“Go away.” Ash kept his eyes firmly closed. One did not engage Hurtheven. Not when he was in this humor.
Hurtheventsked. “He hasn’t been this bad since the fire.”
“In his defense,” Chev supplied, “losing one’s wife, father and home is apt to make one melancholy.”
“He was melancholy before. But this... This is simple indulgence.”
Do not engage.
“Arrogance,” Hurtheven continued, “of the highest form.”
“You would know arrogance.” Ash opened one eye. “It is hardly conceit to protect others.”
“Is that what you are doing?” Chev asked.
Yes, it was. Wasn’t it?
“Say, Cheverly, on a scale of woebegone indolence to despondent wallow, where does our hero fall?”
“The needle points to wallow, I’m afraid.”
“You two have no idea—” Ash started. Chev’s raised brow made him pause.
Hurtheven hit Ash’s shoulder with his knee. “Get up, fool. I am here to mount a rescue. I haven’t all day, you know. Not even for you.”
“No rescue is required.”
Hurtheven clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “I’d appreciate if one of you would pour me a drink so we can get started.”
Reluctantly, Ash sat up. “Why is it that you always barge into my rooms and demand a drink?”
Hurtheven grinned. “Because you buy fine tipple of course. Much better than I can afford.”
Ash lifted a brow. “You are rich beyond measure.”
Hurtheven shrugged. “Much more than I am willing to pay, then.”
“I’ll serve,” Ash said. “But only because I find myself craving something strong.”
Ash distributed healthy pours.
“You confronted her, I take it?” Chev asked.
Ash gazed into the soft, brown liquid and nodded. “She told me she’d do anything to keep her child safe.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Hurtheven said.
Ash glanced up. “From me.”
“You must have made quite an impression,” Chev said.
“The bruises did not improve my appearance,” Ash replied.
“Doubtless.” Hurtheven leaned forward. “Whatwereyou thinking?”
Ash’s head whipped up. “I bloody well wasn’tthinking.”
“You were bleeding, for God’s sakes,” Chev pointed out.
