Edward pushed the door open.
Heat hit them first, then came the smoke and the thick press of bodies. Lamps hung low, casting everything in an orange haze.Men shouted around card tables, women laughed too loudly, and dice clattered across stained green cloth.
“Charming establishment,” Sebastian muttered beside him. “Reminds me precisely why I never gamble.”
“You do gamble,” Edward reminded him.
“Yes,” Sebastian agreed. “But not anymore, especially not here. Here, the floor is sticky.”
Edward said nothing.
They weaved through the crowd until Sebastian nodded toward a far table. “There he is. In his natural habitat.”
Edward’s gaze landed on the far card table, where Simon sat in the center of a raucous group, grinning as though the world existed purely for his amusement.
Simon was handsome in the careless, disorderly way that always drew attention—dark curls slightly too long, coat unbuttoned, cravat loosened. He looked too much like Edward, except he was leaner and paler.
A woman perched on the arm of his chair, tracing circles on his shoulders with lacquered fingernails. He laughed at something she said and tossed a pile of coins onto the table without looking at them.
Edward’s jaw tightened. “We wait for him to finish the round.”
“Why?” Sebastian asked. “He won’t notice.”
“I will not drag him up mid-game like a common debtor.”
Sebastian snorted. “He looks like a common debtor.”
Edward ignored him and folded his arms, watching.
Simon’s cards were excellent—Edward could tell by the man’s careless smirk. He laid them down with a flourish, raking in winnings as the others groaned and cursed.
Only then did Edward step forward.
“Simon,” he said sharply.
Simon looked up, surprised, then broke into a slow grin. “Edward! Did not expect to see you in a place like this.” His eyes flicked to Sebastian. “Or your perpetual shadow.”
“My Lord,” Sebastian greeted, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he bowed slightly.
Simon dismissed him with a wave and leaned back, stretching. “Well then, what brings the mighty Dukes to this fine establishment? Come to wager your fortune away? I assure you, I’d be delighted to win it.”
“We need to talk,” Edward said.
Simon blinked. “Now? I’m on a roll.”
“Now,” Edward insisted.
Something in his tone finally penetrated Simon’s brandy-hazed good humor.
With a theatrical sigh, Simon muttered apologies to his table and rose. “Lead on. Though I warn you, I’m in no mood for sermons.”
They moved to a darker corner near the wall, where the music thudded through the floorboards.
“All right, Cousin,” Simon began, brushing ash from his sleeve. “What’s the matter? You look as though someone insulted your horse.”
“It’s about a child,” Edward said flatly.
Simon blinked. “A child?”
