Page 20 of The Baron Takes a Wife

“Of course. I shall make the introduction. It is still Redcliffe, though he has been speaking of retirement. He is in London currently.”

“Thank you.”

David was about to take his leave when Michael suddenly spoke, his gaze not moving from the crush.

“Have you heard from Lennix recently?”

Henry Lennix, brother and heir presumptive of Viscount Strathall, was another of their old friends. He and David did tend to get into spots of trouble here and there, but nothing too serious. David tried to remember the last time he had heard from him. “I received the odd letter on occasion, but nothing substantial. I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back. I was going to call--”

“But you have a life to settle back into,” Michael finished. "He’s been different these last few years. I can’t say what it is.” He paused, and David appreciated that this was a rare moment when even Michael did not have the words.

“He was always a bit of a hellion, but I never worried for him.” David tried to remember that time before the Crimea. He had been a bit of a hellion himself before he went to war, angry at the world for the loss of his parents, frustrated that he had inherited so much responsibility so young. His frustration had given way to a carelessness and an easygoing façade that he used to cover this anger. Fortunately, he had grown out of most of the anger.

Michael’s lips thinned. “He’s been more than a hellion. He’s been profligate these recent years. Nearly always in his cups when I see him. He’ll drink himself to death at this rate.”

David felt like he had been punched in the chest, and he struggled to draw breath for a moment. Had he been so tied up in his own pain these past few years that he had ignored his sister or the burden of the world he had brought Elena into? Ignored one of his oldest and dearest friends? He feared the answer was yes.

“Have you spoken with him?” he asked.

Michael’s mouth went even thinner. “You know he never listens to me.” Henry always had teased Michael, who had been so serious, even when he was young. David was often the peacemaker of the group.

David nodded. “I’ll see him. This week, if I can.”

“See who?”

He hadn’t realized that Lord Gaius and Elena had returned. He feared his smile was as besotted as Michael accused him of, but he couldn’t help it. His wife was so lovely to look at, and he was grateful for the reprieve from a difficult subject.

“Henry Lennix.” He looked down, unsure if Lord Gaius knew about Henry’s circumstances.

“What a coincidence. I told your wife I would like to host the old Round Table sometime soon. She wanted to see my library. Apparently, she is an avid reader.”

“Is that so?” He hadn’t asked her about reading yet. There had been too much else to think of.

“Yes, I cultivated a love of reading in English in the Crimea. I had a most excellent teacher.” Her eyes danced as she turned back to Lord Gaius. “I think I can answer for both of us that we would be honored to attend, Lord Gaius. Yes, Husband?”

He tried very hard to keep a detached, casual expression, as the way she said “husband” sent an electric shiver up his spine. Even though “my lord” was more appropriate in society, “husband” in Elena’s accent had the most charming ring to it.

“Anything, Wife.” He could swear he heard Michael mutter “besotted” under his breath as they walked away, but Lord Gaius appeared not to hear him again.

****

David found Irene the next day while she was playing piano in the music room. She really was a prodigy, even better than their mother had been. He stood to listen for several moments before Irene noticed he was in the room. He hadn’t registered he had closed his eyes until the music stopped.

“You’re going to come with us today?”

His eyes snapped open, and he saw Irene regarding him with trepidation and affection. He reckoned it was their age difference that made them so close. Often, among his friends, those who had siblings close in age quarreled and fought, but since Irene was so much younger than him, he doted on her, and she, in turn, looked up to him. They were all each other had after their father died when she was still a child. He still couldn’t believe she was in her first Season when all he could remember was having tea parties with her dolls.

He blinked out of his reverie. “Yes, if you and Elena will have me.”

The corner of Irene’s mouth turned up. “We could be in need of a footman.”

“Ever your servant.” He struggled to broach the subject he needed to discuss with her. “Last night you seemed a great success.”

The light dimmed in Irene’s eyes. “Yes, it was rather diverting.”

This was going to be harder than he thought. He had no idea how to talk to his eighteen-year-old sister about her suitors. Perhaps he should have left this to Elena or Sophie.

“Irene, I noticed, that is, Elena and I agree that you, well, you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself very much.