“About bloody time.” Ramsey strode in, giving an annoyed glance to Wilkes, who ignored the slight, bowed, and left the gentlemen alone.
As the door closed, Ramsey turned to Heathcliff. “I suppose you’ve been interrogated as well? What was he thinking? Does he know the depths of the scandal involved here? A duke’s daughter!” Ramsey tugged on his cravat, then took a seat opposite Heathcliff.
“It will all blow over soon enough,” Heathcliff remarked calmly, quite accustomed to Ramsey’s aversion to scandal of any sort.
“Twice! Bloody investigators have been in to see me twice.”
“I only just excused them, yet again. I’ve lost track. This was either three or four times,” Heathcliff remarked, then stood from his desk, lifted his glass, and raised an eyebrow of inquiry to Ramsey.
“Thank you.” Ramsey accepted the invitation.
Heathcliff poured a generous portion into a clean glass for his friend and refreshed his own brandy. As he handed the amber liquid to Ramsey, he took a seat on the edge of his desk. “It could be worse.” He took a sip.
“Enlighten me,” Ramsey remarked dryly and sipped as well.
Heathcliff shrugged. “They only have suspicions. And I’d wager they already know Lady Liliah Durary is now the Countess of Heightfield and are only looking for more information. What’s done is done.”
“True, but what of the other daughter?” Ramsey asked stiffly. “She is still in question.”
“I know nothing of her. So I’m not helpful in the least.”
Ramsey nodded. “I heard something about America, but who’s to say? Still, it makes me nervous. A little too close for comfort. I always knew Lucas would create a scandal.”
Heathcliff chuckled. “Ramsey, wearescandal. The three of us! Think upon our reputations! Not even the current ones, but the rumors that surrounded our descent into hell,” he remarked, standing up. “What redemption is left for us? None.”
Ramsey twisted his lips, then adjusted his spectacles. “Indeed. Regardless of what truly occurred, our reputations do precede us.”
“And we’ve used it to the best advantage possible.”
“Very well, you’ve made your point.”
“Thank you.” Heathcliff lifted his glass to salute his friend.
Ramsey stood. “Are you still planning on staying till this dies down? Heightfield said you might return to Scotland for the off-Season.”
Heathcliff shrugged. “I was intending to leave earlier, but I’ll wait till the situation rights itself.”
“Thank you.” Ramsey nodded, then headed to the door. “And for heaven’s sake, talk to that butler of yours. He’s worse than a watchdog. You’d think I’ve never come in without announcement.” Ramsey shook his head, then quit the room.
Heathcliff chuckled. He could easily have asked Wilkes to admit Ramsey without hesitation, but it was utterly entertaining to watch his friend become irritated.
Yet, as he turned toward the fire, his thoughts wandered.
It was a truth that never left his mind but was also not always at the forefront.
Reputation.
It was a heartless bitch.
Unfair, unkind, and many times a liar of the worst sort.
Yet, he, Ramsey, and Lucas had turned their misfortunes into another sort of fortune, and the secrecy it created into a sort of armor.
But watching Lucas’s heart open to another had reminded Heathcliff of the betrayal of his past.
And while he was thankful for his friend’s second chance at love, he didn’t think he’d ever be willing to risk the same.
Because how could you ever trust love when all it had handed you was betrayal?
And nothing was so deceptive as betrayal at the hands of a beautiful woman.
Nothing.
