“You were foxed.”
“I was foxed. And thank God for it, or that fall would have hurt a deal more than it already did.” He touched his fingers to his cheek, and the scab clotted over the scrape. “Now you. What happened in the drawing room? And why did it?”
“It was entirely the captain’s doing. Louisa observed him pushing his tongue down the elder Miss Hayes’s throat. I happened to be dancing with her at the time, and as she was distraught and quite unable to continue, I took her somewhere she could compose herself.”
“The drawing room?”
“Precisely.”
“And then?”
“And then, as much as it might surprise you, she initiated what followed. I won’t flatter myself. I was simply to hand. We’re all of us prone to dramatics when hurt.”
“Yet you knew that and did nothing to discourage it. You risked her reputation, her—”
“Lucerne, perhaps you forget who you are speaking to.”
He sucked his lower lip. “Yes, of course.” When had his friend ever given a damn about anyone’s reputation besides his own reprehensible one. “No genuine interest then, mere opportunism.” That it had been a means to provoke Freddy merely an added boon.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve always had a thing about blonds.” Vaughan reached out with bejewelled fingers and gently ruffled Lucerne’s hair.
Lucerne snorted and pushed his hand away. “Let’s not pretend. Louisa’s hardly to your taste. Bella, on the other hand.”
“Don’t conflate your own desires with mine.”
“Then pray tell what that nonsense at the table was about? ‘She’ll take my shots.’ Kissing her?”
A pale flicker of displeasure flashed through Vaughan’s eyes over being challenged. Cognisant of the trouble that likely spelled, Lucerne nevertheless couldn’t resist pushing. “You know, I believe she was quite taken with you at first. I was almost jealous of the effect you wrought, until you started behaving like a beast towards her. Why are you?”
Vaughan spun sharply, so that he was halfway across the room in a couple of strides. He stopped level with the chaise before the fireplace and gripped its backrest. “As if you need me to answer that,” he said between gritted teeth.
Truly. It was that simple. “Am I to discern from that you’re jealous?”
The marquis’s head whipped around. He met Lucerne’s gaze unblinkingly. The answer was clear as day. It seemed to echo in the very air around them.
“Do you still mean to pursue her?”
Lucerne took a few thoughtful paces. He had not yet considered the matter, had not even thought to do so. Whatever this was between he and Vaughan, it was barely hours old, and of a nature that was entirely incompatible with the rules of society to which they belonged. “Is that a problem?”
“That rather depends upon the intended outcome.” The bite of his words rather implied otherwise.
“Pleasure,” Lucerne mouthed, already perturbed by Vaughan’s reaction. Surely, he didn’t mean for him to forgo all relations with women. He summoned a salacious smile. “We’ve shared before, why not again?”
“And I’m the one with the reputation as a rogue. We’ve shared whores, Lucerne.”
“Are you quibbling over her elevated birth?”
“I’m quibbling over where you imagine it will lead. Rushdale is hardly going to stand back and allow you to debauch his sister without consequence.”
Lucerne might have held his tongue, but he found that since they were speaking so frankly that he didn’t want to. “Maybe I’m not altogether horrified by that notion. I’ll have to marry at some point. There’s the viscountcy to think of, and I’d rather someone who pleases me, than a loveless business arrangement.”
“I see. It sounds as if you have it all worked out.”
In hindsight, it may have been wiser and certainly more tactful not to be so honest given the scowl his admission received. “Why don’t we speak of something else, since this is clearly a touchy subject.”
But the subject would not be so easily dismissed. Lucerne poured himself another drink, and sipped it slowly, aware of Vaughan observing him. His butterflies of earlier were now crippled by additional anxiety. He’d bitten two fingernails down to the quicks before he realised what he was doing and stopped himself.
When Vaughan came towards him, his shadow entwining with Lucerne’s, he lifted his head apprehensively, only to find Vaughan smiling devilishly, all trace of his consternation gone. His friend had always been mercurial, his moods and passions arriving and departing on the swiftest wings. He drew a thumb and finger down the sides of Lucerne’s face, so that they met at the point of his chin. “What a pity you’re so honourable, you could have bedded her thrice over by now. And you certainly need not worry about being the first to do so.”