Page 2 of Two of a Kind
Guy slowly smiled. “I’ll tell you what, James. Let me buy us a large bottle of whisky and then we can discuss what you will or won’t be doing tomorrow afternoon.”
“Sounds like a plan,” replied James.
Guy could buy all the whisky he wished; James Radley was not going to a garden party. Absolutely not.
Chapter Two
Richmond, London
Hell has frozen over
As the carriage bounced along the road to the garden party, James roused from his monstrous hangover and shot Guy the filthiest look he could muster. “You are a dirty, rotten blackguard, Dannon. That was a low thing you did last night,” he muttered, his voice rough.
“Stop whining, Radley. I didn’t hear you complaining when I pressed any one of those ten glasses of whisky into your hand,” snorted Guy.
“Ten? I thought it was only seven,” replied James.
Guy chuckled. “Ten. It took that many before you finally agreed to come.”
“As I recall, I was on my knees beside the River Thames at the time, and you refused to help me to my feet until I caved to your demands. Even then I didn’t think you were serious about me going,” said James.
Guy raised an eyebrow. “That would explain why you were not ready when I arrived to collect you this morning. Trust me, James, I have never been more serious about anything in my life,” replied Guy.
“But if you have already chosen this girl, why are we here?” asked James.
“To help seal the deal. I might not believe in love or any of that sentimental claptrap, but thetonlikes to think it does. If a chap wishes to get hitched, he has to go through the motions of courting a young lady. Society expects me to pay Leah special attention and lavish pretty compliments on her before I make an official offer of marriage,” replied Guy.
James silently chided himself. As his friend, Guy would expect him to be supportive of his efforts to secure a suitable marriage. Yet his conscience pricked at him. The way Guy was going about getting himself a wife was all too cold and dispassionate for his taste.
The stylish carriage pulled up at the end of a long line of similarly painted black ones outside an elegant country house. The younger adult members of London’s social elite were all gathering for a pleasant Saturday afternoon, while James just wanted to go home and climb back into his bed until he felt more human.
With undisguised reluctance, he climbed out of the carriage after Guy. Then he stopped. He had been in a foul mood since Guy had appeared at his bedroom door earlier that morning and demanded that he promptly dress and make himself presentable. And as much as it had been Guy who had pressed glass after glass of whisky into his hand, James knew that he had no one to blame for his painful hangover than himself. A gentleman should learn to suffer for his sins in silence.
“Go on ahead. I shall catch up with you momentarily. I need a minute to find my good humor,” said James.
“Suit yourself. I shall see you inside.”
Guy headed toward the garden gate which was gaily decorated with bright yellow ribbons. Footmen in black and yellow livery lined either side of the entrance. This was one of the most highly sought-after party invitations in the final days of autumn. Soon it would be too cold to host outdoor events.
James glanced up at the sky. Fortunately, only small fluffy clouds dotted the blue heavens. Even the sun had made a welcome appearance. A man should be happy on such a fine day. But not James.
He frowned as he watched his friend depart. The prospect of Guy and Leah both willingly entering into a loveless union weighed heavily on his mind. He knew it was not his place to judge the decisions of others, but a marriage for political gain went against all that he had been taught to value in a lifelong union.
He pulled a cheroot out of his coat pocket and lit it. Leaning back against the side of Guy’s town carriage, he drew back on the petite cigar.
Other carriages continued to make their way up the long drive and James watched with interest as various groups of young people and their chaperones alighted. There was laughter and smiles on everyone’s faces. All except his.
He mustered a half-hearted wave to some new arrivals, then fixed a smile to his lips as an old university chum, Rupert Gill, began to make his way over to where James stood. Lots of his friends would be attending today and he knew he should make a better effort to be congenial.
“Radley. Didn’t expect to see you here today,” said Rupert.
James shrugged. “Guy Dannon got me drunk and made me come. He is courting a young lady who will be here today.”
Rupert’s eyebrows reached for the sky. “Guy Dannon is courting someone. Well I’ll be damned. He is the last person I would expect to be hurrying into the arms of wedded bliss.”
James took little comfort in the knowledge that he was not the only one to think that Guy and marriage were not suitable bedfellows.
“And what about yourself, James? Are you heading back to university soon?”
