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“A good girl would not be here, helping you,” she pointed out.
“True.”
They waited another hour. The men finished their ales, ordered more, growing increasingly agitated.
“They just keep saying they’ll have to go to him if he does not arrive. I do not think they want to wait much longer.”
“They are not alone,” Blake muttered.
“I imagine there are many other places you would like to be tonight.”
She said this more to remind herself that if he were not here he would likely be in the arms of a beautiful woman tonight. If she did not, she might find herself imagining this going further than one meeting. Jacob Blake was never going to love her and she should remember that.
He gave a shrug and offered a tilted smile. “It’s not been too terrible actually. The company is rather excellent, after all.”
She ducked her head, certain she must be blushing. “Shall we leave?” she forced herself to ask when the three men gave up and exited the building.
Draining the last of his drink, he winced, set the glass down, and nodded. “Yes, there is no sense in waiting any longer.”
She pushed down the sense of disappointment. He was only using her to find out about his cousin, a fact she should not forget.
***
“I cannot say I would not be annoyed at the boy.” Ashford led the way to their usual table at Boodle’s. He motioned for two drinks, shoved back a chair, and sat with his usual ease.
Blake tapped his fingers on the table and drained the whisky as soon as it was placed in front of him. He requested another. Far superior to the muck he’d forced down only yesterday.
Ashford’s brows lifted. “Are you looking for someone?”
Blake leaned back against the leather chair and forced his attention away from the doorway. “I heard my cousin gained membership here.” He pressed his lips together. “Now I have no chance of avoiding the bastard.”
“Is he a bastard, though?”
“Yes, damn it. I just told you he scared a boy witless.”
“According to Demeter and goodness knows, I do not wish to malign her, but she could have been wrong. I have a suspicion lots of things scare her.”
Blake shook his head. “You are entirely wrong.”
Leaning forward, Ashford took a sip of his drink and cradled the crystal glass. “Blake, we all know Iris’s death was hard on you—”
“Oh, don’t you start.”
“It’s natural you should be feeling out of sorts. She was the closest thing to a mother you had, and—”
“Ashford,” Blake warned.
“She was there when you needed her, when your father was being an utter blackguard to you.” Ashford fixed him with a look that reminded him of that one his mother had given him. He didn’t like it one jot. “Now she is gone, you have no one.”
“I have you,” he pointed out bitterly. “Though I am not sure I want you right now.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And I have my mother now, for the first time in my life.” Blake shrugged. “Lord knows what that’s about.”
“Seems like she’s had an attack of conscience.”
“I’d rather she stayed away, like before. It was much easier that way.”
