Sir William gave Claiborne a disapproving look. “What could Culfrey have to learn? There is no family further beyond censure than the Cortlands, I can tell you that. Nary a scandal in that family. Isn’t that right, Henry?”
Sweat was beading on Henry’s brow, and a kind of cold rage was causing the skin at the back of his neck to prickle. Was this Claiborne man threatening him? He was not sure what else he could hear in the veiled references to Culfrey. Struggling for a reprieve, he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his damp brow.
“I say, Henry, are you feeling quite all right?” Sir William said with some concern. “You’re looking quite peaked.”
“Very well, sir. Just hot in here is all.” Henry laughed. Since it was actually a bit chilly in the dining room, his words only left him feeling more adrift. This and the Glennburys’ ball were all combining to be his worst nightmare. He had taken the greatest risk of his life spending the night with Richard, and that was supposed to have been it. But now—now!—Julian Garrott, Sam, and this Claiborne man he did not know from Adam knew everything! He felt like he was drowning.
“Well, I am afraid we must be off, gentlemen,” Julian said softly, pushing back his chair. “Prior engagements call.”
Claiborne shot daggers at Julian, clearly displeased at having his departure arranged for him. It appeared that Julian was making an effort to avoid the man’s gaze as he rose from his seat.
All four of them stood, and Sir William said his farewells to both. Henry could feel relief coming when Julian suddenly took a step toward him and leaned in closely. Julian’s expression was once again placid, with only the shifting of his eyes showing any emotion.
“A word of friendly advice, my lord,” Julian whispered, his eyes still down. “You may wish to take greater caution in public. Most gentlemen do not carry handkerchiefs that are embroidered with another man’s initials.”
Henry looked down at the folded handkerchief still clutched in his hand. Without realizing it, he had been rubbing his thumb over the raised
R.G.A.
for some time.
He nodded curtly and turned away, shoving the handkerchief into the bottom of his coat pocket. The possibility that Claiborne might favor him with one last nasty look kept him from watching the two men leave.
“Well,” Sir William declared with a satisfied sigh. “If you aren’t in a mind to linger about the club, my boy, what do you say to a turn around Tattersalls? The horseflesh is prime this year, and one always wants to get a look at them before placing any wagers.”
The heat that had been hovering around Henry was finally dispersing, and along with it the desire to flee back to his house. No. He certainly could not do that. He would not be a coward.
“Yes,” Henry said, pulling his waistcoat smooth. “That sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon.”
As they departed White’s and climbed into Sir William’s carriage, Henry wondered with some trepidation if either Richard or Sam had any particular interest in horses.
* * * *
Richard leaned against the rough wood fence and toed the gravel at his feet. He could not care less for the fabric of his coat snagging on the wood, nor the shine of his best Hessians being married by dust. He did not want to be here. He had far more pressing concerns on his mind to spare much thought for horses or anything else. But he had remembered at the last moment that he promised a friend in Bath he would bid on a particular horse for him. The deed now done, he remained only because he was too wound up in thought to decide where to go.
An impressed whistle drew his attention to the man standing next to him. He had run into Lord Darnish while waiting in the subscription room. The man was looking just as polished and cavalier as he had at Anne’s ball. Richard was not surprised to see him at Tattersalls, since Darnish ran with the Corinthian set and practically lived in the saddle.
“Now
that
is a prime filly, if I’ve ever seen one,” Darnish mused, his eyes fixed on a gorgeous creature a few yards away.
“Quite a specimen,” Richard agreed. “Though not at all suited to a curricle.”
Darnish grumbled good-naturedly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, yes, I need to stay focused. Hunting for a good matched pair is dashed difficult. See anything that would make you willing to part with your purse?”
Richard trumped up some false enthusiasm and pointed his riding crop at the snorting black stallion that had just been led from the mews, then turned back to his turbulent thoughts. Perhaps he would encounter Henry at another social engagement in the next day or two. Though he was not certain which invitations Henry would accept. Richard could always get the information from Anne in a roundabout way, since it was likely Henry would attend the same functions as she.
“Really?” Darnish said, his voice full of surprise. “I didn’t know you had an interest in breeding blood horses. Either that or you are planning to get your neck broken. I doubt that beast could even be saddled.”
What?
Richard pulled his thoughts back to the present just in time. For the sake of livelier conversation, and to distract himself from his persistent thoughts, he shrugged and said, “I believe it could be done. I like a horse with spirit.”
Darnish made an approving sound. “Well, I wish luck to you. If it can be accomplished, I think you would cut quite an impressive figure galloping that vision through Hyde Park. A man should ride a horse that matches him.”
Richard lifted his brow at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you.”
“Yes, well…” Darnish cleared his throat, then pointed his own riding crop at a majestic heather-gray gelding that was being trotted around the courtyard. “I am considering a new riding horse for Lily. She is quite a horsewoman, you know.”
Richard resisted a grin. When in the company of Lord Darnish, it was never long before the man mentioned his mistress. It was well-known the girl had him smitten, although not quite enough to keep him away from the occasional brothel or the women selling their charms at Covent Gardens. It was less known that the chit had a young daughter, no doubt Darnish’s by-blow.
“I think the gray would match her coloring beautifully,” Darnish continued with a long sigh. “All that golden hair…”
Richard grinned, thoroughly amused and also a tad bit jealous. Not of the lady, of course, but of the sentiment. Darnish had someone who piqued his interests, occupied his thoughts, and whom he might possibly even love. Richard knew who made him feel that way, but he was far from being able to say that he
had
Henry. Richard was about to offer his compliments on Lily’s beauty, as one might expect, when his gaze was snatched away by a head of golden curls. Just stepping out of the subscription room on the other side of the yard was Henry, accompanied by Sir William Shrap. The older man was pointing at the black stallion and speaking animatedly.
“Ah, you may have competition for the stallion,” Darnish said, lifting his chin in that direction. “I hear Sir William is a presence in horse-breeding circles. Has a good eye.”
“Yes,” Richard muttered carelessly. His heart was stuttering, and a tense warmth prickled over his skin. Had Henry received the gift? He must have. The jeweler would have notified him if there had been any issue with the delivery. Or if it had been returned.
“He didn’t return it,” Richard whispered.
“What’s that, Rich?” Darnish tilted his head.
“Eh? Nothing. Just thinking aloud.”
Darnish shrugged his broad Corinthian shoulders and went back to his examination of the gray gelding, while Richard went back to his own examination. Squinting, he tried to see if the gold chain dangling at Henry’s waistcoat looked familiar. It was futile. One chain looked much like another.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, Darnish. I see someone I need to have a word with.”
“Ah. Planning to intimidate the competition?” Darnish laughed. “Good luck. He may take you prisoner with some salacious gossip from thirty years ago.”
“I’ll be on my guard,” Richard assured him and set off.
How would he get Henry alone? Without thinking, this was already Richard’s plan. He was still determined to stick to his overall strategy, and he could not very well
court
Henry in public view. The very notion brought a half-embarrassed smile to Richard’s face, as it already had several times since that night at the ball. What on earth had he been thinking when he told Henry he was going to court him? The language sounded all wrong, and yet it was precisely what he meant. “Seduce,” in the grand scheme of things, simply did not describe it. Seduction was for the body, and he wanted more than Henry’s body. He wanted his companionship, his friendship, his lo—
Richard cut that thought off. It wouldn’t do at all for him to be getting ahead of himself just because he was frustrated. Although he had to admit that the inscription he had chosen for Henry’s gift was rather sentimental. That date, that night, was important to him. Far more important than he would have guessed a time ago. It had been so perfect. Different. Surely Henry felt it too?
Richard moved across the yard, keeping behind various groups of chatting men and scrambling workers. Henry and Sir William were in deep conversation, so neither looked up to see his progress.
Tattersalls, unfortunately, was a rather poor place for a private assignation. Thinking on it, Richard was sure that last week one of the document rooms that typically housed books outlining horse lineage had been put out of use because the floorboards needed replacing. If the carpenters had yet to begin the work, it would be a blessing. If only he could manage to get Henry alone.
“Sir William!” Richard called. “Ah, I see Brenleigh is with you. Good afternoon.”
“Afternoon there, Avery,” Sir William replied, bowing his head a little. “Good day for the horses, eh? They were boxed up all day yesterday in that gale and are no doubt in higher spirits than normal today.”
“No doubt,” Richard agreed. “Do you have interest in horse breeding, Brenleigh, or just wagering on the races?”
Henry was glaring at Richard, his lips pursed as if he was holding back a far worse scowl. “No,” Henry said, facing the stallion. “I have
no interest
.”
Oh, Henry
… Richard nearly shook his head. The disingenuous play on which the ton thrived, full of euphemisms and intonations, would never suit Henry. It was but one more thing about him Richard liked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say
no
interest, my boy.” Sir William laughed. “You recognized the weak legs on that mare sure enough, and that takes a good eye. What about you, Lord Richard?”
“Oh, I am just perusing, wasting away my day like any feckless gentleman,” Richard replied. He let his gaze drift down to Henry’s watch chain. Henry looked away again. The move did not hide the flush in his cheeks.
“But,” Richard continued, “I came over to have a word with you, Sir William. Do you have your eye on the stallion? He’s in today’s auction list, you know.”
Sir William tapped his chin. “Well…can’t say as I’m really in the market for a new stud.”
“Oh! No harm, then. Never mind I mentioned it.”
Sir William frowned, and Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Harm? Whatever do you mean?” said Sir William.
“Ah, nothing,” Richard said, slapping the side of his boot with his crop in a lazy fashion. “I heard Cregly saying that he was bound to get the choice stallion since no one else of any…ahem…knowledge appeared to be showing any interest today.” At the sight of Sir William’s screwed-up look of outrage, Richard added, “He noticed you taking a close look at the stallion and declared to some of his friends that he had no reason to fear you in the bidding, since you, eh, ‘wouldn’t know a choice stud if its entire ancestry were lined up in front of you.’”
Henry scoffed and finally released his pent-up scowl. Of course, Sir William had no idea that Henry’s reaction had nothing to do with the stallion. Richard and Henry stared at each other for a second, Henry’s ire at the obvious lie written all over him. Richard smiled back.
“Reginald Cregly wouldn’t know a good piece of horseflesh
if it
sat on his face!” Sir William snorted. “No doubt someone else told him the stallion’s qualities and that is why he’s interested. Well…he would be wasted in Cregly’s stables, that’s for certain!”
“You have a mind to have him, then?”
“See if I don’t,” Sir William muttered. “What time is it? Do you suppose it is too late to get a number for the afternoon’s action? Dash it! I’ll make them give me a number in any case.”
Sir William, now as wound up as a genial man in his sixties could be, stomped off toward the front subscription rooms, his honor so affronted that he did not even spare a moment to leave Richard and Henry with a salute. He did, however, leave them alone.
“Hello, Henry.”
“What are you doing here?” Henry snapped. “Did you follow me?”
Richard ignored the sting of that and said, “I was doing exactly what I told Sir William—wasting time. But I saw you and would like to speak to you. Come with me a moment—”
“No,” Henry said quickly. “Please. I…I already asked you to leave me alone.”
“And I already told you that I can’t do that. Please. Just a few moments in private. I…” Richard trailed off before the words
I know you want to
escaped him. He was being high-handed enough as it was, he knew.
Henry shuffled his feet and pretended to examine the stallion again. “I’m not going to change my mind about anything.”
We’ll see
. “Fine, but will you talk to me anyway?”
Another shuffle of feet, followed by a painful grimace, and Henry finally turned toward him. “If you insist. Just a minute or two, before Sir William finishes his business.”
Richard nodded sedately rather than grab Henry by the hand and drag him into the building as he wanted to do. He led the way into the dark, masculine corridor that served as the main run through the members’ area. The subscription rooms were loud with conversation and the clinking of glasses. Richard passed them and sent up a silent prayer as he neared the document room he remembered. When he opened the door, he saw that the books were gone, the furnishings covered in Holland cloths, and a good portion of the floorboards near the right wall had been pulled up.