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“It’s so good to see you.”
“Likewise.” Simon Burfield, Earl of Reading, looked him over with raised eyebrows. “I almost didn’t recognize you with the beard, and seeing you looking thinner than the last time I saw you. If it wasn’t for the height, I wouldn’t have recognized you at all.”
Nathan laughed. “You can’t eat like the Prince Regent on the front line. Especially when we had to cut rations after a convoy was attacked.”
“Which is why you need to eat before you head home. But, before that,” Simon picked up Nathan’s bag, “let’s do something about your appearance. There’s a barber’s shop nearby. You can clean yourself up before heading home.”
“I don’t know.” Nathan rubbed his beard. The bristles tickled his fingers. “I was beginning to like having a beard.”
Simon laughed. “And you’ll give your mother a fit. Come on.”
Nathan picked up his rifle and followed. He wasn’t about to argue. He had written to his mother to let her know when he was coming home, but he had also written a letter to Simon to make him aware of the time he would be coming into London off the merchant ship. His closest friend was his confidant, and he would need Simon’s advice and help while back home. Simon always had his ear to the ground. A perfect mole for Nathan when he was in France.
Hopefully, Simon would have a bit more insight on his mother’s antics.
They headed into the barber’s shop, where the barber gave Nathan one look and urged him immediately to sit in a chair. Nathan felt a shiver of fear as he settled back to look up at the ceiling while the man put a towel around his neck and chest before massaging shaving cream onto his beard, but he fought it back. He wasn’t going to die. Things were going to be fine.
“Are you all right, Nathan?” Simon was looking at him oddly. “You look like you’re about to jump out of that chair.”
“I’m fine.” Nathan gripped the arms of the chair. “It’s been a while since I had a shave. I’ve become a little less...trusting.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry. Marco shaves me all the time and I can safely say you’re in good hands.”
Nathan still braced himself as Marco began to shave him. Marco said something in Italian and swatted Nathan’s hand before he carried on.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing that’s worth repeating.”
Nathan could imagine. He waited until Marco had finished shaving his beard off, leaving him the most clean-shaven he had been in months. Then Marco straightened up the chair and moved behind Nathan with some scissors, setting to work on trimming Nathan’s long locks. Simon was still sitting in the chair beside him, reading through the letter Nathan had received from Vanity. Nathan had put it into his letter to Simon, asking him to investigate the Dowager Countess’ behaviour and if there was any fact to it. Simon was not a gossip, but he was so good at gathering information it was remarkable.
“What do you think of it?” Nathan asked.
“I do agree with you. Something’s not right at all.” Simon lowered the letter. “Lady Vanity isn’t dying, that’s for sure, as I’ve seen her out and about as normal. Her health hadn’t been harmed. But there is something on her mind it seems.”
“You’ve actually spoken to her?”
Simon snorted. “You know she and I don’t get along. I’ve had to observe her from a distance. But you can see it in her expression. Lady Brixton is distracted. I’m not sure what with, but it’s enough to knock her off her usual persona.”
Nathan grunted. “I didn’t think she was dying. Something is going on here, Simon. Any idea as to what it might be?”
“Not off the top of my head. Maybe her reputation has been threatened.”
“At her age?” Nathan laughed. “You think she was caught in a compromising position with a man?” Then an image flashed through his mind and that cut off the laughter abruptly with Nathan grimacing. “I wish I hadn’t said that now.”
Chapter Eight
“Same here.” Simon shuddered. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean something that happened recently. This could have happened a long time ago when she was a young girl, or something that happened while your father was still alive, and it’s only just coming to light now. You know what your mother is like. Anything that portrays her as less than perfect and she’s going to panic.”
And with good reason. Nathan had heard when he was a boy about the man his mother had been about to marry beating her. Vanity had taken the initiative to leave and go back to her family, who she had been cut off from for months. Normally, when an engagement was broken, the woman was often looked at as the one at fault, but after seeing the bruises on Vanity and the damage that had happened, everyone had been up in arms about the former beau. He had been run out of London.
That had died down after a while, and Nathan knew that this wouldn’t have Vanity distracted. Unless the former betrothed was back in London after all this time and was threatening her. That could account for her sounding so scared in her letter.
It was the only thing that Nathan could think of right now.
“I’ll see if I can get some answers out of her when I get home.” He inspected himself in the mirror across the room, rubbing a hand over his smooth jaw. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to find out what’s going on that had her dragging me away from the front line.”
“I’ve never known anyone so eager to get back to a war as you,” Simon commented with a slight smile.
