Page 53 of Mr. Cavendish, I Presume

“We were young and foolish,” Harry said, holding up his hands as if that were explanation enough. “Truly, I haven’t served him one of these in years.”

Amelia was glad to hear it; as amusing as it had been to finally see Thomas at less than his best, she did not relish the thought of marriage to a habitual drunkard. Still, it did make her wonder—just what had happened that made him want to go out and overindulge?

“Served one of these to your friend the other day,” Mr. Gladdish said offhandedly.

“My friend,” Thomas repeated.

Amelia hadn’t been paying much attention, but the tone of his voice when he replied was enough to make her look sharply in his direction. He sounded bored…and dangerous, if the combination was possible.

“You know the one,” Mr. Gladdish said. “You were in here with him just yesterday, wasn’t it?”

“Is someone visiting?” Amelia asked. “Who is it?”

“No one,” Thomas said, barely looking at her. “Just an acquaintance from London. Someone I used to fence with.”

“He is handy with a sword,” Mr. Gladdish put in, motioning to Thomas. “He trounced me every time, pains me though it does to admit it.”

“You were invited to share his fencing lessons?” Amelia said. “How lovely.”

“I shared all his lessons,” Mr. Gladdish said with a smile. It was a real smile, too; nothing teasing or silly.

“It was my father’s only generous gesture,” Thomas confirmed. “Not generous enough, of course. Harry’s education was stopped when I left for Eton.”

“Wyndham couldn’t be rid of me that easily, though,” Harry said. He leaned toward Amelia and said, “Everyone should have someone in his life who knows his every secret.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you?”

“Know his every secret? Absolutely.”

Amelia turned to Thomas. He did not contradict. She turned back to Harry with delight. “Then you do!”

“You didn’t believe me the first time?”

“It seemed only polite to verify,” she demurred.

“Well, yes, you do have to marry the old chap, whereas I must only bear his company once a week or so.” Mr. Gladdish turned to Thomas and took the empty Baddish glass off the counter. “Do you need another one?”

“One was quite enough, thank you.”

“Your color is returning already,” Amelia said with some amazement. “You’re not so green.”

“Yellow, I thought,” Mr. Gladdish put in. “Except for the purple under the eye. Very regal-like.”

“Harry.” Thomas looked quite close to the edge of his patience.

Harry leaned closer to Amelia. “Those ducal types never get black eyes. Always purple. Goes better with the robes.”

“There are robes?”

Harry waved a hand. “There are always robes.”

Thomas took hold of Amelia’s arm. “We’re leaving, Harry.”

Harry grinned. “So soon?”

Amelia waved with her free hand, even as Thomas tugged her away from the bar. “It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Gladdish!”

“You are welcome any time, Lady Amelia.”

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