Page 33 of The Thorn and the Rose

“Oh, don’t lecture me, for pity’s sake,” Thorn said with a groan, staring down into his coffee cup and trying to ignore the pounding in his head.

“I wasn’t about to lecture you,” his brother replied, accepting an overflowing plate of sausages, eggs, and bacon from the footman. “At a guess, I’d say the headache you’re suffering is penance enough,” he added with amusement, cutting into a sausage and chewing with pleasure.

“You guess correctly,” Thorn muttered, putting his head in his hands. Why was he here? He couldn’t remember what had prompted his sudden flight from town. He’d been having a fine time, after all. Though many of the ton had evacuated the city for the summer, many of the diehards—mostly the young men who were members of the club—had stayed for the duration. So, the club had laid on its own entertainments on top of the usual gambling and sporting events, seeing as there were fewer other amusements with the city so empty. Muir and Hamilton had been around, and they’d made a party of the past weeks with Leo, Larkin, and Ash. Felix came when he could, but his father was giving him increasing responsibility and he worked for a living full time, unlike the rest of them who had responsibilities of their own, but time enough to make merry. Well, except for Hart. He worked nonstop, and they saw little of him these days. Thorn regretted that and made a mental note to visit him when he returned. Hart was a serious fellow but there was another side to him that few saw and, once you got over his rather blunt manner of speaking, he was a good friend.

“I suppose everyone is disappearing from town for the ‘glorious twelfth.’ Is that why I have the pleasure? Because everyone interesting has left London?”

“What? Oh, yes… I mean, no! No, that’s not why,” Thorn said blearily.

Why had he come? He racked his brain and remembered a moment during the festivities, watching his friends dancing with less than respectable ladies, laughing and drinking too much and enjoying the party to the full. He’d looked around at the melee and felt… empty. A sudden sense of being in the wrong place had rushed over him, of wasting time and missing out on… on what? He didn’t know. He only knew that Pip seemed to have found a sense of peace over the past months, and he wanted to know what that was about. Except he couldn’t ask his brother that.

“And how is Mrs Swift?” Pip asked, his tone mild.

“Very well,” Thorn replied evenly, giving his brother a look that suggested he not dig into his private affairs.

Pip grinned at him and shrugged. “Glad to hear it. I like her, she’s good fun. Sensible, too.”

There was silence for a moment and then Pip cleared his throat.

“Don’t,” Thorn warned him. “Don’t even think about it. I’m being careful. If you think our father hasn’t repeated his favourite lecture since Tilly arrived, you’re off your head.”

Pip nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Thorn said wearily.

Pip sat back, studying him with a frown. “What’s wrong, then? I’ve heard nothing of late but what a marvellous time you’ve been having in town, either from you or from the others. I hear the trouble has died away at long last too and the club is thriving again. And here you are with a face like a wet weekend at Brighton.”

Thorn snorted and shook his head. “Damned if I know.”

Pip didn’t question him further, but finished his breakfast as Thorn nursed his coffee cup.

“Come on.”

Thorn looked up to find Pip had risen and was waiting for him. “What?” he asked warily.

“I’ve got something to show you.”

Thorn got to his feet and followed his brother out. Pip led him out into the sunshine and the glare made his eyes water, but he followed his brother around the side of the house to the stables.

“Good morning, Geoffrey,” Pip called to the head groom, who tugged at his cap respectfully.

“My lord.”

“Where is our new arrival?”

Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “Out in the paddock and he can stay there, too. The bast- the blighter did his best to take a bite out o’ me this morning.”

He pulled up his sleeve to show a livid bruise rising on his forearm.

“Ah,” Pip said ruefully. “I’m sorry about that.”

Geoffrey shook his head, taking his cap off and scratching the back of his neck. “He’s a beautiful beast, my lord, but if you don’t mind me asking, what on earth possessed you?”

Pip laughed and gestured to Thorn. “This fellow is what possessed me. He’s got a way with horses, and I’ll wager you anything you like, he’ll be riding him before the month is out.”

“That’s a wager, I’ll take,” Geoffrey said, and with such alacrity Thorn swivelled to regard his brother in alarm.

“Are you trying to murder me?” he asked, though he could not deny he was curious to see the horse now.