Page 69 of Five Nights with a Rakish Duke
“I’m sorry?” Penelope said, too distracted by the coldness of the touch to follow what he had said.
“This necklace…” He pointed at the emerald pendant. “I do not remember seeing it before. Where is the locket that I purchased for you?”
“In my jewelry box,” she said, bringing a smile to her lips, trying her best to ignore how false it felt. “This was a gift. From… Veronica.” She hoped the lie sounded real, even though it sounded very fake indeed to her own ears.
“I hope you liked the locket?” he asked gently.
“I do; I truly do,” she said, smiling, knowing soon she would have to take off the emerald and start wearing the locket for good. “I should go. If we are to court, it would be very improper for me to stay here with you alone.”
“Stay another minute, Penelope. Please.” Adam moved closer again, so close that she could smell his scent. It was musty, tinged with a little tobacco. She didn’t really like it, and it made her nose curl.
He bent down to her again as though he would kiss her. The action merely made her think of when Asher’s lips had last touched hers.
“No, I really should go,” she said, stepping away from Adam and slipping her hand out of his grasp. She hurried to the doorway and looked back at him once, doing her best to offer another smile. He returned it, but there was clearly something off in his manner.
He had noticed her awkwardness and the way she was running from him. “Good night, Adam.”
“Good night, Penelope.”
* * *
“This way; not that way,” Dorian’s words were barely heard by Asher. He merely felt two hands take his arms and drag him back down the road another way. It was a dark night, with the gas lamps in the street barely bright enough to light their way, Asher stumbled along the cobbles.
“The ground is moving,” he muttered angrily.
“No, that’s just you unable to stand straight,” Vincent said and took Asher’s arm, steering him forward again. “Good god, this is worse than I have ever seen you!”
“I feel the tables are turned,” Dorian said quietly. Asher couldn’t quite see him, but he was aware of Dorian’s voice coming from somewhere behind him.
“What do you mean?” Vincent asked.
“There was a time when Asher had to drag me away from a brandy glass. I didn’t expect to be returning the favor at any point.”
“Happy now?” Asher asked, slurring his words. He spun around with his arms outstretched to find Dorian’s face, somehow knocking Vincent’s grasp on his arm off him. “I have joined you in your misery.”
“If you are this heartbroken, Asher, then it’s time to do something about it,” Dorian said, walking past him.
“If I am not mistaken, there is little sympathy in your face,” Asher said, following him.
“Maybe I can see how foolish I was myself when I was in your position. Drinking is no way to handle this, Asher. You cannot live a life like this. You want a mended heart? Fine, then go and mend it.”
“Penny wants nothing to do with me!” Asher cried, still following.
“Penny? Not even Lady Penelope?” Vincent laughed. “You are besotted, Asher.”
“I am not!” he cried, not really aware of where he was walking. All he knew was that he had to get away from his friends. Now. He needed time alone. He stumbled away from them, off a cobbled pavement and into a street.
“Where are you going?” Dorian called after him, though his voice did not follow. He stayed firmly on the pavement with Vincent at his side.
“Away from the two of you,” Asher said wryly. “I’m tired of you stealing my brandy off me.”
“Fine, drink yourself to death then,” Dorian said.
“Dorian!” Vincent’s voice was sharp.
“He needs waking out of this, Vincent. That is all.”
Asher barely took note of the conversation. He was aware of carriage wheels clacking against the cobbles, somewhere nearby.
