Matty that is beyond the bounds of what I can control at the Fox. We are all on thin ice right now. We’ve got two members jailed already, Warren, and the law’s been in place for less than a year.

Two members, serving two years each. My only consolation is that it did not happen on my property, and I swear to God right now: it never will.

I will not have him luring police interest to my doorstep, not even accidentally.

I will not have him arrested on my watch, either—if he is ever found here, Warren, he will face a sort of trouble the rest of us will only know in nightmares.

It would be irresponsible of me to take on a risk like this.

For us. For him. For you. For everyone.”

It was hard logic to argue with, but the injustice of it made Warren so angry, he went for it anyway. “He helped us,” he said. “Helped you, especially. Risk aside, subjecting him to loneliness is a poor way to repay that, and you know it.”

“I am not subjecting him to loneliness.” Forester waved an arm toward the door with its bells, which seemed very silent now, not giving the slightest jangle in Warren’s defense. “There is company to be had all over London.”

“Well, it’s my…rather, our company that he wants,” Warren snapped. “And I think he’s more than earned a shot at it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Forester said.

“Are you…” He paused, his anger slipping at last. “Warren, is it more than a friendship we’re talking about here?

Have you… Bloody hell, you have, haven’t you?

” Warren didn’t need to answer. His reputation did it for him.

Forester sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

When he removed them, he was laughing, and while it was partially bitter, it was not entirely so.

“Warren, have you gone and fallen in love with the sodding detective?”

His voice, at last, had relaxed into something easier to work with. It was what Forester liked best, people falling in love. But unfortunately, the words he formed in that friendlier voice made panic shoot up Warren’s spine.

“I haven’t fallen in love with anyone,” he snapped before he could decide whether it was the wisest thing to say or even whether it was true.

He had no interest in examining that second one too closely just now.

He folded his arms and shook his hair out of his eyes, feeling half a smirk warping his features.

“Since when do I have to fall in love with someone to have a little fun after class, eh? We’re friends.

That’s the extent of the sentiment I’m built for. ”

Forester met his eye questioningly, and Warren did not blink.

He couldn’t quite deny to himself that his feelings for Matty were beyond his usual bounds, but he was not prepared to go admitting to anything so dramatic as love.

That seemed like a far greater threat to his peace at The Curious Fox than the presence of Matty Shaw.

“In that case,” Forester said carefully, “I’m sorry, Warren.

I do not take on patrons I cannot protect.

Protection is what they pay me for. It’s not the rooms. It’s not the company.

It’s not the chandelier. It’s the fact that I have my methods of keeping them out of trouble.

The safeguards I have in place for the others would do nothing for someone so instantly recognizable to the rozzers as Mr. Shaw would be.

Nothing.” He shuddered. “I really am sorry, Warren.” He stoppered up the syrup he’d made, wiped his hands, and started for the back.

“I’m going to make up the beds. If you don’t want to work tonight, I’ll understand. ”

Warren stared at the front door, where he’d so hoped to bring Matty through those curtains and spend a little time together, in the only place he could think of where that would be easy. Where the company could be trusted. Where Warren spent this half of his life.

You’d go behind his back like that? Just to see me?

“Nah,” he said. “I… I understand what you’re saying. You’re right. I’ll just suck it up and get through the night.”

Forester gave a grim but clearly pleased nod. “You want me to find you some good company to sneak off with? No falling in love required, I promise.”

Warren went back to his limes. This was disappointing, but as it wasn’t the end, he took a deep breath and determined to wait it out.

“It’s no fun sneaking away from my post if my boss orchestrates it, Forester,” he said, letting a good-natured tease take over the frustration in his voice. “I’ll handle my own sneaking as usual, thank you very much.”