Page 16 of Chasing Benedict
He followed Aubrey out into the shop, noticing that Kit was busy charming a female patron over a tray of fastenings and other baubles. Two young apprentices were busy tidying the shop, while a pair of gentlemen browsed a display of gloves.
The expansion of Aubrey’s shop became more impressive now that Alex allowed himself to really take it in. Rowland-Drake had gone from a small establishment in Cheapside, to a luxurious, sprawling place in the West End.
Alex could hardly fathom it, when he’d known the shop to be heavily in debt and on the brink of failure just three years ago. Curiosity niggled, but he ignored it. Despite their closeness and long friendship, Alex drew the line at probing questions about another man’s finances.
An hour later, he had purchased five different waistcoat fabrics and the buttons to embellish them, a pair of gloves, two mufflers, a hat, embroidered stockings, and burgundy broadcloth for a new coat. His valet would swoon over the new pieces once they were commissioned, and Alex couldn’t deny a little thrill at adding to his already expansive wardrobe. There were so many things about himself he had to keep hidden, but his clothing could always serve as an expression of who he was. His unconventional style often drew stares and murmurs, but no one was ever bold enough to call him out for going against the austere color palette and constricting modes of men’s fashion as dictated by those whose opinions meant nothing to him. It always amused him to see younger men emulating his fashions, sporting yellow-dyed cravats and brightly-colored waistcoats, and patterened stockings—a sure reminder that being an earl came with all manner of influence.
Deep down, he wrestled with the appropriateness of his attire as well as his purchases. Katherine had been gone for just over six months now, and as a man he was freer to shed deep mourning than a widow would be. When guilt plagued Alex, he reminded himself that Katherine would have wanted him to dress like himself again. She had loved helping him select his garments, and seeing him miserable and unable to explore his passion for clothing would have saddened her. Besides, continuing to wear mourning would have only reminded Ben that he’d had a wife—by far the sorest point of contention between them.
Aubrey followed him to his carriage, his apprentices following behind with the wrapped parcels. They had just been handed off to the footman, when another carriage pulled up behind his, followed by a hackney coach.
Every hair on Alex’s body stood on end as he recognized the Sterling family crest emblazoned on the door. He could only stand there holding his breath in anticipation as the footman opened the vehicle to reveal Ben, who fit a hat over his bright blond locks while stepping out, a stark black greatcoat swirling around his ankles. Alex felt as if he’d been punched in the gut when those electric blue eyes landed on him, flaring with recognition first, then heat. An answering need sparked within him, making it damned hard to keep from crossing the distance between them and planting his lips on Ben’s.
Ben’s expression hardened in an instant, eyes going blank as if a pair of shutters had been slammed closed over them. He looked to Aubrey. “Are you busy at the moment? Lyons and I need a word.”
Alex noticed the man who had emerged from the hackney for the first time. He wasn’t nearly Alex’s height, but taller than average and slender, with dark hair pulled back in an unfashionable but flattering queue. His eyes were a light, honeyed shade of brown and his features were pleasing but sharp and cold, his lips drawn tight.
Who was this Lyons fellow, and what was his relationship to Ben and Aubrey? It was ridiculous to be jealous, and he had no right to be annoyed at the thought of Ben having a lover. There was no sense of secrecy or intimacy between them, but Alex had a feeling Lyon wouldn’t let it show if there were. The man had a stoic face, unlike anything Alex had ever seen.
“Not at all,” Aubrey replied, though there was a questioning note in his voice. He was looking from Alex to Ben with unease in his eyes. “The lads and I were just carrying out these packages. Lord Vautrey, this is an associate of myself and Ben, Mr. Lyons. Lyons, this is an old schoolmate of ours, Lord Vautrey.”
Lyons offered him a stiff bow. “My lord.”
“A pleasure,” Alex replied, studying the man closely, then looking to Ben. As looks went, he was certainly Ben’s type—dark-haired, tall and broad without being too bulky. He even seemed to share Ben’s surly disposition.
Alex told himself he was being ridiculous. If Ben had a sweetheart, Aubrey would have told him. Besides, even if he did, Alex could not be put off. Anyone standing between him and Ben would be pushed aside.
“We will wait in your office,” Ben declared before sweeping past Alex and disappearing inside without a look back.
Mr. Lyons followed, leaving him alone with Aubrey. Alex’s questioning look wasn’t answered verbally, and just as he had in the office, he had the sense that Aubrey was holding something back. There was nothing unusual about three men meeting in a place of business during the day, but Alex’s instincts couldn’t be ignored. Something was going on, and curiosity over it was eating him alive.
“Perhaps we could have dinner this evening?” Aubrey said suddenly, as if what had just occurred was of no consequence.
“I am otherwise engaged tonight—a ball at the Duke and Duchess of Avonleah’s house. There will be gossip if I’m not there.”
“Tomorrow, then? I have a friend I would like you to meet, and he’s currently in town.”
“Tomorrow it is. Thank you, Aubrey.”
They clasped hands, and Aubrey tightened his grip before Alex could pull away. “I hope things work out in your favor, Alex. For what it’s worth, I believe it would be good for Ben as well as for you.”
Alex took those final words and locked them away, bolstering his will. Tonight, he would attend the infernal ball and endure sympathetic glances and condolences from people he barely knew. Tomorrow, he would resume his mission.
CHAPTER 4
“The Duke and Duchess of A are hosting a ball this evening in their lavish Grosvenor Square home. This author will be in attendance, so those who intend to be present would should remain on their best behavior, lest you find yourselves the subject of tomorrow’s column.”
-The London Gossip,26 January 1820
“Itake it you’ve called this meeting becauseThe London Gossipis back in circulation,” Aubrey said, once he, Benedict, and Warin were shuttered away inside the office. Beyond the door, Lucinda had taken over helping Kit and the apprentices service an afternoon rush of customers.
Benedict hated to interrupt his friend’s work, but Aubrey would have no livelihood if their involvement with the Gentleman Courtesans was publicly revealed. As far as he was concerned, nothing was more important than stopping that consequence at all costs.
“My scheme to stop her distribution was never going to be permanent,” Benedict replied I only did it to buy some time.”
“Time for what?” Warin asked, his voice low and somber. The man had the austere presence of an undertaker, but made a fine apprentice. Once business had become more than he could handle on his own, Benedict had taken Warin under his wing and taught him the ins and outs of his operation. Warin had become Benedict’s right hand, an extension of him that could be trusted to act in the best interest of the men in their employ.
“To discover her identity,” Benedict murmured. “I knew once I had that information, it could be used to silence her. With the things she’s written about the members of theton, she’s made enemies out of many influential people—present company included.”
