"That sounds like Laurence," Oliver murmured. "Always concerned that the atmosphere remain unblemished by any sign of actual feeling."
"Or by a duke staring at a glass so intently one fears it may burst into flame."
"As I have told you already, you need not trouble yourself."
"Yes, well, it is rather too late for that," Alexander admitted. "Are you certain you do not wish to speak about it?"
"I have already made myself very clear," Oliver repeated.
A gentleman near the window discreetly lifted his newspaper higher to avoid appearing to eavesdrop.
"Do you intend to remain here all night?" Alexander asked again.
"I haven't decided."
"Then allow me to assist you in deciding. You will come home."
"And if I decline?"
Alexander's expression did not change. "Then I shall be forced to sit here with you until the staff begin stacking chairs on the tables."
"You always did have a gift for stubbornness." A faint huff of amusement escaped Oliver despite himself.
"I prefer to think of it as loyalty," Alexander said lightly. "Come now. There is no dignity in brooding in public when you can do so quite as effectively in your own house."
Oliver let out a breath and at last set down the untouched glass.
"If you are determined to remove me, I suppose I cannot prevent it."
"No," Alexander agreed pleasantly. "You really can't."
He rose and extended a hand, more in courtesy than necessity. Oliver ignored it, but stood nonetheless. As they stepped out, Oliver drew his coat more closely around him.
"You will report to Laurence that I have been safely conveyed?"
"I expect he will extract the confession himself," Alexander said. "He does so enjoy knowing how things end."
"Then let us not keep him in suspense."
They descended the steps together, neither man in any particular hurry. When they reached the waiting carriage, Alexander paused, his hand on the door.
"For what it is worth," he said more quietly, "no one expects you to pretend you are untroubled."
"I am quite aware."
"Yes." Alexander inclined his head. "But you needn't be quite so intent on proving it."
Oliver did not reply. He only climbed into the carriage and looked straight ahead, as though any further conversation would be an indulgence he could not afford.
Alexander joined him, shutting the door with a click. And as the carriage began to roll down the street, neither man spokeagain. But there was a kind of relief in the silence A proof that no matter how far one might drift, there was always someone willing to come and fetch you home.
CHAPTER 23
Oliver was inside of his study when a knock alerted him.
"Enter."
The door opened to admit Theodore, who paused in the threshold as if measuring whether it was wise to step inside. He only observed his brother from a distance for a while until finally speaking up. He must have seen the frown on Oliver's face, which was more like a permanent feature now.
