One Indulgence (27 page)

“There you are,
Richie
. I had given up hope of you joining us.”

“I’m sure,” Richard muttered. He turned to look over the rest of the guests. He was loath to ask but knew he must. “Do you know where Anne is? I must extend my…congratulations.”

Culfrey could not resist one last sneer before he held his hands primly behind his back and lifted his chin in the direction of the formal gardens below. Richard followed his gaze and saw what he knew he would and yet hoped he would not. Anne and Henry stood near a picturesque fountain, surrounded by spindly iron arches covered in rose vines. Anne’s arm was tucked inside Henry’s in a most formal and respectable way, but to Richard it might as well have been a passionate kiss. Bile rose in his throat.

“I will announce the wedding date after Shoal presents his prize mare in a little while,” Culfrey said stiffly. “This entire party is to celebrate his win at the races last week. Who throws a party for a horse?”

Culfrey’s crony laughed and voiced his agreement, but Richard was no longer listening. He was walking on legs that felt as if they were not there. He nodded polite greetings to those he knew, but otherwise kept going, his boots digging at the white gravel as he reached the path. Henry and Anne were not alone but were speaking with several others whose bright smiles and nods hinted at the subject of their conversation.

“So quickly, Anne!” one of the ladies said with a titter, her parasol twirling. “You did not even give the other ladies a chance, did you?”

Anne muttered something in reply, but Richard could not hear it. He kept shifting his eyes into the distance as he approached. He could not look at Henry. No. He could not even do that.

“You know how the young debutantes enjoy angling after the handsome gentlemen,” an older lady said, winking at Henry. “But now they can’t even pretend. It’s quite unfair.”

“Yes, quite unfair,” Richard said flatly. The words left his mouth before he could think.

Anne spun around, and a look of…relief?…flooded her pale face. And it
was
pale. And thinner.
What the devil?

“Richard!” she gasped, releasing Henry’s arm and casting her own around her brother’s neck. “Where have you been, you awful toad? You fell off the face of the earth.”

At any other time Richard would have cringed at his sister’s lack of tact, for there were a dozen people at least within hearing. He forced his most debonair smile and said, “You know even London can become a dead bore, Annie. Had to get away for a while and…find some amusement.”

“Amusement, really!” She sighed, shaking her head. “But I’m so glad you’re here. Did you see Tom?”

“Of course, my dear,” he said, flicking the ribbons of her bonnet in a superior, brotherly way. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Could they hear the catch in his voice? He felt it.

“Yes, good to see you again,” Henry said, his words quick and higher than normal.

Richard looked up, appearing for all the world to give Henry his polite attention, but he could not look at him. He focused his gaze on the garden over Henry’s shoulder. “Yes, I…I believe some congratulations are in order.”

There was a long pause, during which Richard was tempted to look into those blue eyes, but he refused. The anger was eating him alive. His lifted his chin and put on a stony expression.

“Yes. Thank you.” Henry’s voice sounded hollow as a drum.

He is uncomfortable, Richard thought bitterly. Good. Let him squirm.

“And when may we expect the blessed event?” Richard said.

“His Grace is planning to make the announcement soon,” Henry replied, clearing his throat as if he were choking on something.

Richard grunted some noncommittal reply and turned his attention to the other listening guests. The two ladies who had spoken earlier with such comfort now looked uneasy, for the strained formality between Richard and Henry had not gone unnoticed.

“Oh! Well…” Anne said, laughing nervously. “No need to stand on ceremony with Richard, my l—Henry. Rich, we have decided to hold the wedding one month after tomorrow. I-isn’t that wonderful?”

She did not sound as if she thought it was wonderful, but Richard thought that might just be her reaction to his behavior. Perhaps Sam Shaw was right, and he was a horrible actor.

“Culfrey decided,” Henry said suddenly. “I mean… That is, he suggested it would be a good idea to be among the first weddings of the Season. Better to avoid having a ‘wedding-fatigued’ guest list, he said.”

Richard turned at this rapid speech, his eyes blazing. Did Henry actually mean to blame this on Culfrey? It was not Culfrey who had asked for Anne’s hand in marriage. It was not Culfrey who had thought to do so mere hours after kissing
him
, after finding heaven in
his
arms.

“I dare say my brother knows what is best, then,” Richard said, raising his chin. “I cannot imagine you wish to delay such a happy event more than necessary.”

And then, unable to resist a moment longer, he looked into Henry’s eyes. They were dimmer than he remembered, and surrounded by ashen circles. It was a cool day, and yet strands of his golden-blond hair stuck to his brow.

“Long engagements are quite dreadful, I think,” one of the ladies interposed. “And all the better to have a summer honeymoon, yes?”

Richard’s jaw stiffened. “Yes. Won’t that be pleasant,
Brenleigh
?”

Henry’s face cracked around a smile as he fidgeted in his coat pocket. He pulled out a wrinkled handkerchief and pressed it against his moist brow. “Eh, yes. We were thinking about Brighton, and the summers are quite fine there. Don’t you agree, Anne?”

“Oh, yes, indeed!” She nodded. “Richard, Henry has a yacht. Did you know that? He says we will go sailing.”

It was too much. Richard could not take any more. He had done his duty and satisfied Culfrey as much as he was able, but he was jealous of his own sister, and it enraged him. Henry did not deserve his jealousy!

Richard turned, ready to make his excuses and leave, when something caught his gaze, and he sucked in a breath. Henry was still blotting his forehead with his wrinkled handkerchief, only it was not his. The bold
R.G.A.
embroidered in the corner left no doubt.

Henry saw his stare, looked at the cloth in his hand, and turned green.

“Oh, my!” the younger lady cried. “Lord Brenleigh, are you feeling quite the thing? You look done in, if you will pardon me.”

“What? Oh, yes, yes. I…I believe I’m just a bit under the weather is all.” Henry worked the handkerchief back in his pocket with a shaking hand.

It was a good thing too, for Richard felt the vicious urge to snatch it from him and shove him to the ground. How dare he betray him and…and then keep something of his! A startling thought struck him, and he dropped his eyes to Henry’s waistcoat. There, dangling from the chain on one button, was the small monogrammed watch fob that Richard had bought as a mate to the watch he had given him. Henry was wearing it. Henry was wearing his gift and carrying his handkerchief.

Bastard!

“Forgive me, my dear, but I see someone I must speak to,” Richard said to Anne, the words running together into one rushed sound. “Enjoy the day. I shall stay to accompany you and Thomas back to town. Excuse me.”

The soft lawn dampened his angry steps as he marched away across the garden. He knew full well that he left behind him a scene of confusion and speculation. He had behaved badly, but as well as he could manage. Soon enough word would get around that Lord Richard appeared to disapprove of his sister’s match and had even behaved coldly to Lord Brenleigh, et cetera. Did it matter? He supposed not. In fact, it would be good to establish such a story early, since it would come along anyway after the wedding, when he never saw his sister again.

Damn you, Henry! How could you do this?

Where Richard thought he was going, he did not know, but he could not very well leave the picnic before Culfrey made his announcement. He approached a grand stone fountain, the gurgling streams creating a spray in the wind. He circled to avoid being showered and was surprised to see Julian standing with an older lady and a man and woman of middling age. Richard recognized the lady as Julian’s older sister from his father’s first marriage. She was a spinster, and Julian often escorted her to functions. Richard did not recognize the couple.

Julian caught his gaze and smiled warmly yet cautiously. “Richard. I was wondering if you would be here, since you have been gracing the countryside with your presence these two weeks.”

Richard was a little surprised at how glad he was to see Julian, even if only for the small comfort of having one of his intimate friends on hand. Intimate, meaning those who knew of his proclivities. A precious few, to be sure. He should, perhaps, feel awkward around Julian now, knowing that their parting had not been without hurt feelings, but he had meant his words to Julian. He would prefer to remain his friend.

“Culfrey is announcing Anne’s wedding date today. I could hardly miss it, though I was bad enough to miss her engagement announcement,” Richard said.

The way in which Julian cast his eyes down and away told Richard that he knew at least some of what was going on. It made sense that he would. Despite his sometimes shallow facade, Julian was anything but stupid, and unlike Sam Shaw, Julian knew Richard well enough to know that he would never approve of Anne marrying a man like them. Clearly, there had been an abrupt parting.

“Gertrude, you know Richard.” Julian nodded to his sister.

“Yes.” Miss Garrott smiled, letting Richard bow over her hand. She turned to their other companions and said, “Lord Richard here is a good sort, always willing to dance with a hopeless old maid like myself.”

The other lady, who appeared to be around thirty, smiled and dropped a deep curtsy, showing Richard that she believed herself well below him in consequence. The man bowed in a similar fashion, but his smile was friendly and not at all scraping.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Miss Garrott gasped. “That was a fine introduction I just made, wasn’t it?”

Julian laughed and patted her hand. “Richard, allow me to present Mr. Franklin Cortland and his wife, Mary. Sir, ma’am, this is my good friend Lord Richard Avery.”

Richard blinked several times but managed to give the superior bow they expected and a friendly smile they probably did not. Cortland. Cortland? Could this possibly be…?

“Pleased to meet you,” Richard said.

“Mary is a good friend of mine from my school days, but she was several years behind me,” Miss Garrott offered. “She is Lady Shoal’s niece.”

That explained why the Cortlands were there at any rate, though Lady Shoal was known to fill every guest list she wrote to bursting anyway. Richard extended his hand. “Cortland, you say? Of the Brenleigh earldom, by chance?”

Julian made a sound in the back of his throat, and Mr. Cortland’s grip on Richard’s hand slackened noticeably.

“Yes, the very same,” Mr. Cortland said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Franklin is heir to the earldom, my lord,” Mrs. Cortland said brightly, then just as quickly blushed red as if she had said something vulgar.

“Oh, that!” Mr. Cortland laughed, shaking his head. “A distant heir, to be sure, and quite unlikely to inherit, my lord. Hardly worth mentioning.”

“Stuff!” Miss Garrott proclaimed. “Why, being heir to an earldom is always worth mentioning. And Lord Brenleigh is here right now. But listen to me! You know that, Lord Richard. He is your sister’s betrothed, after all.”

Julian and Richard exchanged a knowing glance.

“Yes, I…” Mr. Cortland began and brushed some of his blond hair from his brow. “I had not known His Lordship was to be here until a little after we arrived. Quite a…a pleasant surprise.”

Richard took a moment to examine the man, the infamous cousin who was so horrible that Henry had to keep him from the title at all costs. He was in his middle thirties and had the same blond hair and blue eyes as Henry, though not nearly as brilliant. His clothes, while well tailored and competently arranged, were not of the first fashion and were sober enough as to be downright dowdy. Everything about the man looked…wrong?

“Ah, yes!” Richard exclaimed suddenly, an idea entering his head. “I believe I’ve seen you before, Mr. Cortland, but I did not make your acquaintance at the time. Was at one of the faro tables in Lockland’s, wasn’t it? Or perhaps the betting room at Tattersalls?”

Cortland’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken, my lord. Mary and I are newly arrived in London this last month to visit her parents, and…well…I’m afraid I’m not much for gaming.”

Not anymore, perhaps?
But Richard was beginning to doubt it. “Oh, I see. Well, good for a man to give up wagering if he lacks the skill. Many a man has lost his fortune and more on luck.”

Julian gave him a questioning look at this bizarre line, but Richard ignored him.

“Oh, no, my lord,” Mrs. Cortland said, taking her husband’s arm. “Franklin has never been one to frequent gambling tables or other such horrible things. I…I mean, not that there is anything wrong with you. I mean, many gentlemen gamble, certainly…” The lady trailed off, mortified at her perceived faux pas. The other three looked just as uncomfortable, until Richard forced a laugh and nodded his full agreement.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Cortland. Well said. I believe I must have been mistaken, Mr. Cortland. Can’t say I spend much time at tables myself, when I am able to avoid them.” He made a disapproving face and saw that both of the Cortlands relaxed immediately.

My God. They disapprove of gambling
, Richard wondered. He would not be surprised if they abstained from drink and were the sort of good people who read improvement books. Cortland’s complexion, pink and robust, looked like that of a man who had never passed anything harder than weak champagne. The man looked like a milk-fed country squire, not a debt-ridden gambler!

“Mama! Mama! I won the egg toss!”

Richard stepped back just in time to avoid a fair-haired little boy barreling into their midst. The child, who looked to be around seven or eight, grabbed Mrs. Cortland’s hand and shook it. Richard balked openly. They had a son too? An apparently healthy and happy son?