“Henry, have a care!” Lord Berkeley muttered.
“Hedoes not care,” Sir Henry said to his friends, then turned to Edward, who still stood with jaw and hands clenched. “You never care about the women. Why in the world would you care about your own wife, regardless of her beauty or title? Though, apparently the former is now in question.”
“Do not speak of her.” Edward’s voice was low, warning.
Sir Henry sat up in his chair, the contents of his drink sloshing dangerously. “Why should I not? Everyone else is. Everyone but you, it would seem.”
“Devil take it, man. You utter one more word about my wife, and I shall ensure you need assistance walking from this home.”
“Oh-ho! You think—”
“Cut it, Henry,” Lord Bowcott cut in, with a placating hand to Edward and a stern look to Sir Henry. “What is wrong with you, man?”
The baronet stood suddenly, swaying on the spot. “If that is the care I receive from my friends, I believe I will make my exit. Gentlemen.” He bowed low, an impressive feat with how foxed he seemed to be, and walked unsteadily from the group as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Edward stood awkwardly before the other men, seconds from walking away himself.
“I apologize. I do not know where that came from,” Lord Berkeley said, coming to a stand.
Lord Bowcott pushed his hand through his hair, murmuring, “I think I do.” He looked at Edward. “There is an unfortunate history for Henry where you are concerned. I, too, apologize. It was low of him to speak of your wife so.”
Edward raised a brow curiously but then nodded curtly and was about to leave when something Sir Henry had said jumped to the forefront of his mind. “What did the man mean when he said everyone else speaks of Amelia?”
The two men shared a look, and Edward felt a sense of foreboding.
“Well?”
“There are rumors afoot this evening. I imagine that is to what he referred. My wife just informed me of them, and I believe she was in search of Lady Norwich when I came in here to find Lucas. Unfortunately, we found Henry deep in his cups at the same moment and so have been trying to mitigate that before following my wife to aid in whatever way was needed.”
“To aid—whatever would Amelia need aid over? I heard no rumors.” He paused, considering. “No new rumors, that is.”
“It is only a matter of time before you hear them. Your name is being bandied about as well.”
“Blast.” Edward rubbed his neck, glancing around at the many gentlemen lounging about, playing cards, and enjoying their drinks with no mind to his serious discussion. “I must find her.” He stepped back but changed his mind at the last moment yet again. “The rumors. What do they say?”
Lord Bowcott looked to Lord Berkeley, who simply inclined his head to Edward. Lord Bowcott sighed, none of the animosity he generally reserved for Edward apparent. “Essentially, they say your wife was unwanted by both you and her father. And that... well...” Lord Bowcott looked suddenly uncomfortable. “That you have been with an unfathomable amount of women, ruined them all, and intended to do the same for Lady Amelia. Only you did not have the chance, what with her father looking to rid himself of her being that she has several—ah—disfigurementsthe family was hoping to conceal.”
Edward felt his jaw go slack. Had Amelia heard these things? Did the rumors speak to her scars? How could someone know of her scars when Edward himself had just found out? Did someone hear him mention them in the carriage? And these lies regarding himself. This was far worse than London had yet thrown at him. “Blast. Blast it all. She does not know. I never told her.” He looked up, panicked, at the two gentlemen. “They are not true, the rumors. There is only a grain of truth to them, and even that, I am sure, has grown out of proportion. I must find her. Thank you for telling me.”
Both men nodded solemnly; Lord Bowcott, especially, watched him with a scrutinous eye. “We will help diminish the damage in whatever way we can.”
“I thank you. Again.” And then he made for the door, intent on finding Amelia whether she wished for his help or not. Most likely not.
“Lord Norwich.” For the second time in only a handful of minutes, someone called his name.
He did not stop.
“Lord Norwich.” The voice was at his elbow now, the man holding out a hand to stop Edward. What was this idiot about?
“What?” Edward thundered, turning to see Mr. Weston attempting to stop his progress. The exclamation made a few men glance up from their games, but they immediately returned their gazes to their cards with only a few raised brows.
“Mr. Weston, I haven’t the time for whatever sermon you wish to preach to me. I must find my wife this instant.”
“Yes, that is why I am here. She has left. She asked me to inform you.”
Edward finally stopped his forward progression and searched the man’s face. He seemed earnest enough, but the blasted man always appeared that way. Edward turned to face him fully, lowering his voice.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
