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“Everyone knows he’s ‘dubious’ but no one’s going to do a damn thing about him. He’s London’s best-dressed bachelor.” He rolled his eyes hard and turned so he could shake a finger at Reginald, his disgust becoming more and more obvious. “Not a single person likes him but he’s on everyone’s guest list. He isn’t even a lord. He just decided he was, but they’re all too scared to give him the cut.”

“Of course. As they should be,” Reginald added proudly. “And what do you know about me?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dudley looked befuddled again so Reginald rolled a hand airily. “I’m curious about how we’re perceived by our peers. Please, be completely honest,” Reginald insisted. “Be as brutal as you wish. Let me have it.”

“Have what?”

“Your honest opinion.”

“Oh…” Dudley’s head pulled back as he considered. “Are you sure? I do remember what you were like when we were children,” he warned.

“That’s even better!” Reginald laughed and gave Dudley’s knee another playful slap. “Tell me what you really think.”

“Well… I would say that you have a brilliant mind and you obviously have a bright political future ahead of you.”

“Obviously,” Reginald said with a superior sniff. “There’s a but. I want to hear that.”

“Very well.” There was a pause before Reginald heard him chortle. Dudley had been waiting a while to unburden himself, Reginald assumed. “You’re also a cold, opportunistic, manipulative pillock. Some think you’d make a good prime minister one day but I know you’re too enamored with yourself, your horses, and your money.”

“Brilliant!” Reginald was delighted as he got up and went after Lavender.

“Is that it, Marston?”

Reginald turned on his heel so he could walk backward. “You’ve been very helpful but I’m afraid I have to go. I’ve only known you for a few minutes and that was far too long.” He waved and spun back around.

He found Lavender in the foyer, being helped into his overcoat. Lavender popped up the collar and narrowed his eyes at Reginald.

“I told you not to follow me.”

“I have to, sir. You’re all I’ve got,” Reginald said and Lavender tapped the brim of his top hat against his palm.

“You may ride with me but you will go on to your own lodgings,” he said tightly, then bowed at the doorman before jogging down the club’s steps and into a waiting coach. Reginald ran out after him but shielded his face at the icy blast. He’d left his overcoat and hat in the club but didn’t bother going back because it didn’t matter. Reginald couldn’t freeze to death in a dream and waking up was the worst that could happen. “Truly. What are you on about Marston?” Lavender asked once they were in the cabin of the coach and moving.

“How can I be this cold?” Reginald wondered out loud. His teeth chattered as he rubbed his hands together. “I’m trapped in my worst nightmare but there’s something here my brain wants me to find. As far as I can deduce, the best thing for me to do is to just go with it and see where my subconscious takes me.”

“Fascinating,” Lavender murmured. He rubbed his chin and Reginald envied Lavender’s sleek black leather gloves. “And this ‘subconscious’ has brought you to me?”

“As it often does. You or Paul,” Reginald said with a shrug.

“Who’s Paul?”

“My husband and my other reason for living. I’m devoted to both of you, you know.” He sounded a touch defensive but Reginald knew Lavender often wondered.

“Your husband!” Lavender laughed and sat forward so he could search Reginald’s face in the dim coach. “You’re being serious,” he whispered.

“Yes! We both have them, if you can believe that!” Reginald whispered in return, making Lavender humph thoughtfully as he sat back.

“I can’t. And what else does this subconscious want you to do?” He sounded skeptical but curious. Reginald chuckled as he reclined and tucked his hands under his arms to warm them up. Freud wouldn’t explain the subconscious or invent psychoanalysis until the 1900s so Reginald would sound like he was raving.

“It wants me to get close to Lord Winterstone. What can you tell me about him?”

“Winterstone?” Lavender’s head canted. “Fascinating and dangerous. What’s your interest in Winterstone?”

“Can’t be sure,” Reginald admitted and held up his hands before jamming them back under his arms. “I’m just following the trail wherever it leads. And waiting for Paul. He should be along shortly.”

“That you should even suggest a meeting with Winterstone is absurd.”

“Why, sir?” Reginald asked excitedly, earning an exasperated snort from Lavender.

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