Page 75 of The Viscount's Seduction
“And you’ll be anxious to get back to your lady, eh? Too anxious to remember the names of a couple of nonpareils. From the grave scowl, I’ve hit it, haven’t I, Bakeley?”
He had the waiter bring him a brandy and settled into his chair. A robust card game was taking place at the nearest table. Otherwise they could talk in reasonable privacy.
“You’re right, of course.”
“Hah. I knew it. What part of her business did you want to discuss with me? You don’t need money, I know. Is it a government matter? I’m rather powerless but I do have a few friends in the foreign office and the treasury.”
“It’s a soldier I’m inquiring about, or rather a former soldier. Sterling Hollister.”
Charley sipped his drink. “A relation of hers?”
“Her cousin, the new Earl of Glenmorrow.”
“Have you spoken with Bink or Hackwell?”
“Not yet. But I don’t want too many snooping.”
“I have friends in Horse Guards who might know. Yet the name is familiar.” He tapped his chin. “I’ve heard it recently. British is he?”
“Or Anglo Irish. Sirena says he’s wanting to enter Parliament.”
“He will wait a good long time for an Irish opening in Lords.” He sat up. “Hold there. Is he the fellow entering the Commons? I’d heard there was a new Irish Earl wishing to lower himself for a foot in the door, as it were.” He rubbed his hands together. “You’re in luck. With Bink and I taking seats, we can snoop around without suspicion.”
“He’s in town then?”
“I don’t know.” Charley looked around the room. “If I ask one of these fools about him, the word will get out.” His eyes lit and he waved at a man who’d just entered. “Penderbrook will know. He knows everything.”
“Can he be discreet?”
“Trust me, Bakeley.”
“With your reputation?”
Charley laughed. “One that is carefully honed.”
Penderbrook joined them, his open face beaming. “Everly, did I not tell you your money was on the wrong horse?”
“Very well, yes. I must accede to your superior knowledge of horseflesh. Never mind that my family raised the horses the Conqueror rode when he crossed the Channel. Do you know my brother, Bakeley?”
Penderbrook bowed. “We met at a boxing match some time ago.”
“Did my man win?” Bakeley asked.
Penderbrook flushed. “I believe not, my lord.”
“Penderbrook thinks that he never errs, Bakeley, but don’t believe it. I can go through the betting book and show you all the wagers he’s lost.” He waved a waiter over and had him pour a third drink. “You must lift a glass with us. Bakeley has got himself leg shackled only yesterday to the very fetching Lady Sirena Hollister.”
A spark lit in Penderbrook’s eyes, guileless and eager. He was younger than Charley, one of his brother’s many friends making his way in society, wanting to be the man in the know with the first juicy piece of gossip. Bakeley dutifully lifted the glass and drank, swallowing a groan along with the liquor.
“The announcement will go out tomorrow,” Charley said, “so we’re counting on you, Penderbrook, to wait until then to spread the news far and wide. I know I can count on you.”
“Of course. I’m the soul of discretion.” The younger man’s eyes twinkled. “At least Icanbe.”
“Bakeley doesn’t wish to be entertaining curious callers for at least a few days, do you, brother? He’s fortunate the marriage was carried out with very little trouble, especially from the bride’s family. She’s an orphan, and Glenmorrow went to some distant Hollister cousin.”
Penderbrook frowned and gazed off for a moment. “Sterling Hollister? The new Earl of Glenmorrow? You have married his cousin, sir? But he’s also a member of White’s. He’s in town now. He’ll be disappointed to hear his cousin married without his presence, since he’s now head of the family.”
“Good heavens.” Charley looked around. “Is he here now? Will you introduce us?”
