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“I didn’t leave the lady,” Reginald replied. “I left the Marquisate.”
“But you leftbecauseof the lady,” Charles clarified. “I realize you’re a different man from me. I rather think all women are the same. My only interest in them is ratherphysicalin nature.”
Matthew very graciously didn’t remind Reginald thathe’d foretold the disastrous ending of Reginald’s marriage to Marcella.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Reginald said.
Charles howled in laughter and slapped Reginald heartily on his back. “I have missed your sense of humor. I have! But if a wealthy, beautiful lady wanted to marry me and give me her fortune, so I could live on an estate and never return to Southwark, I justmightconsider staying with her. That’s quite an offer.”
Reginald downed his drink, grimacing at the bitter, watery taste. It seemed as though his short absence had been enough time for him to lose his love for the cheap beer which had once been so familiar to him. “I care about the lady,” he said. “Very deeply. That was why I had to leave. She will manage well enough without me, and I doubt that we have ever had a happy marriage. It was built on a foundation of lies, and as Matthew has often reminded me, such a foundation is doomed to crumble.”
Charles snorted. “I wouldn’t takehisadvice on marriage. Why, just look at the awful creature he married! Mrs. Smythe’s tongue is as sharp as a whip.”
“My wife is the most perfect of women,” Matthew said defensively.
Charles smirked. “You only say that because you worry she’ll flay you with her words when you return.”
“Just because you don’t like a sharp-tongued lady doesn’t mean none of us do,” Edward said. “I think I would like one.”
Reginald arched an eyebrow. “Would you?”
Edward grinned. “Definitely. Those are always the best ones in the bed.”
“I can think of better uses for a lady’s—” Charles began.
“Well,” Reginald said, “I think I’ll take my leave for the night. Shall we meet in the morning?”
“You’d better make it noon!” Edward declared cheerfully. “I’ve only just gotten into my cups, and I’m not leaving them any time soon.”
“Noon, then,” Reginald agreed. “The usual place?”
“Works for me,” Charles said. “I may bring a friend.”
Byfriend, he meant his bed-companion from the night before. Reginald raised an eyebrow at Edward who nodded. “Don’t run back to Hurrow on us, eh?”
“I’ve no reason to,” Reginald replied.
He could think of one very compelling reason, actually, but he was trying desperately to forget her.
After paying the money and a little extra for the barmaid, Reginald left the alehouse. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, which was far too nice for the life he intended to live now. Reginald had no particular destination. Of course, he’d have to inevitably find some place to stay for the night, but at the moment, he was content to wander the familiar streets of Southwark.
This part of London was alive with laughter of crowds leaving theaters and guests entering bawdy houses. Drunken couples mingled on the street with those returning home late from their work. Everything was so cheerful, so desperate, and so utterlyalive.
A woman’s scream cut the air, and the shrill sound seemed to stab right into Reginald’s heart. He froze.
It can’t be her.
He was just imagining that it sounded like Marcella’s voice. She would have no reason to be in Southwark, unless she’d come after him. But she wouldn’t have. Surely, if she’d wanted to come after him, Marcella would have sent someone to fetch him. She never would’ve done something so careless as to come by herself.
No, that’s exactly the sort of thing she’d do.
Reginald felt his blood run cold. His heart pounded madly. Without another thought, he ran towards the direction of that scream. And when a panicked, shrill yell followed, he quickened his pace. Reginald ran across the street, nearly missing the spooked horse who hurried past him.
“Leave me at once!”
Marcella. She was really there. The lady stood proudly, her chin raised and her eyes defiant, despite the three ruffians who approached her. One stepped forward from the others and brandished a knife. Marcella only straightened. Whether she meant to fight wasn’t clear, but it was apparent that she wouldn’t win.
Reginald’s blood boiled. “The ladysaidleave her alone, and I suggest you do as she says.”
