Page 55 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
Alexander’s chest tightened. “You’re ill, Hamish. You’ve drunk too much.”
Hamish groaned, passing a hand over his face. “Don’t I always.”
“Here, let’s get you up onto the sofa.”
“No, no, better not. It’s a lovely velvet affair, I’d only ruin it. I ruin everything, you know.”
He bit his lip. “You know that’s not true, Hamish.”
Hamish opened bleary eyes, smiling weakly. “I think you know that it is. Just give a moment to sit quietly.”
He leaned back, resting his head against the seat of the sofa, and Alexander crouched down in front of him.
For a moment, they sat there in silence.
“You’ve never been as bad as me, have you?” Hamish remarked at last. “I’ve been a rake since I was seventeen or eighteen, and drinking too much long before that. You only started on this business when your father died.”
The lump returned to Alexander’s throat. He swallowed hard a couple of times, trying to force it down, but it wouldn’t go.
“What does that have to do with anything, Hamish? You’re ill.”
“Yes, I am ill. More ill than I might have thought. Do you know, I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter how much wine and whiskey I drank, because I could stop drinking it whenever I chose, I just didn’twantto. Seems ridiculous, but I truly did believe that I was controlling it, not that it was controlling me.”
“Hamish…”
“No, no, I see the look on people’s faces. It’s like reading something in one of those Radcliffe novels, when the hero or heroine sees something terrible happening, but they haven’t strength to stop it, so they just have to watch. I disgust people, Alexander. I disgust myself.”
Alexander gripped Hamish’s shoulders firmly. “You’re my friend. You don’t disgust me. You never will. I won’t lie, I wish you’d behaved a little better over the past few days. You embarrassed me a little, but I also embarrassed myself a fair bit, too.”
“Your brother looks at me like he wants to kill me,” Hamish remarked, trying for a wobbly smile.
Alexander winced. “Yes, but he looks at me like that, too. Sometimes I think it’s just the way William looks at everyone, frankly.”
“I… I think I might have let your secret slip to someone, too. I was drunk, and I was talking to myself, and I think… I think someone was nearby.”
Yes, you fool. Graham Donovan.
But what good would come from telling him that? Hamish was looking up at Alexander with wide, pleading eyes, guilt written clearly on his face.
On impulse, Alexander settled down next to his friend, shoulder to shoulder.
“You have to go home tomorrow, Hamish. William insisted. Neither of us have behaved well, but he can’t exactly sendmeaway. I’m going to arrange it all. And when all this is over, you and I will try and mend our rakish ways, eh?”
Hamish gave that small smile again. “Me because I don’t want to end up like my father, and you to impress your Miss Atwater?”
“You really need to stop talking about Miss Atwater like that. I’ve been warned off her.”
“What?”
“Don’t ask,” Alexander muttered, waving a hand. “But the point is, we’re friends. Playing the rake, drinking, and enjoying a hand of cards isn’t a crime, as far as I know, but perhaps as we get older, a little more moderation is the key?”
“Neither of us are good at moderation.”
Perhaps,Alexander thought, with a sudden spurt of fear,but if we don’t control our habits, they’ll control us. Vomiting on the library floor will be the least of our worries.
I don’t want to die a drunkard.
There were soft footsteps, and the footmen appeared, faces smooth and impassive.
