And how much he craved the taste of her.Fuck.He wiped the back of a hand across his mouth. Tonight was not about his unrequited lust for a girl who was not for him. It was about finding out what business deal had led to his father’s death. Comstock, or rather Lord Galey, had agreed to meet him for dinner and he hoped to gain his observations about their fathers’ mutual friends.
He handed his hat to the attendant at the front desk. The young man’s eyes widened in horror as his gaze flitted over Hart’s face. Every muscle in Hart’s body tightened in response. Would he ever get used to how others reacted to his scarred visage? Would it ever not sting like a lash against his ego every single time?
“Is Lord Galey here? I’m to join him for dinner.” Hart bit out.
“Yes, Your Grace. Right this way.” The attendant hurried ahead of him down the corridor.
The walls papered in a dark green damask and trimmed with dark wood always made Hart imagine the inside of a well-appointed coffin. Even the air felt staid and stuffy. To his right, the attendant opened a door to a private dining room. Hart strode inside to find Galey swirling a glass of red wine in one hand while he flirted with the wine butler. The butler laughed at something Galey said, but when the man realized Hart had entered the room, his posture straightened, and his face flushed.
“Good evening, Lord Galey,” Hart said. He approached the table and sat across from his old friend.
Nonplussed, Galey sent a bright smile to the butler. “Pour my friend here a glass of this excellent wine. You have a superlative palate and always make the best recommendations.”
“That will be all for now.” Hart dismissed the man after his wine was poured.
He hadn’t come out to watch Galey pick out his bed companion for later tonight. Besides, it just reminded him how frustrated his earlier interlude with Lucy had left him. Self-denial did not come easily to him.
The door closed with a soft click.
Galey shifted his gaze to Hart. “You probably scared him away with your scowling face.”
Hart raised an eyebrow at Galey’s petulant tone. “I thought you had already slept with all the employees here.”
Galey grinned. “He’s new.”
Hart laughed. Galey was a hedonist. He swived with equal opportunity any person willing to be adventurous in bed, be it male, female, young, or more experienced. He had always been discreet with his love life, but Hart had to wonder if that was still true now that his father had passed.
“So, Your Grace, thank you for the dinner invitation.” Galey raised his glass. “And what do I owe this honor?”
“What do you mean? I am dipping my toes back into society. I just wanted to catch up.”
“Hmmm, I don’t believe that for a moment. You liked me least of all, Grisham was always your favorite.”
“Grisham was everyone’s favorite.”
“Not after he screwed us all by winning that bet. And then to add insult to injury, marrying the girl.”
Hart chuckled. Damn, it was nice to spend time with his old friends. Even if they were all assholes.
He took a swallow of wine. “I hoped I could get your opinions on some of our father’s friends. As you know, I have been looking into the time period around my father and brother’s deaths. This winter I found a letter, an angry threatening one, among my father’s papers. It was unsigned but had this symbol at the bottom.”
Hart pulled out the stamp and handed it to Galey.
Galey turned it over in his hand. “It’s their club from school.”
“Yes, that’s what Blackpool told me. You knew about it?”
“My father talked about their special club all the time. The bond, the friendship, blah blah.” He passed the stamp back to Hart and took a swallow of his wine.
“Well, I think the bonds had grown tenuous. This letter writer was quite angry over a broken agreement. Telling my father that he must honor their agreement or else.”
“Or else what?” Galey asked.
Hart shrugged. “Satisfaction? Retribution? It was all vague in that respect, but the emotion was clear. I think the reason they were found dead on the Strand was because of this broken deal. And your father’s knowledge of the details leads me to believe it was one of their club.”
Galey rubbed at his jaw. “My father always couched it as these men being like brothers. Do you really think one of them would kill another?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t even aware the club existed. My father certainly never shared anything about his life with me. But when I met with Blackpool, I asked him straight out what had caused a rift between him and my father a decade ago, and he replied that my father had an affair with his wife. So not all the bonds of friendship were that strong.”
