A Secret Consequence For The Viscount

Nick laughed at that and liked the sound of it. ‘And I gather that the winner of such an unusual prize was yourself?’

‘Fortunately.’

They both took a drink and listened to the low rumbling noise of the busy house.

‘Georgie was promised in marriage to Sir Nash Bowles and doing her level best to get out of it. It was the only plan she could think of. Unwise but spectacularly successful.’ Frederick’s laugh was deep.

‘Bowles was there? At the club?’

‘He was.’ Fred had sobered now at mention of that name, the good humour of a second ago fading markedly.

‘One of the last things I remember is warning him to never darken its door again, but he obviously returned.’

‘My wife sees him as perverted and cruel.’

‘And I would agree with her.’

‘Well, the one thing I do thank him for is his threats to unmask her completely. It was only because she thought she might be shunned as a pariah when the ton got wind of her improper plan that she agreed to marry me.’

‘A wise choice.’ Nick lifted his glass and finished the brandy before placing it down on the table beside him and refusing Frederick’s offer of another. ‘The world you all live in has changed a lot since I have been gone.’

‘And you have changed in appearance since last night. Jacob’s barber is a magician, by the way.’

‘The bath helped, too. The Westmoor physician also came this morning to see to my hand. He says he expects it to heal completely if I am careful.’

‘Knife wounds can be difficult things.’

‘The blade hit the bone at the back of the wrist, but at least it did not break.’

‘Which explains the sling. If you don’t want to be thrown into society so quickly by coming tonight, Nick, I will understand. After the army it was hard for me to fit straight back in.’

‘Because you felt different? Out of place?’

‘Yes, and because I had seen things that no one else could even imagine.’

Frederick was quiet then and Nicholas was glad of it.

‘I had thought to go to ground, but if I don’t come tonight it will only get harder. Better to get it over and done with. I saw Lady Eleanor yesterday, too, by the way.’ He tried to keep interest out of his words though he was not certain he had succeeded as Frederick looked up. ‘What is her story?’

‘Jake is very tight lipped about his sister, but from what I can gather the man she married was from a well-thought-of family in Edinburgh. The Robertsons.’

‘Was it the family of the Robertson boy we knew at school, then?’

‘No, by all accounts he was not related to them. Douglas Robertson, Eleanor’s husband, was killed falling off a horse, apparently in some hunting accident, and when Eleanor found out she was pregnant she came home to Millbrook to have her baby daughter, Lucy. And to grieve.’

Lucy. Nick stored the name inside him and thought how hard a path that must have been for a sheltered duke’s daughter with all the promise in the world.

A bit like him, perhaps, although his promise had been dimming even before his absence from England. His uncle had encouraged him into the profligate and debauched underworld of the ton and he had gone in to welcome the inherent risks with his eyes wide open.

‘Do you ever think, Fred, that maybe we were fools back then, playing so hard and fast?’

‘I think you and Oliver were the ones who were the worst of us although you held the biggest share in Vitium et Virtus and gambled away the most money.’

‘It was fun until it wasn’t,’ he returned and stood to look out of the window. ‘I will go up to Bromworth House tomorrow and see my uncle.’

‘Take my carriage.’

‘Oliver offered me the use of his yesterday.’

‘Will you live there this time, do you think? Put down roots and stay?’

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders because he truly did not know.

‘My advice would be to find a wife like mine, Nick. A woman who can be the better half of you, for without Georgiana at my side I’d still be lost.’

As I am, Nicholas thought, and felt the shiver of ghosts walk down his spine.

Frederick leant forward, swirling the brandy around in his glass. ‘We can move the club on into other hands, younger ones. It’s probably past time.’

‘Do you have anyone in mind?’

‘Half the upcoming bucks of the ton would jump to it in a second, but it has to be the right people. A group of friends like us maybe, people who could work together.’ He smiled, his brown eyes soft. ‘For so long we all feared you were dead, Nick. For so long we talked of you with sorrow and regret even as we relived your wildest exploits. It is good to have you back again and in one piece.’

‘Well, perhaps not quite one piece, Frederick.’ That truth settled between them.

‘The bits will come back to you, but give it time and don’t force it. One day you will rise in the morning and realise life is easier and that the demons that once threatened to engulf you are more distant.’

‘Less insistent?’

‘Then you will also understand that life carries on, different from before maybe but still valuable, and that there are people in the world who never stopped loving you. Myself included.’

Frederick waited until he nodded before carrying on.

‘But enough of this maudlin emotion and confession, for I think we now need to get down to this afternoon’s business and find you some more appropriate clothes to wear.’

Thus the mundane allowed an end to the extraordinary truths of the conversation.

* * *

Nicholas could not remember ever taking this long to dress, but the Challenger valet was both insistent and persuasive and, although he had no clothes of his own to speak of, the man soon conjured up an array of cast-offs that fitted him well.

‘Just a slight tuck here, my lord.’ His grip was firm on the side seam of the jacket. ‘You don’t quite have the girth of Major Challenger. The trousers have been lengthened, but a good steam has taken care of any tell-tale signs of alteration. They give a fine impression of being your own clothes, Lord Bromley. Tailored to perfection if I might say so myself.’

‘Thank you.’ He gave this quietly. It had been years since he had had a servant fuss over him in such a way and it made him feel strangely odd. He had never given those who worked for the Bromley estate much thought before, but now he did. He hoped his uncle had treated them well and that there might be a few familiar faces at the Manor when he went up there on the morrow.

The luxury of London unsettled him and he fought for a touchstone. He wondered if Eleanor Huntingdon might come to Frederick’s soirée with her brother. He would like to see her dressed in finery with her hair arranged to show off the colour of it. He would like to dance with her. He would like to have her near.

Frederick came into the room he had been assigned just as the valet had finished the last stitch and broken off the thread, smoothing down the fabric.