Page 47 of A Gentleman's Wager
Joshua shrugged on his greatcoat. “Yes. I’ve business in Richmond, and a few days in town should give Frederick’s temper a chance to cool. Plus, it will give us some time to sort out this nonsense with Louisa.
“It’ll do you both good,” he continued, as he patted Lucerne’s shoulder. “The bruises will be gone by the time we’re back, and heads will be clearer too.”
“I suppose.” Lucerne rubbed his aching jaw. Freddy was already in the carriage. He’d hoped for a chance to sort out last night’s muddle and retract some of his remarks, but the other man showed no inclination to talk.
“You’ve a nasty gash there,” remarked Joshua, and Lucerne came back to the present. He had one cut on his cheekbone that he was hoping wouldn’t scar.
“Quite. How’s Freddy?”
“Some nice bumps, and a beautiful black eye,” Joshua replied tactfully. “I trust honour is satisfied?”
Lucerne broke eye contact.
“Now, Lucerne,” Joshua’s expression became unusually serious. “I’m going to have to leave Louisa and my sister under your protection. I could send them home to Wyndfell, but I know my sister, she’d be back before nightfall by one means or another. Can I trust you to make sure that decorum is observed?”
“Of course. You have my word.” Lucerne replied, surprised and flattered by his request. He wondered what had built such an understanding between brother and sister. In the city, it would be unthinkable to leave a respectable, unchaperoned, unmarried lady in the care of a man to whom she wasn’t related. The countryside apparently had its own rules. That or Rushdale was trying to manipulate a match. He generously gave him the benefit of the doubt. Of course, now that he’d given his word, he’d have to behave himself, at least until Joshua returned. As if he didn’t already have enough relationship complexities to negotiate between himself and Vaughan.
“Come back soon,” he called as Joshua sprinted down the steps to the carriage.
Lucerne shut the door against the weather. Only then did he notice Bella on the balcony and Vaughan waiting in the shadows by the library door. He turned his back on them both and strode away. Both mind and body were too sore to face any form of evocation. It was not until the following morn that he had the composure to face either of them.
-32-
Vaughan
“Ah, Aubury. You’ve finally made it,” Lucerne congratulated Charles as he reached the top of the hill, puffing like one of Watts’s steam engines. “Do sit down awhile. Only another three miles to go.”
Too out of breath for a more eloquent reply, Charles resorted to a glare, before he collapsed, wheezing, against a flat stone.
Vaughan allowed himself a smile. He sat perched beside Lucerne on the top of a dry-stone wall, listening to the wind whip around them. The sky had finally cleared after days of downpours, with only a few fluffy white clouds remaining. He’d been relieved to find Lucerne in his usual spirits this morning, following an entire day of sullenness. The long walk, he gathered, was meant to clear the air. Vaughan supposed it was working after a fashion, given that the exercise was likely to kill Charles. For his part, what he felt, what he wanted from Lucerne would not be blown away by a fresh breeze. This, what existed between them, was not some fanciful notion born of a moment and easily cast aside. It was years in the making. Eventually, Lucerne would have to reconcile himself. He could not turn a blind eye to reality forever.
Vaughan leaned towards his friend and plucked a stray fern from his hair. In response, a nervous smile twitched about the viscount’s lips. Was that the essence of an apology sat upon his tongue?
“Begad Lucerne, there was no need for that mountain,” Charles gasped and rolled onto his back.
“It’s a hill,” Lucerne retorted. He drummed his fingers on the moss-streaked wall as if their current stillness was testing his resilience.
Vaughan released the fern, letting it sail off on the wind.
Charles blew out a long breath and propped himself on his elbows, face glowing beetroot red. “Aye, for sheep and goats maybe. How is it you two aren’t out of breath?”
“We have lesser loads to bear.” Vaughan dropped from his perch onto the springy turf sending a spray of water over Charles.
“Hey, watch out.” He shook out his spotted handkerchief and applied it to both his clothing and the sweat upon his brow.
“You should spend less time at the card table swigging port and get out more,” Lucerne ventured.
“Get out more? Damn your eyes, Marlinscar. I often ride out with the hounds. What would you know, you’ve spent your life idling in London?”
“I’m not the one panting.”
“Clearly your chosen sport isn’t taxing you enough,” Vaughan said.
Charles made a throaty grumble. “You stay out of this, Pennerley.”
“I was merely going to suggest that you take up steeplechasing.”
“What an excellent idea,” Lucerne remarked.
