Page 13 of A Bonny Pretender
“I’m done for the night,” said Charles, throwing back the last of his drink. “I quit before I lose all my brassandmy wits.”
“A wwwise man once tol’ me…” Frank drew his brows in concentration. His head was fuzzy, or was it his eyes? He rubbed them with his palms, then grinned.Much better!“Tol’ me ta follow the gentleman who was the leas’ drunk. Sssso I’m right behind ya.” He frowned as he swayed a tiny bit.
“Who was that?Weknow a wise man?” Wilkens slapped his thigh and doubled over with a hearty snigger.
“You, you bumble-headed rattle.” Frank laughed, then belched. “Beg your pardon.”
“What d’you know? I’m a wise man. D’you think I carried the gold, the fran-frankcense, or the more?”
“Mmmyrrh.”
“Myrrh. Right you are.” Wilkens paused. “You should be the wise man, except”—he hiccupped—“you want to get legshackled.” He grabbed his stomach, falling over into another fit of chortles.
“Thaz right.” Frank stood with his feet planted. “Thank you. I nnnneeded time with my old friend tonight. Are ya sstayin’ the entire Ssseason?”
“I’m not leavin’ til you choose the next. Laaaady. Raines.” He poked Frank’s chest with each word. “And I want to be wi’ness at the wwwedding.”
A footman sent for a hackney. “I’ll send a stableboy with your horses in the morning. You cannot ride in such a state, my lords,” he said in a jovial tone as he assisted them both into the vehicle.
“Corner of Brooks and Davies,” a voice called outside the cab.
Frank heard the address given, knew he was heading in the right direction, and slouched into the leather squab. The driver escorted him inside the hotel. “Are ye capable from here, my lord?”
Frank sent the driver on his way with a grunt and some coin, then squinted at the very long flight of stairs. He only stumbled once, he was sure, and was careful not to wake his valet. Old Barker had tended Frank’s stepfather and stayed on. The valet had always been kind to him as a child, and Frank had been glad for Barker’s company the past few years.
As he pulled at his cravat, the gray-haired, slightly balding man opened the connecting door. “Good evening, my lord. Let me assist you.”
“Mmmy apol-gies, Barker. I didn’t want to wwake you,” he slurred, then slumped into a chair. “I indulged a bi’ mmmuch.”
“Yes, my lord,” the elder man said. His fingers deftly unwound the cravat and unbuttoned his waistcoat.
“I need a wwwife, Barker. A sweeeeet wife in my bed. Every. Night.”
“Yes, my lord.” Barker put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him up. “Let’s get you to bed.”
*
The next morning
The Mivart Hotel
His head mustbe the size of a chamber pot. He swallowed, choking on the fur coating his tongue. A moan. His voice? He sat up and opened his eyes, only to slam them shut against the bright morning sun.
“Good morning, my lord.”
Barker.“Is it still morning?” he rasped.
“Yes, sir. Dinner has not yet been served.”
He opened one eye. Barker stood beside the bed with a tray. He removed a wet cloth and handed it to Frank, who obediently placed in on his forehead. With his free hand, he accepted the headache powder and popped it in his mouth. He handed it back and took the offered tea to wash down the horrible taste that coated his tongue. He collapsed against the bolster again.
“How did you know I would need this?” he asked weakly.
“I’m your valet, sir. I put you to bed last night.” He left with the tray and returned a few minutes later with a towel over his shoulder and a fresh bowl of water. “Feeling better, my lord?”
Frank nodded, surprised. “Yes, thank you for the tea.”
Barker gave him a small smile. “You’re welcome. Would you like a shave?”
