Their enthusiasm pleased me, especially Estelle’s. “I am happy you are enjoying yourselves.”
“Lord Camden!”
My eyes had been on Estelle instead of where we were walking, and my gaze jerked forward at the easily identifiable voice.
Mary Anne.
I bit the inside of my cheek, annoyance flooding over me. A moment later, Barry slid up beside her, and my annoyance doubled.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Barry smirked under his mustache. “We go months without your presence and then, to our great delight, we are graced with it twice in a fortnight.”
If sarcasm were made of cloth, he would be wearing a full suit. I knew he was angry with me for cutting off our friendship—though I had my doubts he was angry enough to attempt to kill me—but his childishness now wasn’t making me miss my time with him at all.
Mary Anne patted Barry’s arm. “Barry has such a sense of humor, doesn’t he? Really and truly, you were just the man we hoped to see.”
“Oh? Why is that?” I asked, even though I did not care to know.
Mary Anne preened. “As one of our oldest friends, we wanted you to be one of the first to know about our engagement.”
Barry grinned like a braggart, while Mary Anne only watched me. It was then I realized her tone was not celebratory. She was waiting for a reaction from me, but she would be disappointed in this. I felt nothing for her. I was neither angry nor sad, but I could not say I was overjoyed either. Forcing a smile, I slapped Barry on the arm. “Congratulations.” It was the friendliest response I could muster. “You two are perfect for each other.”
I meant every word.
Mary Anne’s smile dipped into a frown, while Barry seemed to be appraising my level of sincerity. I waited to see the loathing in his eyes—the depth of emotion strong enough to kill a man—but it did not appear.
A moment later, Abramson joined our circle. “I did not know your family was here.” His eyes warmed at the sight of Augusta.
“Isn’t the play lovely?” Augusta asked him. I noticed she held no special amount of enthusiasm in her voice.
“Indeed, it is,” Abramson answered. He seemed to stall at what to say next, so he turned his attention to me. “Lord Camden, it’s good to see you out more. You should join us tomorrow at our usual haunt. A few rounds of entertainment at the tables would do you good.”
I tensed, but took every effort to relax my posture again before anyone noticed. “I don’t do that any longer, Abramson. I’ve already told you that.”
Barry huffed like he did not believe me.
Abramson shrugged. “You were wicked good. Think about it.”
Barry nudged Abramson. “Let the man alone. He will do as he pleases—he always does.”
Not ready to get into an argument in a public setting, I thought it the opportune time to leave. “Forgive me, my sister is thirsty,” I said. “Please, excuse us.” I dipped my head and escaped past them, bringing Estelle and Augusta with me.
After we were out of range, Augusta leaned close. “You handled that very well. Are you all right?”
I nodded. I thought she might chastise me for my rudeness and was grateful she did not. My gaze flicked over to Estelle’s to catch her reaction. She quickly looked away, leaving me wondering. I hoped they both believed me because I did not care to expend any more energy on my old friends. “Were you disappointed that I rushed you away from Abramson?”
Augusta hesitated. “He’s amiable enough, but he told me when we last talked that cats make him sneeze. I have had several days to think about it, and I realized I care more for Gingersnaps than I do him. I suppose the idea of having someone interested in me was more exciting than the reality.”
My lungs filled with relief. He was a decent sort of acquaintance but not a man I wanted her to marry. The long corridor opened into an anteroom for refreshments near the front of the building, and I directed us toward a footman serving drinks.
Once we all had lemonade in our hands, Augusta announced that she was taking a glass to Mother, despite her previous objections, and turned to fetch another cup. Estelle stepped up beside me in her wake. She appeared to want to say something but was vacillating over it.
“Go on. What is on your mind?”
She lifted a brow, thrown by my perception. “It’s nothing. But . . . were you in earnest? Are you well?”
I lifted a brow. “Do I look ill?”
“I meant after that run-in with your friends.”
