Page 2 of In Pursuit of a Christmas Bride
Women, love, even his bloody acquaintances… he had no time for such nonsense. He had no interest in spending his nights rambling around London drunk and gambling and visiting the brothels. He left that to his younger rake of a brother, Lieutenant Rafe Davies, lately of the Royal Navy.
Henry knew his strengths, which consisted precisely of the law and being the dutiful eldest son. He considered anything elsea waste of his time, which he fiercely guarded. He considered time a far more valuable and precious currency.
“You are beautiful when you blush,” Michael teased, elbowing Henry as he stretched up onto his toes to search the busy street for a hackney.
This was London, late in the afternoon, on a beautiful September day. Where were all the damn hackneys?
“I am not going. I wish you a happy birthday. Now, excuse me…”
“Wait!” yelled Stephen, grabbing Henry’s arm. “I can arrange a dinner with Judge Leeson.”
Henry froze, studying his boots and playing over the name in his mind. He had tried to have his dinner with Judge Phineas Leeson for almost two years now. Knowing him would serve Henry well. He wouldn’t always be arguing civil cases. He had ambitions. There would be nothing more pleasing to him than spending his days seeing those who commit wrong in the world pay their due.
“Come for one hour this evening, and I will see it done.”
Everything within Henry tensed, and he swore he felt the beginning twinges of a headache pulse at his temples. The temptation of home was all too alluring, but he pushed past the knot in his throat and glanced up at his ruddy-faced friend with narrowed eyes.
“He owes my father a favor. It can be arranged next week.”
There was something to be said about merit. Henry wished to be recognized by his talent, not necessarily by his connections. His time in London had taught him otherwise. It was not necessarily who you were, but who you knew. And Henry craved to become something. He was hellbent on making something of himself.
He would do nearly anything as long as it was legal, of course. That was often the moral sticking point for barristers. The better ones, at least.
He whacked his top hat against his thigh, glancing up at the September pink sky as dusk quickly approached.
“Fine. One hour.”
The group cheered and pulled him down the street in the opposite direction from his apartment. Carriages rumbled by on the street, and a little girl stood by a fruit stall clutching a wilting handful of flowers.
“One last thing, Henry,” Michael said. “You’ll need a mask for the masquerade.”
“I didn’t agree to costumes.”
“Technically,” Stephen started, “you agreed only to an hour. There was no discussion of attire for that hour.”
There was no point in arguing with a solicitor, especially one who excelled at discovering the loopholes in a case. He might as well have been a hound smelling out a fox.
“Very well. One hour and a mask. I will not make any further exceptions.”
“Of course not. We wouldn’t want to ruin your carefully planned evening of poring over law cases.”
Fifty-five minutesinto the agreed-upon hour, Henry was lost among a swarm of people descending upon Vauxhall Gardens with such merriment, the excitement buzzing around him was almost catching.
Almost.
Henry was convinced the excitement was more because he was nearly five minutes closer to freedom.
He snapped his father’s timepiece shut. Four now…
The warm September night wrapped around him, but he swore he could smell the faint hint of autumn. Time was on a cusp, and Henry stood there, overlooking the party, and felt rather adrift. He felt far too restless lately, and he couldn’t shake the feeling.
It never usually bothered him. Being alone, that is. His father had passed away when he was ten, then he’d been sent to live with his uncle’s family in London. At the time, he had craved to be with his mother at the pink seaside cottage in Wales, running wild with his younger brother and sister, chasing the seagulls darting through the crashing surf. But he had lived in London on and off, and his younger brother Rafe was sent to become an apprentice to his father’s friend, Captain Ackerman, or rather Admiral Ackerman now. And as for his sister, Mari, well… they were never close before, and it was certainly difficult after the accident.
“Davies!” Stephen shouted above the din, waving Henry over to a very merry and very large group of women.
No time in his thirty-one years had Henry wished to flirt or frequent brothels or, worse, fall in love. He had one goal, and one goal only.
Henry removed his watch from his vest and pointed to it as an answer, but it didn’t matter because Stephen was already continuing with whatever one did at a masquerade. Which seemed like a lot. A lot of drinking, a lot of laughing, and a lot of behavior that normally thetonwould frown upon in the grand ballrooms of Mayfair.
