John’s sweet grin turned his stomach.Dear God, must his friends always go on and on about tupping their wives?Could there be any subject more saccharine?Or more off-putting to himself?
“I assure you I catch your meaning,” he said, cutting off John’s raillery.“I didn’t realize you were an expert on history.From what I remember, you always used to copy off Monty.”
Only once the words were out of his mouth did Leith realize what he had said.Hehad known how to imitate Monty’s hand because, long ago, as boys at Eton, they had learned to complete schoolwork in each other’s names.Leith had hated history and Monty had loathed Latin, so they had just done the work for each other.It was easier that way, because, knowing what they had written in their own assignments, they could make the one penned in the other’s name different enough to pass muster with the tutors.It had been ingenious—but it had also been why Leith had been able to write that note as Monty to Olivia all those years ago.
John grimaced.“Indeed, I did.”
Leith could feel his friend thinking about that painful piece of history.Luckily, he also seemed disinclined to dwell on the past.
“But Catherine likes me to read over her manuscripts all the same.I call it my blockhead’s proofread.If I can understand it and find it lively, well, I reckon anyone will.”
Leith gave a soft chuckle.It really didn’t amuse him, how his friend had become such a devoted husband and thus unrecognizable to him.But he appreciated that John skated over his unintentional reference to the painful business with Monty.And he knew that, underneath the devoted husband, the rakish boy that he had once known could still be accessed.
“I have a problem,” Leith said, without further preamble.“And I need your counsel.”
“Me?”
Now, Leith really laughed.“Why not?”
“Well, I thought you would go to Monty, of course.”
He shook his head.“He’s involved in the matter.”
“What do you mean?”
Leith sighed.
“Yesterday, he sends me a missive, asking me to come to Carrington Place immediately.He used our symbol.”
He and his friends had a symbol for times of emergency, which they had developed at school.It was the first letters of all their titles—well, John’s back when it had been Forster—overlaid on each other.It created a symbol not unlike a four-paned window.They sent it when they needed one another immediately.
“Dear God, what was it?Was Olivia ill?”
“No, not at all.A chit had showed up at Carrington Place, a third cousin, asking for entrée into the demimondaine.As a courtesan.”
“A cousin of Monty’s wants to be acourtesan?”
Leith proceeded to tell John the whole tale—up to and including the threat he had received from Miss Salisbury this morning.
“Why don’t you just tell Monty that the girl is insisting?That she’s threatened you?”
Leith looked down at the carpet.“I’m not sure he’ll believe me.”
“But why?”
“You know why.”
“I cannot say that I do.”
He let out another sigh.“Because of what happened.With Olivia.”
“Oh.The note.”
“Yes, the note,” he snapped.
“But you made amends for that mistake.And it was so long ago.”
Leith shook his head.“He says he has forgiven me, but it has never been the same between us since he found out the truth.And, really, I can’t blame him.It was a horrible act.What I did.”
