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How was he to convey to Randolph at a ton ball no less that he had absolutely no interest in him anymore? And much to his
shock, he was now certain of Randolph s intentions. Hell, he shouldn t be shocked. Randolph held no stock in the concept of fidelity.
The man had visited brothels, for Christ s sake, when they had been together.
That echo of pain bit into his chest again.
Arthur opened his mouth, but before he could get the word no out, a familiar hand settled on his shoulder.
Ah, there you are, Barrington.
Thorn s drawled words washed over him. The tension briefly eased from Arthur s spine only to seize it once again as the full
extent of the situation hit him. His former lover before him and his current lover at his side. And Thorn did not have a reputation for
being a model of discretion.
Please, Thorn, please don t take issue with him.
My apologies, Amherst, for the interruption. Thorn tipped his head to Randolph, all politeness, as if he had never once referred
to the man as a damn heartless, cuckolding prig. Without a trace of anything more than friendship in his eyes, he looked to Arthur.
The Duke of Menteith is in need of another solicitor and wishes to make your acquaintance. If you would, I will see to the
introduction.
Arthur gathered his wits and nodded, jumping on a plausible reason to escape Randolph. If you will excuse us, Amherst, he
said, careful to avoid his former lover s gaze.
He fell into step beside Thorn as the man wound his way around the perimeter of the ballroom. You are acquainted with His
Grace? he asked once his pulse had returned to something that approached normal levels. Menteith was a powerful duke with many
and varied business interests. To secure him as a client would be a huge boon for his office.
He is my godfather. An old family friend. My father wishes to speak to you about something or other as well. Thorn slowed his
step as they came upon a footman bearing a silver tray. Would you care for another glass of champagne?
No, thank you. He glanced down, relieved to see Thorn s hands empty of any sort of glassware. Then he set his own glass on
the tray as they passed the footman.
Thorn led him into the supper room and to one of the tables situated near the tall windows, the velvet drapes drawn back,
revealing the night sky. Only two men sat at the table that would hold four. Thorn s father, Viscount Granville, and across from him a
distinguished-looking older gentleman with short, white hair.
I ve brought you a solicitor, Duke, Thorn said as they came to a stop beside the table. Mr. Arthur Barrington. The best in
London.
Thorn thought him the best in London? Far from the truth. He prided himself on being competent and trustworthy, and worked
hard to maintain that reputation, but he well knew he wasn t the best the city had to offer. Still, he couldn t help but feel a flush of pride
at Thorn s sentiment.
It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace, Arthur said with a half bow. He clasped his hands behind his back
as the duke assessed him for a moment. With the way that keen gaze seemed to take in every facet of his appearance, he had the
distinct impression that before him sat a man who expected nothing less than the highest standards.
He must have passed inspection, for the duke indicated the empty chair to his left. Have a seat, Barrington.
Thank you, Sir. Then Arthur tipped his head toward Thorn s father. Good evening, Lord Granville. Before moving to sit down,
he glanced beside him, the thanks for the introduction on his tongue, but found the space empty.
* * *
Arms crossed over his chest, Leopold leaned against a corner of a wall just inside the ballroom, his attention half on the narrow
corridor behind him. Midnight had come and gone, the evening in full swing, the guests merry and lively, a few well into their cups,
their happy voices nearly overpowering the musicians. Yet all traces of his excitement had drained away a few moments after
stepping into the room.
A part of him still could not quite decide if tonight was some sort of test, especially after his afternoon call to Arthur s office. He
couldn t forget the sharp jab of Arthur s finger toward the chair opposite his desk, that air of severe disapproval radiating from him.
He was well aware his lover valued discretion above all else. What had he been thinking, to suck off Arthur at the man s office?
Exactly the problem. He had not been thinking clearly. He had allowed jealousy to get the better of him. His only excuse was that
jealousy was a rather new concept for him. He had never before had a lover for longer than a night. Never felt that harsh, defensive
need to protect his right to call someone his own. And not just any someone, but Arthur Barrington.
Fortunately Arthur had forgiven him for his lapse. Well, he hoped Arthur had forgiven him. Hoped and prayed the afternoon had
not turned into yet another mark against him. He had enough of those to overcome.
Letting out a sigh, he adjusted his cravat that had taken him three tries to tie correctly. At least Arthur could not take issue with
his appearance. And he could not help feeling a bit pleased Arthur had attended a social function with him. After they had returned
from Yorkshire, they had confined their evenings exclusively to his town house or Arthur s apartments. Not that he minded. He much
preferred to spend time with Arthur alone than to share his company with others. Still, the thought that Arthur had been reluctant to be
seen out and about with him, as if Leopold s reputation alone would taint him, had hurt.
But if the evening was a test, then he rather thought he had passed admirably. With Arthur occupied with the duke and a few
others discussing business, Leopold had played his part of the perfect gentleman to the hilt. Had sought only his father s staid
acquaintances for conversation, avoided the card room, had partaken only of the weak lemonade from the refreshment table, danced [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
How was he to convey to Randolph at a ton ball no less that he had absolutely no interest in him anymore? And much to his
shock, he was now certain of Randolph s intentions. Hell, he shouldn t be shocked. Randolph held no stock in the concept of fidelity.
The man had visited brothels, for Christ s sake, when they had been together.
That echo of pain bit into his chest again.
Arthur opened his mouth, but before he could get the word no out, a familiar hand settled on his shoulder.
Ah, there you are, Barrington.
Thorn s drawled words washed over him. The tension briefly eased from Arthur s spine only to seize it once again as the full
extent of the situation hit him. His former lover before him and his current lover at his side. And Thorn did not have a reputation for
being a model of discretion.
Please, Thorn, please don t take issue with him.
My apologies, Amherst, for the interruption. Thorn tipped his head to Randolph, all politeness, as if he had never once referred
to the man as a damn heartless, cuckolding prig. Without a trace of anything more than friendship in his eyes, he looked to Arthur.
The Duke of Menteith is in need of another solicitor and wishes to make your acquaintance. If you would, I will see to the
introduction.
Arthur gathered his wits and nodded, jumping on a plausible reason to escape Randolph. If you will excuse us, Amherst, he
said, careful to avoid his former lover s gaze.
He fell into step beside Thorn as the man wound his way around the perimeter of the ballroom. You are acquainted with His
Grace? he asked once his pulse had returned to something that approached normal levels. Menteith was a powerful duke with many
and varied business interests. To secure him as a client would be a huge boon for his office.
He is my godfather. An old family friend. My father wishes to speak to you about something or other as well. Thorn slowed his
step as they came upon a footman bearing a silver tray. Would you care for another glass of champagne?
No, thank you. He glanced down, relieved to see Thorn s hands empty of any sort of glassware. Then he set his own glass on
the tray as they passed the footman.
Thorn led him into the supper room and to one of the tables situated near the tall windows, the velvet drapes drawn back,
revealing the night sky. Only two men sat at the table that would hold four. Thorn s father, Viscount Granville, and across from him a
distinguished-looking older gentleman with short, white hair.
I ve brought you a solicitor, Duke, Thorn said as they came to a stop beside the table. Mr. Arthur Barrington. The best in
London.
Thorn thought him the best in London? Far from the truth. He prided himself on being competent and trustworthy, and worked
hard to maintain that reputation, but he well knew he wasn t the best the city had to offer. Still, he couldn t help but feel a flush of pride
at Thorn s sentiment.
It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace, Arthur said with a half bow. He clasped his hands behind his back
as the duke assessed him for a moment. With the way that keen gaze seemed to take in every facet of his appearance, he had the
distinct impression that before him sat a man who expected nothing less than the highest standards.
He must have passed inspection, for the duke indicated the empty chair to his left. Have a seat, Barrington.
Thank you, Sir. Then Arthur tipped his head toward Thorn s father. Good evening, Lord Granville. Before moving to sit down,
he glanced beside him, the thanks for the introduction on his tongue, but found the space empty.
* * *
Arms crossed over his chest, Leopold leaned against a corner of a wall just inside the ballroom, his attention half on the narrow
corridor behind him. Midnight had come and gone, the evening in full swing, the guests merry and lively, a few well into their cups,
their happy voices nearly overpowering the musicians. Yet all traces of his excitement had drained away a few moments after
stepping into the room.
A part of him still could not quite decide if tonight was some sort of test, especially after his afternoon call to Arthur s office. He
couldn t forget the sharp jab of Arthur s finger toward the chair opposite his desk, that air of severe disapproval radiating from him.
He was well aware his lover valued discretion above all else. What had he been thinking, to suck off Arthur at the man s office?
Exactly the problem. He had not been thinking clearly. He had allowed jealousy to get the better of him. His only excuse was that
jealousy was a rather new concept for him. He had never before had a lover for longer than a night. Never felt that harsh, defensive
need to protect his right to call someone his own. And not just any someone, but Arthur Barrington.
Fortunately Arthur had forgiven him for his lapse. Well, he hoped Arthur had forgiven him. Hoped and prayed the afternoon had
not turned into yet another mark against him. He had enough of those to overcome.
Letting out a sigh, he adjusted his cravat that had taken him three tries to tie correctly. At least Arthur could not take issue with
his appearance. And he could not help feeling a bit pleased Arthur had attended a social function with him. After they had returned
from Yorkshire, they had confined their evenings exclusively to his town house or Arthur s apartments. Not that he minded. He much
preferred to spend time with Arthur alone than to share his company with others. Still, the thought that Arthur had been reluctant to be
seen out and about with him, as if Leopold s reputation alone would taint him, had hurt.
But if the evening was a test, then he rather thought he had passed admirably. With Arthur occupied with the duke and a few
others discussing business, Leopold had played his part of the perfect gentleman to the hilt. Had sought only his father s staid
acquaintances for conversation, avoided the card room, had partaken only of the weak lemonade from the refreshment table, danced [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]