Page 76 of Yielding to Love

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After a long visit in the parlor, during which babies were carried off, then brought back, then carried off again, and eventually tea was served and then cleared, Jasper rose and asked Crispin to accompany him to White’s. He pointed out that the parents in the group were used to country hours and were beginning to droop.

Crispin changed into evening clothes and followed Jasper. His brother evidently wished to speak with him alone.

As they strolled along the darkening London streets, Jasper said, “I’m impressed with that knot in your cravat.”

“I have a new valet. Gerald.”

“I saw him in the hall. He seems rather conventional.”

Crispin laughed. “Yes, well, that is what I am striving toward now.”

“Good luck.” Jasper flashed him a grin, then said, “I’d like to put your name up for membership. Hazard is going to ask you to join Brooks’s. You may join both. But you absolutely must be a member of White’s.”

Crispin tensed. “And why is that? Will it look bad if your brother joins a different club?”

“No, idiot. Because I’ve missed you. And I’d rather not have to join Brooks’s to spend time with you.”

Crispin laughed. He wanted to comment ironically, but could think of no comment to make. Instead, he said, “I’d hoped you would bring Mercury to London.”

“Mercury is my lure to bring you back to Chaumbers when we go.”

“Ha! You’re getting good at this.”

As they walked, Crispin asked about Vanessa’s health. Jasper confided that they had been abstinent for a few months, but would soon try again. Crispin did not confess that he had been abstaining as well, for no explicable reason.

“What about French letters?” he asked.

Jasper shook his head. “The doctor recommended complete abstinence.” Then he grinned. “Fortunately, there are ways around that.”

“And Reg? Did you talk to him?”

“I did.”

“Was it awkward?”

“Not so very. I didn’t go to him. He asked me.” Jasper snickered. “He was very grateful when I explained.”

Crispin laughed. It was not actually funny, but he laughed. It relieved him of a burden. He had purchased one such French letter, at a very dear price, from a fellow officer, just in case the duty of telling Reg fell to him.

They talked about Chaumbers, and how well Benjamin and Olivia were doing, until they reached White’s and went in. The décor was all dark wood and bold patterned wallpaper, with gold-and-blue trim. Windows were shuttered against any nighttime disruptions from outside. Lamps burned along the walls. Bookshelves and racks holding broadsheets beckoned. As they walked through the dining hall, Crispin was obligated to take a glass of sherry and accept the congratulatory comments of several of Jasper’s friends, before he and Jasper were able to find two empty armchairs near a window. They hadn’t been seated more than three minutes before Lord Kelley came up and asked Jasper for a word. He stiffened, nodded, then rose to walk off with him. A political disagreement, no doubt. Crispin sipped from his glass, aware he should rise and find some fellows to talk to, but he was afraid to be asked about Waterloo.

He watched a short, jovial-looking, dark-haired fellow cross the room and head in his direction. He didn’t know the man, so was relieved when a group of three men seated in a cluster behind him rose in greeting.

“Lord Stirling! Good evening.”

There was much back slapping and hand shaking before the four men sat down. The name Stirling scratched at Crispin’s memory. He had no business eavesdropping—he was no longer a spy. But it irked him that he could not place the name.

“We didn’t think you’d make it tonight. Don’t you have a guest?”

“My wife’s guest. Lady Stirling practically threw me out of the house so they could continue to gossip unmolested.” Lord Stirling laughed. Then stopped abruptly. “It’s a sad case, actually. Lady Bodwell is an old friend. She deserves better than so much misfortune.”

Crispin’s grip tightened on his glass. He remembered now. The Stirlings were Camellia’s London friends. What misfortune?

“Lady Bodwell?” Another of the men mused. “Is she not Colonel Harrington’s sister?”

“Yes. She married Sir Bodwell from Tonbridge.”