Page 59 of Doxy for the Ton
What for—taking me past the scene of my disgrace to relish my shame?
“Really?”
Whitcombe nodded. “My wife would chew my ears off if I didn’t.”
“Where’s the apology in that?” Alexander asked. “You’re only doing so for fear of retribution if you didn’t.”
“Much likeyou, then,” Whitcombe said. “Tell me, how’s the leg?”
Damn you.
Alexander glanced at the furrows as the memory of that morning penetrated his mind—the coarse laughter as he urged his friend on, the crack of the whip, then the screams that froze his blood, accompanied by the splintering sound of wood and broken necks and finally the relief of oblivion.
A carriage accident, the authorities had ruled.
“It’s improving,” he said.
“There’s no harm in walking with a stick, you know,” Whitcombe said. “Some men consider a cane a fashion accessory, and I daresay you could pull it off. Though perhaps your latest paramour fulfils the same need as a cane.”
“Don’t talk rot,” Alexander said.
“Not literally, of course—a woman that delicate would not carry your weight. But in other things—I daresay she’s propping up your reputation if not your body.”
“Whitcombe, I swear, if you say one more thing about her, I’ll—”
Whitcombe let out a laugh, and the duchess glanced over her shoulder, frowning.
“You’ve got it bad, haven’t you, Sawbridge?”
“Got what?”
Whitcombe shook his head. “I’m in no mood to point out that which you must discover for yourself.”
“Is that what your wife tells you when you’re behaving like an arse?”
Whitcombe merely smiled, then increased the pace, catching up with the ladies. He raised his hand in salute, and Alexander’s heart sank as he caught sight of the couple approaching them.
Earl and Countess Walton.
Walton had assisted Foxton in throwing Alexander out of White’s club. As to the countess…
That harridan had accused Alexander of being a murderer, a reprobate, and a seducer of women, and had threatened to run him through with a sword if he came within twelve inches of her or any of her friends.
Oh, for the days when a woman would merely give someone she disapproved of the cut direct! But Countess Walton would never be content with something so refined.
Alexander gritted his teeth, then joined the party.
Lady Walton’s eyes sparkled with delight as she embraced the duchess. She turned her gaze to Mimi, then her smile disappeared as she caught sight of Alexander.
“Lavinia, this is Lady Rex,” the duchess said. “Lately arrived in London. Mimi—this is Earl and Countess Walton.”
Mimi dipped into a curtsey. “Countess.”
The countess cast a sharp glance at Alexander. “Is this the same Lady Rex you’ve not been able to stop talking about, Eleanor?”
Mimi stiffened, and the duchess laughed. “Forgive me, Lady Rex, but I’ve been enthusing about you to my friends—well, the few that I have. I fear I insulted Lavinia when I was unable to take tea with her last week due to a prior engagement with you.”
“You shouldn’t have disappointed your friend on my account,” Mimi said.
