“It’s no matter. I offered when I saw where she was headed.”
“Still—”
“Hugh…” he sighed.
My brother was easygoing and generous to a fault. Once he finished his studies and let a bachelor dwelling, his staff would rob him blind.
“Should you not be in school?”
“Break,” he mumbled in between enormous bites of sandwich.
I took a nibble off one. Delightful as always. Mrs. Hudson was a truly exceptional cook.
“I thought to come visit with you and Mother. Then perhaps dine with Michael.”
My half-brother’s mention earned only a grunt. It was more than he deserved. I had not spoken to him in nearly three years. Not since he insisted on opening that degenerate gaming hell of his.
It was a sore spot between Tom and me, his insistence on acknowledging the man. Our father never legitimized him, I did not see why Tom felt the need to.
“Yes, yes, I know. Michael is the devil himself. He is determined to ruin the entire family for all time and leave us all destitute.” Tom mocked me with a mouth half-full of sandwich.
“Chew your food. Were you raised in a barn?”
“Same table as you. Anyway, do you have some older ledgers I can review? I need them for one of my courses.”
I nodded my head toward the shelves under the window. My mouth was too full to answer, and unlike my brother, I had manners. Swallowing, I directed him toward the earliest books. “I shouldn’t need anything before 1807.”
“Thank you,” he said, sliding four or five of them from their dusty home. “What do you have planned for today?” He flipped them open distractedly, confirming the dates.
“Staring at letters from my solicitor until my eyes bleed.”
“Have you considered reading them?”
“Certainly not.”
We both chuckled, and he returned to the desk with a hefty stack of books. He grabbed another sandwich, chomping into it. I understood the inclination. If my access to Mrs. Hudson’s cooking were limited, I would stuff them down as well. Still, I had no idea where the boy put it all. He was a string bean, taller than me and rail thin.
“I intended to go to White’s this afternoon, but I’m exhausted. It was an… eventful evening last night.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Rosehill Ball.”
“Ah, fell desperately in love with some stunningly beautiful debutante, did you? Hopefully not the daughter, you’re not nearly fashionable enough for that family.”
“I am fashionable enough for any family. And quite the opposite. Some chit backed into me, spilling my lemonade all down my front and her back. I was forced to leave early.”
“Poor girl. I hope she managed to clean herself up.”
“Poor girl? My shirt, waistcoat, and cravat are all beyond repair. I am quite certain of it.”
“Stevens can’t clean them?”
“He says he will be able to. But I do not see how. Worse still, she insisted on attempting to dry me with a napkin. The entire ballroom got an eyeful of her caressing my chest.”
Tom’s snort of laughter was clearly at my expense. The lord punished him in short order when he inhaled a crumb and choked on it. He was left coughing between chuckles for nearly a minute.
“Am I to understand that you’re complaining about a lady rubbing your chest? You should have leaned back and enjoyed it.”
