Page 44 of Vanquished By A Viscount
That feeling of rightness continued after Olivier arrived to lay out his clothing for the day and to help him dress. The man knew everything, Charlie was certain, but he seemed as pleased with Charlie’s new contentment as Charlie was.
By the time Charlie was dressed and had brushed his hair to make himself as presentable as possible, before going downstairs, Pettigrew was already in the breakfast room, reading a letter that must have just been delivered. Lady Patience was there as well, her chaperone, Miss Kennedy, sipping coffee and keeping a sharp eye on her, as if she had done or was in danger of doing something she should not have.
Charlie greeted them and took a seat at the table, his spirits as light as the birdsong coming in through the windows from the garden. When Gray entered the room, his heart soared even higher. Gray did not even try to hide the fondness in his smile as he took a seat next to Pettigrew and launched into a discussion about the fishing expedition they had planned for that day.
Even when Robert and then Barbara joined the company in the breakfast room, the mood stayed light and amiable, though the two sat at opposite ends of the table and only looked at the other when they thought they were not being watched.
All was well.
For an hour.
Breakfast had just broken up when the butler, Prescott, stepped into the breakfast room doorway and announced to Robert, “My lord, Mr. Howard Bradford is here to see you.”
Charlie perked up and turned quickly away from Lady Sandridge, who he’d somehow fallen into conversation with. He knew the name well. Bradford was one of the officers of the South Eastern Railway with whom he’d had a great deal of correspondence.
“Good,” Robert said with a nod, as if Bradford was expected. “Send him to my study. I shall be along shortly.”
Charlie blinked. So Robert had not been making things up when he said he had urgent business with the railroad.
What caught Charlie’s attention as well was the way Gray had gone rigid at Bradford’s name. And not with the same sort of interest that Charlie felt. If anything, Gray suddenly looked terrified. His face had gone splotchy, and when he peeked at Charlie, a wariness filled his eyes.
Charlie frowned slightly at his lover, but he was distracted as Robert rose and walked around the table. “Might I join you?” he asked, pushing his chair back and standing. “I have been engaged in business with Mr. Bradford myself for some time now and would like to greet him.”
“Yes, of course,” Robert said with a smile.
Charlie felt a glimmer of hope as Robert glanced back down the table, meeting Barbara’s eyes with a tender, possibly apologetic look. Barbara met it with a sad expression and lowered her head to stare at her plate. It was not a beautiful moment of reconciliation, but at least the two of them were no longer at each other’s throats.
It was Gray’s reaction that took Charlie more by surprise. Gray rose quickly, pushing back his chair with a jerk that nearly knocked it over, and rushing to join Robert and Charlie as they exited the breakfast room.
“Are you interested in railroad business as well?” Charlie asked him with a sly grin as the three men left the room and headed across to the other wing of the house and Robert’s study.
“I, er, yes,” Gray said, agitated for some reason. “You know I have always been interested in the railway business.”
An old kernel of dread tightened in Charlie’s gut. It was true. He and Gray had developed their interest in the new and expanding railway together years ago. That did not stop him from feeling as if something else were the matter, however.
Charlie had never met Howard Bradford in person, though he had corresponded frequently with the man over the last few years. He had imagined Bradford would be the same sort of paunchy, middle-aged, industrialist with receding hair and massive sideburns that seemed to predominate in the industry. He was surprised to find that Bradford, while middle-aged, was tall, fit, and handsome. The silver at his temples made him look distinguished rather than old, and when he turned from where he stood by the bookshelves at the far end of the study, saw them, and smiled, even Charlie’s committed heart purred a bit at the man’s appeal.
“Mr. Bradford,” Robert greeted the man, stepping forward and stretching out a hand. “Welcome to Hawthorne House.”
“It is my pleasure to be here,” Bradford said in return, his voice deep and rich. He took Robert’s hand and shook it. “You have a magnificent house and lovely grounds.”
Robert chuckled with pride, already charmed by the man. “Allow me to introduce my brother, Mr. Grayson Hawthorne, and my wife’s brother, whom I believe you’ve corresponded with, Lord Charles Aspenden, Viscount Broxbourne.”
Bradford let go of Robert’s hand and offered his to Charlie, who was standing nearest to him, but his eyes lit with something more than just politeness when he glanced past Charlie to Gray. “We’ve met,” he said, his rich voice dropping to a sensual tone.
With those two words, the bottom dropped out of Charlie’s stomach. He pulled his hand out of Bradford’s and took a step back, ostensibly so Bradford could move past him to greet Gray. Bradford had eyes for no one else in the room as he approached Gray and took his hand, not just in an ordinary handshake, but with both of his, as though in holding Gray’s hand he was holding a treasure.
Gray cleared his throat, his color high, and choked out, “Bradford.”
“Come now,” Bradford said. “There is no need for such formality. Not between old friends.”
“The two of you are acquainted?” Robert asked carefully, sending Charlie a worried look.
“Yes, we are,” Gray said with what looked like a forced attempt to appear casual. “From years ago.”
“It was not that long ago,” Bradford said, raking Gray with a gaze. “Not that long ago at all. We met in Italy.”
“Have you come to discuss the railroad?” Gray asked quickly and a bit too loudly.
