Page 16 of A Night of Forever
“You should have talked to us first.” Hadley had lowered his voice, but judging by the white-knuckled fists balled at his side, he was still fuming. “The ladies are not going to be pleased about this.”
“I don’t give a toss what they think.” Not true, but he couldn’t afford a conscience. “You and I both know we are running out of time. Victoria said—”
“God damn it,” Hadley exploded. Then, recalling where he was, he went on in a moderated snarl. “I told you not to talk to Victoria. Tangling with her is dangerous.”
“Too late.” Arend turned his back and began to dress.
But Hadley wasn’t finished. “Why bring Isobel into this at all?”
Arend closed his eyes briefly. God grant him patience. “As a matter of fact, she came to me.” Hadley’s look of disbelief made him add, “Isobel thinks Victoria had something to do with her father’s death. It seems the fire that killed him and his mistress was deliberately lit.”
Hadley’s heavy frown eased a little as he considered this new information. But he wasn’t completely appeased. “That still doesn’t mean you have to bloody marry her.”
Enough was enough. “Christ,” Arend muttered. “I need a drink.” And he turned and stalked out of Gentlemen Jack’s, not caring whether or not Hadley followed.
In the street he hailed a hackney carriage, gave his destination, and climbed in. But before he could close the door, Hadley and Philip shoved in behind him. Although he felt like tossing them both out, he restrained himself. All three of them sat in stony silence until the hackney drew up at Arend’s home.
“I’ll be damned if I’ll let you chew my ear off without a good brandy in hand,” he said. “You might as well come in.” He descended from the hackney and went up the steps to his front door, Hadley and Philip at his heels like determined dogs.
As usual, he felt a prick of shame at the state of his home. Jeeves, his long-suffering butler, chastised him constantly about not spending some of his wealth on his dilapidated townhouse. But he didn’t deserve to live in comfort, to spend his money on himself when Jonathan…
Hadley and Philip had seen his home often enough that they barely noted the sorry state it was in.
Once the men were settled in the drawing room, he poured them all brandy and flung himself into his favorite chair next to the fire. The first gulp of liquid made his insides glow. A few more, and he wouldn’t care what either man said.
Philip raised his glass. “Here’s to a successful engagement, and to Victoria’s comeuppance.”
Arend could drink to that. And did.
“Here’s to hoping we bloody well don’t get Isobel killed,” Hadley said. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”
He drank to that too, then decided two toasts were enough. “What else were we to do?” he said. “This is the perfect way to prove that Isobel is innocent. In addition, we now have someone in Victoria’s household who can pass us information.”
Hadley leaned forward in his seat. “Victoria is not that stupid. Any information that Isobel learns is likely to be information Victoria feeds her. It will, most likely, lead us into a trap.”
“But it will be a trap we know is a trap,” Arend argued. “That makes a huge difference.”
The other two exchanged a glance. “I don’t see how,” Philip remarked gravely.
Arend was sick of their gloomy outlook. “Does anyone have a better plan?” When the two men remained silent, he remarked, “I thought not.”
The fight appeared to have gone out of Hadley. “Just be careful. I’m leaving town for a few days, traveling to Lathero.”
He regarded Hadley through half-closed eyes. “Evangeline agreed to go, then?”
“Yes. We need some time away from all of this to see what is left between us.”
Arend nodded. He was happy for his friend. Five years ago Evangeline and Hadley had been torn apart. Now reunited, they were both unsure if they could pick up the pieces of their past love affair. They deserved time to find out.
“Sebastian has agreed to look after Sealey,” Hadley said. “I also heard Evangeline say Isobel might take the boy to Richmond Park. Would she let Isobel near her son if she thought her in league with Victoria?”
“I’ll accompany them,” Arend said. Nothing would happen to Evangeline’s son if he could prevent it. “The boy’s life should not be trusted to Isobel until we know for certain whose side she is on.”
Hadley’s smile held both relief and gratitude. “Thank you. I would feel easier if you were with them. I wish I could have as much faith in Isobel as Evangeline does, but I won’t risk anyone I love. That includes you, Arend. Please be careful. Now I must be on my way.”
Hadley swallowed the last of his brandy, put his glass on the table at his elbow, and shoved to his feet. “Now. You”—he turned to Philip—“make sure he stays out of trouble. And you”—he stabbed a forefinger in Arend’s direction—“go and tell the other Libertine Scholars what you’re up to. They can’t protect you if you keep them in the dark.”
Arend had the grace to feel sheepish. Theywereall in this together. And then his usual sense of guilt took over. How long would that togetherness last when they—who were now his friends—learned of the true depths to which he’d fallen?
