Page 10 of Measure of a Man

His smile was tight as he handed the soiled cloth back. “Yes, quite. A lady rather does that to one.”

CHAPTER 4

Despite the brisk walk back to his chambers in Jermyn Street, there was still a tremor to Virtue’s fingers by the time he reached the familiar corner to his street.

What if he had been mistaken in the shop and had performed a grave assault upon Exeter? Whatever he believed or wanted to believe about their moment alone, Exeter had left. It had taken Virtue all of five minutes to descend from the euphoria of having frigged his friend to the fear that he’d now lost his friend entirely. They’d both wanted to, but what did that matter if one now regretted it?

Exeter would have every right to call him out for the insult. It was almost tragi-comic; they had been brought together by a gunshot and now their friendship was likely to be ended by one. He let out a sharp laugh at the terribleness of it all.

Or worse, what if Exeter did not call him out, and instead gave him the cut? Knowing that he would cease to exist to his friend was unbearable. He’d brought this on himself with his hideous selfishness. Why couldn’t he have controlled his baser desires, knowing how much a lapse in judgement could cost them both?

He could fix it. Every reasonable problem had a reasonable solution. If he was thankful to his father for one thing, it was having taught him to mask his thoughts. He would show his face at White’s, he would be magnanimous in his defeat and he would act as if it was the biggest jape to have ever been performed. He would give his endorsement to Exeter courting Miss Douglas. Then he would start to look for a bride of his own. He would survive this.

When he reached his door, all the doomsday planning in the world couldn’t stop the hope that Exeter had fled the shop to come straight to Virtue’s rooms instead of going to pay court to Maria Douglas. The front door opened as soon as his foot hit the first step up. His man of all jobs, James greeted him.

“There’s a Mr Douglas waiting for you in the front room, my lord,” he announced, divesting his lord of his greatcoat and hat.

Mr Douglas? Goodness, that was unexpected. He was in no mood for company, but James had proclaimed it so loudly there was little chance of crying off and pretending he wasn’t at home. James had learnt his trade in a grand household and his announcing voice had grown accustomed to cavernous atriums. He’d shown no desire to rein in his vocal talents to befit Virtue’s more modest set of chambers, owing, Virtue supposed, to his much hinted at preference that Lord Virtue lease an elegant townhouse like Lord Exeter’s. James would be quite the irritant if he wasn’t so comely.

Blast.

The door in his mind that he usually kept under lock and key had been left open.

If he had a type in men, then it was much like his type in women. Fair haired and hale. He looked askance at James’s short cropped golden curls. There was no mad lust or the giddy rush he got from being near Exeter, but he could find a pleasing beauty to the man.

Virtue dropped his gloves on the side table in the hall, then snatched them up again, tucking them into his pocket before James could take them. In his guilt, he imagined both they and his hands smelled of Exeter, despite having washed the man’s essence away.

Mr Douglas stood by the bay window, staring out onto the street. He was just as pretty as Virtue remembered. He had come alone and without his sisters. Hopefully Virtue wasn’t about to get his nose broken. But no one else knew the true reason for the bet apart from Exeter. He took a breath to collect himself.

Douglas turned as he entered; he clutched a collection of pamphlets in his hand. Virtue instantly regretted exchanging calling cards with him and stiffened himself to be fleeced for some sort of church roof or another. What was it with religious organisations and moral reformers always sending attractive, well-mannered young men round to canvass? Admittedly, he was far more inclined to let them in his home and donate than he would with an old goat shouting bile and piss, but it was rather an underhand trick to play.

He stepped forward with a game smile. “Ah! Douglas! I expect Lord Exeter has gone to call on your house.”

A crease formed in the young man’s brow.

“Today? Whatever for?” he said dismayed. “I had not thought…well, I’d been told that titled folk can wait a week or more before visiting a new acquaintance. I assume his eagerness is for the company of my sisters, yes? And not myself? I had the impression that he didn’t care for my company much.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “At first, I thought it was because I mentioned the prize fight and that he must have bet rather a lot on the other man. But then he threw me the darkest of looks at the theatre. I thought, well, there are some proud manners indeed. Not at all like yours.” He spoke so unguardedly and with the passion of youth, that Virtue winced at the faux pas.

Dark looks? That was news to him. “I can’t think why that would be? He only spoke highly of you and your family after we met,” he gallantly lied. It felt like swallowing glass, but he added, “particularly your eldest sister. I can assure you he meant no offence. He can look a little cold when he’s not smiling and his vanity does not allow him to wear spectacles at the theatre. I’m sure he hardly knew who you were.”

Douglas looked uncertain, but happy enough to believe him.

“Ah, I suppose. My sisters liked him well enough. He’ll find them in high spirits as Mama has finally relented to my sister’s engagement to her soldier sweetheart and I have been this morning to place an announcement with the papers.”

For a moment he was stunned, the next, he was heartily offering his congratulations and shaking Mr Douglas’s hand and calling James to fetch a bottle.

“Yes, some Norwich boy, well man, now, that she’s known all her years. It’s half the reason our mama sent us down here.” Mr Douglas confided. “But my sister can’t be persuaded to change her mind, regardless who she meets. Stubborn and principled truly are the most distressing character traits.” Douglas’s smile was full of love for his sister.

“Do we drink to a love match then?”

“Oh, very much so! In my mind, there’s no other reason to marry!” Douglas said agreeably and with all the assurance of a man with the financial security to do exactly that.

Virtue listened as the young man blabbed on, and raised a toast to Miss Douglas’s happiness.

There’s to be some hope after all.

But then he turned miserable. Miss Douglas might be promised to an entire regiment and it would make no difference if Exeter never spoke to him again. They could have chalked it up to collective folly. A silly story to be brought out to amuse their companions at the card tables, about how they’d once pursued the same woman only to discover her to be already engaged. But not now. He doubted Exeter would sit at the same table as him ever again. Damn it, he’d quit White’s and become a member at Boodle’s instead if it went any way towards appeasing Exeter.

The sound of carriage wheels outside made his head snap towards the window like a stringed marionette. He clicked his tongue in disappointment as a delivery cart went by.