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Turning back to the servant, he used the excuse of taking another glass to deposit two coins on the man’s tray. By sleight of hand that should have been on the stage, the man made both disappear without the tray even wobbling. Harold turned away, sipping at the champagne. An eddy in the crowd revealed Simon Hathway walking towards him determinedly. Harold sighed, taking another flute from the tray, and holding it out as Simon reached him.
“Lindley. Take a drink. It is quite excellent.”
Simon’s eyes flashed, his mouth twisted angrily, then he looked around, remembering where he was. He smiled with compressed lips and took the flute.
“Thank you. Redwood. Where is my sister?”
“I believe that Italian gentleman wanted to show her some art.”
“What were you speaking to her about?”
“Passing the time of day.”
“Stay away from her.”
Harold had to make his fingers relinquish their hold on the stem of the flute, before it snapped clean through. He forced a smile, though his teeth were gritted.
“Look here. You are proceeding under a misapprehension. The behavior you ascribe to me, you do so erroneously. I am not my father nor am I responsible for his ruthlessness. In fact, I deplore it. As for your brother…”
“You will keep his name out of your mouth,” Simon snapped.
“Careful, old boy. You will draw attention to us,” Harold said smoothly. “I care not. But, you, I suspect, care deeply.”
Simon sipped the wine and looked around. In a lower tone, he said, “Do not mention his name. That is all.”
“I gave up Eloise,” Harold said. “I loved her but she loved him. I gave her up and then left England to try and forget about her. I am not responsible for her death,” Harold said, almost whispering.
“I do not believe you,” Simon replied. “Now, my sister has a chance at a good match. I will not allow you to poison that simply for sport. If I see you in her company again, I will call you out there and then.”
Harold wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. But the intensity in Simon’s eyes stopped him.
“Did you ever serve, Lindley? In the army or the navy? Have you ever killed a man? I have. Many. And not all of them wore the uniform of the enemy. I am not bragging, merely advising caution.”
“Just stay away from her!” Simon hissed.
Harold knew that the sensible thing to do was to acquiesce. Tell this hothead whatever he wanted to hear and then go his own way regardless. This moment was another leap across a gully for no reason other than the need to win. He had stopped himself before from making the leap, reining in his recklessness just as he did his charging horse. But not this time.
“I would not take such an order from the Regent himself, let alone you,” Harold said.
CHAPTER20
The gallery was a long hallway, wide and high, festooned with paintings. They seemed to be hung wherever space could be found, large and small until the entire length of the walls, and even the ceilings were completely covered. Alice gasped as she saw it. Lamps lit the room, casting a flickering amber glow. It reflected from mirrors hung at either end of the hall and interspersed between canvases here and there.
“It is something, no?” Angelo said as they rounded a bend in the stairs and stepped into the hallway.
“Truly beautiful,” Alice breathed. “I wish Harold had accompanied us.”
Angelo looked at her with a curious smile. “It is Harold, then?”
Alice was not sure what he was saying at first, then realized the slip she had made. Color blossomed in her cheeks.
“I am acquainted with the Duke and he himself gave me leave to use his given name. I think he can be quite casual with…”
Angelo’s smile broadened. “I hear that he is quite formal in fact. You would be the only person I have come across that makes use of his given name. I am glad though.”
They began to walk along the hallway. At the far end, Alice recognized Rafe. He stood with a glass in one hand, the other behind his back, gazing up at a painting and seemingly unaware of their presence.
“Why are you glad? About what?” Alice asked.
