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After a visit to the barracks didn’t bear any fruit, Harry set off for a club he knew Adam still frequented, the Masque.
He remembered it less than fondly from his time in London with his uncle, when he had been offered the services of a woman to help him perfect his skills in the bedchamber. He thought, with a tug at his lips, that he had done well enough without any extra tuition. There had been women aplenty while he was heartbroken over Sophy, and he hadn’t had any complaints.
The Masque looked even seedier in daylight but at least the thieves and pickpockets that lurked in the alleyways were still in bed. A sleepy eyed boy answered the door and went off to find someone who might know if Adam was there. Eventually his brother appeared, dishevelled, reeking of perfume, and clearly hung over. When he heard about the invitation he groaned, but shrugged into his jacket and obediently fell into step with his older brother.
“Why won’t the wretched woman leave me alone?” he asked the sky above. “I was perfectly happy until she set her sights on me.”
Harry tried not to laugh. “It won’t be so bad,” he said. “A pretty face to come home to at night and wake up with in the mornings.”
“I don’t need to marry for that,” Adam grumbled.
“You won’t always be young and good looking,” Harry went on, taking on the role of older brother with gusto.
“You take that back!”
“And what about children? Don’t you want a son to look up to you?”
“The way we look up to our father?” he retorted. Then, with a sigh, “Is that
why you’re getting married? To secure the inheritance of Pendleton?”
Harry tried to imagine a son in his image, but all he could see was a little boy with Sophy’s fair hair and blue eyes. He groaned to himself and increased his speed.
Adam caught him up, eyeing him curiously. “What?” he asked. “Hit a nerve?”
“No. I …” He ran his hands through his hair and stopped, staring at his brother. “I want to marry Evelyn, I do. I love her. She’s perfect for me and Pendleton. But ever since I saw Sophy at Albury House I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s there, all the time. I can push her out during the day, usually, but at night. God, at night …”
Last night had been particularly bad. He’d dreamed he’d been back in the alcove with Sophy, but this time they’d been alone. She had begun to kiss him, her mouth on his skin, her tongue warm and wet. He’d been helpless to resist her, even knowing the guests were just beyond the draperies, and the truth was he hadn’t wanted to.
Adam squinted against the light, his eyes red and puffy. A cab rumbled by, splashing up water that narrowly missed them. “Sophy?” he echoed, trying to hold back a grin.
They walked for a moment in silence. “She’s not married, is she?” Harry said, and it wasn’t a question. “She never was married.”
“She says not. You know Sir Geoffrey is—”
“An elderly friend of her grandmother. I do now.”
Adam smirked. “So she told you?” His expression turned serious. “I don’t know what you saw, Harry, but it was obviously wrong. All this time you’ve been under a misapprehension, old boy.”
Harry grunted. Why had he believed the worst? Maybe it was the intimacy of the scene, and the seeds already planted in his head by his father, no matter how much he tried to deny them. Afterwards he’d turned and walked away, blind to his surroundings. Empty. The pain had come later.
“Speaking of Sophy, as we were, I saw her the other night at the theatre. She was there with James Abbott. They seemed very cosy.”
“Then I wish she would marry him. Maybe then I could stop thinking about her.”
“Have you tried working out your frustration on other women? I find it helps. Just close your eyes and picture Sophy’s face when you push your cock into—”
“No! I have every intention of being a faithful husband to Evelyn.”
“You’re not married yet,” Adam pointed out.
“I’m sure once Evelyn and I are married everything will be all right. It’s just the waiting and being away from Pendleton. You know how I feel about London.” He frowned. “By the way what did you tell Evelyn about Sophy?”
“Not much. It was the night of your engagement, after you went tearing off after her. Your fiancé was understandably miffed. I said Sophy was someone from the past, brushed it off. Why? Is she suspicious there’s more to it, Harry? I wonder why,” he added in a mutter.
Harry glared but didn’t bother to answer.
Quietly, Adam walked by his side. After a moment he waved down another cab, and the two men climbed inside. “I don’t want to tell you what’s what, Harry,” he said when they were settled. “I’m sure you know your own mind. But let me say this, as someone who has known you all your life and wants only the best for you.”
