Such a varying account floored Nicholas, for it was nothing at all like the facts Frederick had regaled him with. All this supposition was quite patently hearsay and Nick wondered at the true story. Still, if Jacob had not told Frederick or Oliver of it he doubted it would suddenly be related to him.
But why the secrecy?
His hand slipped into his right pocket and he felt the threads of the bracelet and its beads beneath the pads of his fingers. Tomorrow he was taking Eleanor to Lackington, Allen & Co. in Finsbury Square and he’d always liked the look of the façade of the place. She’d seemed tense when he had asked her of their next destination and he had wondered if anything had happened there between them to make her feel this way.
Oliver raised his glass towards him as he took a seat on the leather sofa by the windows.
‘Here’s to your return and to the future.’ His smile was wide and honest. ‘You were my first true friend here in England and it’s good to have you back.’
‘It’s good to be here, Oliver.’
‘God, Nick, I was such a green boy back then, wasn’t I? One day at a new school and they were already teasing me about my Indian background and the colour of my skin and of the different way I spoke, until you showed up.’
‘With my ire up and fists flying. I’d been practising my boxing skills at Bromworth Manor that summer holiday if I remember correctly and wanted to put them into practice.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘It was much more than that, I would say. There were two of us and ten of them and you had a split lip and a black eye for weeks after and a broken wrist to boot. But they never bothered me again.’ He twirled the crystal stem of his wineglass in hand before glancing up. ‘I used to think of that after you had gone and for years I combed the city for you and paid agents to try and understand what had happened in the back alley of Vitium et Virtus. Even when people said that there was no hope left I always held out for some...’ He stopped and took a drink. ‘So here is to our friendship, Nick, and to brotherhood and to finding the bastard who did this to you. We are all in this you know. We all have your back.’
‘I do know and I thank you for it and when I have need of help I will let you know. Coming back again has been a revelation, all the differences and the changes. I have never seen you look quite so happy. Where did you meet Cecilia?’
Oliver stretched his long legs out before him as he took his time to answer. ‘In Paris. She was at the time employed in a gentlemen’s club and went under the name of Madame Coquette. She was quite famous.’ The laughter in his eyes made it known the story was not exactly as he said it.
Nick drank deeply before answering, ‘Here’s to women who are not boring, then, and who know how to please a man.’
‘Oh, a good woman is much more than that, Nicholas. To be with someone you love is about the warmth of friendship and the certainty of a future. There’s a comfort, too, in the complete absence of lies and after living a life like mine that is more than a relief.’
‘By the sound of things you have all found women with as many secrets as your own. Perhaps that is the trick of happiness?’
‘I think fate plays a hand, too, and timing.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ But all Nick could think of as he smiled was the lost week that Eleanor Huntingdon was doing her best to try to make him remember.
* * *
‘Eleanor Huntingdon is helping Nicholas retrieve his memory.’ Oliver said this to Cecilia when he returned home for she was waiting up for him in the morning room.
‘Is he recalling anything else leading up to his disappearance?’
‘Seems he is not, but Jake’s sister is squiring him around town, trying her hardest to facilitate his memory.’
‘Were they close? Before this happened, I mean?’
‘I can’t remember. I didn’t think so, but...’
‘I hear all sorts of accounts of Lord Bromley wherever I go. He was somewhat wild, I gather, and seldom seen out of the company of women.’
‘He was lonely. Like me.’ Pulling her from the wing chair, he sat down himself and settled her on his lap. ‘You are warm and comfortable, my love.’
She laughed at that. ‘Like an old slipper?’
‘Warm and comfortable and sensual as hell,’ he amended and kissed her.
‘That’s better.’ She leaned back against him, her rich brown hair released from its pins and clips burnished in the firelight. ‘Eleanor Huntingdon is strong and sensible and I have liked her a lot each time I have met her. She is not a lightweight woman, yet she holds secrets and they worry her.’
‘Such intuition is not to be trifled with. I concur with your conclusions.’
‘Perhaps Nick is the man to help her, then? The way you speak of him, Oliver, gives me the impression that he was never afraid of anything.’
‘The attraction of opposites, you mean?’
