“Excellent. In that case, I can offer you tea.”
“I don’t want tea. I want…” James broke off, glaring at the footman until the poor man bridled and showed himself out.
“Sit down, why don’t you?” Clayton drawled. “Pray, refrain from casting such baleful glances upon my household. They have committed no offence against you.”
James pressed his lips together and sank down into an armchair without asking permission.
For a few moments, the men stared at each other. Claytonwaited patiently for James to speak first.
“Why did you do it?” James said at last.
It was the question Clayton was waiting for, but he was no more prepared to answer it than he had been at first.
“Because I am a drunk, prideful fool,” Clayton answered at last. “When the wager was made, Simon made me feel small. Silly. I accepted the wager because I was drunk, and too foolish to think over the long-term consequences. And once I had sobered up and realised what I had agreed to, I was too proud to back out. And now see what I have done. I would gladly give Simon his fifty pounds, or even a hundred, or more, to undo what I have done. What I put Lady Isolde through is… is too painful for me to think on. Heaven only knows how she feels. I’m a fool, and a weaker man than I thought. I am aware that this may not suffice for you, but I assure you that a deep sense of remorse is consuming me entirely.”
“You’re right,” James said, after a pause. “It isn’t enough. Tell me, did you know about Lord Raisin?”
Clayton slid lower in his seat, tipping back his head to look up at the ceiling. What exquisite moulding they had up there. Why had he never admired it before? He was in the middle of wondering how the servants managed to dust the ceilings when James spoke again, a trifle angrily this time.
“Answer me!”
Clayton shot him a look. “It’s not proper to harangue one’s host, you know.”
“Oh, do cease this chatter! It is hardly seemly to engage in wagers regarding who shall win or lose a lady’s affections, yet you did just that. Pray, answer my question.”
“Oh, yes, your question. I must confess, I didn’t entirely understand it. Can I assume that Lord Raisin is engaged to Lady Isolde? That was always his aim, was it not?”
James stiffened. “No,” he bit out. “They are not engaged, andnever will be.”
That got Clayton’s attention. He sat up a little straighter, tilting his head to one side.
Looking properly at James, Clayton saw a hundred details he hadn’t noticed before. The young man was clearly furious, but not, as Clayton had initially assumed, at him. He was fidgeting and half-muttering to himself, face white under his tan and lips pressed tight together.
“What has he done?” Clayton heard himself say. “Lord Raisin, that is.”
James glanced up at him, eyes narrowing. “First, tell me who knew about this wager of yours.”
“I cannot tell. I told nobody. Only my friend, Lucas, knew about it, and of course Mr. Simon Dudley. However, I don’t believe he kept his silence. I heard that other men were laying side wagers as to the outcome. But I never told a soul.”
James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think that Lord Raisin might have heard?”
Clayton frowned, leaning forward. “It’s possible. Why do you ask?”
“Because I just discovered him at White’s, inebriated beyond measure, standing upon a table and boasting of his allegiance to Mr. Dudley’s wager. He proclaimed himself the one charged with thwarting your courtship of my sister, yet instead, he has claimed her for himself—along with her considerable dowry,” he added, his tone rife with bitterness. “His words, I assure you, not mine. Had he not been so far gone that he could scarcely maintain his footing, I would have delivered him a well-deserved blow right then and there.”
“You do like to hit people, don’t you?” Clayton remarked, fingering the blossoming bruise on the side of his jaw.
“Only when they deserve it. Well, there you have the tale. What might you have to say regarding it?”
Clayton pursed his lips. “What would you like me to say? I didn’t know that Lord Raisin was involved, or I would have tried to warn Lady Isolde. However, one could argue that what Lord Raisin did was not so bad as what I did. I am ashamed, you know.”
James seemed a little mollified at this. Perhaps he was finally starting to believe that Clayton truly regretted it.
Words, though, would only go so far. A man could only say ‘sorry’ so many times before the word lost its meaning.
Something was bothering Clayton, however, and he leaned forward further, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You said you just found him in White’s?”
