Page 44 of Dare to be Wicked

“Come down to the summerhouse,” he suggested. “I’ve got a bottle of cognac stashed there I think might meet with your approval.”

It was obvious Nic was in an uncertain mood this evening and, in Cassius’s experience of the man, that invariably led to trouble. In the circumstances, it was best to take Nic as far away from the guests as he could get.

Cassius filled his glass again. No doubt he would regret this in the morning, and he had no doubt whatsoever he would receive the devil of a dressing down from his mama for having disappeared so early in the evening. Yet it was good to be with his friends again. It reminded him of many nights in France with the brothers, drinking too much and talking nonsense half the time, arguing fiercely about art and books, and life in general. It usually ended with him talking about home as the longing for it rose in proportion to how drunk he was. He would wax lyrical about Holbrook, about his life there and his family, and most often about Eliza and Lottie and how he missed them both. How strange, then, to be back here at last, with his friends, and still missing Eliza and Lottie so badly his chest hurt. He must go back to the house soon though, for he had promised Lottie a dance. Though it was a dangerous thing to do, he would not miss it, not for the world.

“This is dreadful,” Nic said, looking down at the still life he’d managed the other day in disgust.

Cassius flushed. Nic had a good eye for art and knew what he was talking about. His opinion mattered to Cassius and the comment stung, for he knew it was true.

“Yes, it is. I know,” he said, frowning into his glass. “Can’t seem to settle to anything.”

“Guilty conscience?”

Cassius looked at Nic in surprise, a little unsettled by the fellow’s tone, he sounded angry. He glanced then at Louis César, who cleared his throat.

“I told him about Eliza.”

“Are you out of your damned mind? Fils a Putain!” Nic snapped, with such fury Cassius could only stare at him. “And why the devil did you never tell us you were engaged to her?”

“Because I wasn’t!” Cassius retorted. “It was just a foolish arrangement we made as children, and lucky for you, for Louis César seems to have stepped into the breach fast enough.”

He knew at once it was the wrong thing to stay as Nic stiffened, but before things could go badly wrong, Louis César intervened as he usually did when Nic was about to erupt.

“Cassius, I think we should get some air. We shall leave Nic to enjoy criticising your work in peace. Thinking up some cutting remarks will make him feel better. When we return, he can tell you how awful it is, and you can tell him he’s an idiot, and all will be well, yes?”

Not waiting for an answer, Louis took Cassius by the arm and towed him forcibly outside. He did not stop until they stood beside the lake, staring out over the glinting black water.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with him?” Cassius demanded.

“I’m damned if I know,” Louis said. “He won’t tell me. You know him well enough now to understand Nic has a dark spirit. His is not a quiet soul. He is not by nature easy-going, and his temper is uneven at best, but… but this I am not certain I understand. Unless….”

Louis César shook his head in frustration and stared at the lake, deep in thought.

They stood in silence for a long while.

“Do you mean to marry Eliza?”

He felt Louis César turn to look at him.

“If she will have me,” he said quietly. There was a soft huff of laughter. “Which, I am chagrined to discover, is by no means certain. I do not think your Eliza is terribly impressed by my charm. It is a dreadful blow to my ego, I assure you.”

“She is not my Eliza,” Cassius said.

“No. Much to my relief. I should not have wished to have you as an opponent for her affections.”

“Will you make her a good husband?” Cassius turned to look his friend in the eyes. He’d never seen eyes of quite such intense blue as Louis César’s and had painted the comte more than once, trying to capture the mercurial spirit he saw there.

“I do not know,” Louis replied with his usual candour. “I can only promise you that I will try.”

“I hope you will try very hard, Louis,” Cassius said, knowing Louis heard the threat behind his words. “She is my friend, and I won’t see her hurt or embarrassed.”

Louis quirked one eyebrow and Cassius felt sick.

“You do not need to tell me I’ve done just that. I’ve made a confounded mess of everything. Believe me, I know I’m an utter bastard. I hate myself.”

Louis shrugged. “You cannot help it if you do not love her, or… is there more to it than that? Another woman perhaps?”

It wasn’t the first time Cassius had cause to curse Louis’s perceptiveness. He could only hope he hadn’t guessed who the woman was. Hoping to turn his attention to other matters, he gestured back to the summerhouse. “We’d best go back. He’s seen everything I did in France and there’s not much else. If we don’t hurry, he’ll decide it’s all worthless and set fire to the lot.”