“Edward, please, be reasonable?—”
“Iambeing reasonable.” Edward’s voice cut like steel. “For once in your life, do something responsible.”
Simon stared at him, breathless. “This is lunacy.”
“This,” Edward said, turning away, “is consequence.” He nodded to Sebastian. “We’re done here.”
Sebastian clapped Simon on the shoulder as they passed. “Cheer up. At least the Baroness won’t starve you.”
Simon glared. “You’re both devils.”
Sebastian smiled pleasantly. “Yes. But we’re devils who pay our bills.”
Edward did not look back as he left the gaming hall. The smoke stung his eyes, but the real sting came from something deeper—anger, frustration, and beneath it all, the faint, unfathomable fear of what the truth might reveal.
They stepped out into the cold night air, the gaming hall’s door slamming shut behind them.
The street was quieter, but the echo of dice and drunken laughter still clung to Edward’s ears like smoke. He drew in a deep breath, grateful for the crispness of clean air.
Sebastian walked beside him, hands tucked into his coat pockets, expression thoughtful rather than amused for once.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “that went as badly as we had expected.”
Edward huffed out a breath. They walked a few paces in silence. Lampposts cast long shadows on the cobblestones, and a carriage rattled somewhere in the distance.
Then Sebastian spoke again.
“You know, I remember when we were like him.”
Edward glanced at him. “We were never as bad as Simon.”
“Not as careless,” Sebastian agreed. “But close. I do recall a time when we spent every night in places just like that one.” He nodded back toward the glowing windows of the gaming hall. “We thought it was freedom. Noise, cards, brandy, and absolutely no one expecting us home.”
Edward didn’t argue. Ithadfelt like freedom once, but not anymore.
Sebastian exhaled, his breath fogging in the cold. “Funny thing, though… life feels better now.”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “Better?”
Sebastian smiled faintly. “Much. Margaret. The baby. Quiet evenings. Knowing precisely where I’m meant to be.” He shook his head with a soft laugh. “If you’d told me five years ago that I’d prefer domesticity to debauchery, I’d have called you deranged.”
Edward looked ahead again. The street stretched long and dark, the kind of night where London felt impossibly large.
Sebastian nudged him lightly. “You don’t miss it, do you?”
Edward opened his mouth to say,Of course not. A simple, easy answer. But the words stuck in his throat. Because even as he considered the bright windows of the gaming hall, the noise, the hollow thrill behind them, something else flashed through his mind.
A quieter image. Beatrice.
Her tired smile at the carriage door, the way she had looked in candlelight last night. He thought about how her hand had felt in his during the waltz. And Pip—small, soft, impossibly trusting—sleeping in her cradle.
The strangest sensation washed over him. He wanted to go home.
The realization struck him with a force that made him halt mid-step.
Sebastian noticed at once. “Edward?”
“I’m fine,” Edward said too quickly, resuming his stride.
