“You are too smug by half, my lord. It is not in the least attractive.”
“So I have been given to understand.” He made no attempt to temper the smile she’d correctly observed as smug. “It is perhaps unfortunate in this instance that I am not a vain man.”
Olivia’s mouth flattened in disapproval, but she returned her attention to her brother. “Where have you been, Alastair?”
“You must know that I went to see our father. Didn’t Lord Breckenridge show you my note?”
“I read it. You didn’t mention Sir Hadrien. I think you meant for me to make that assumption.”
“I wrote that I was going to apply for an advance on my allowance. Pray, to what other person might I have gone?”
“Your mother, I imagine, though I did not consider it at the time.”
Twin coins of color appeared in Alastair’s cheeks. “No. She would not have been sympathetic.”
“Was Father?”
Alastair’s eyes darted away, then slowly returned to Olivia’s. He lifted his chin slightly. “No,” he said. “Under the circumstances, he was not at all inclined to help me.”
Olivia closed her eyes, momentarily light-headed with the fullness of the difficulty facing her. She reminded herself that nothing had truly changed. Hadn’t she been facing this very thing before his arrival? She had tried so hard not to hope that he might relieve her of the burden, but her disappointment was so profound that she realized some part of her had dared to imagine a different outcome.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Griffin stirring on the edge of the desk as if he was about to make a move to assist her. To prevent him from coming to her aid, she retreated a few steps until the back of her knees came in contact with a chair, then she sat. Alastair’s face was in full profile, every one of his features drawn down at the edges. If he noticed her distress, he was too full of self-pity to lend support.
“It is not unexpected,” she said quietly. “You must have known that Sir Hadrien was unlikely to be persuaded.”
He shrugged. “There was nothing for it but to ask.”
“Of course. It was the simplest solution.” She continued to regard his wretched profile and willed her heart neither to soften nor break. “You have been gone a very long time, Alastair. Did Father invite you to stay?”
“He did. Mother also.”
“I see.”
Alastair’s head swiveled sideways. “I didn’t, Olivia. I couldn’t. Two days, that was all I stayed. I journeyed back to London that quickly.”
“But not as far as Putnam Lane,” she said. “Where did you go? Where did his lordship find you?”
Alastair’s gaze slipped away again. He said nothing.
“Where did he find you?” she repeated. Because her brother could not, or would not, answer, she turned to Griffin. “My lord?”
“Jericho Mews,” Griffin said quietly.
Olivia thought it was fortunate that she’d chosen to sit. She pressed her palms to her midriff. It was as if she’d been pummeled. The ache was that real. “You returned home?” she asked her brother. “Is that true?”
“Only now and again. The rest of the time I stayed…”
When Alastair’s voice trailed off, Olivia looked again to Griffin for an answer.
“With his mistress. It is what made him difficult to locate.”
Olivia nodded, swallowed. “I didn’t realize you’d been looking for him. How long? From the beginning?”
Griffin did not answer immediately. He considered lying, but decided that she deserved to know the truth. If she was courageous enough to ask the question, then only one answer served. “Since your second evening at the faro table.”
“My second evening? I don’t under—” Then she did. Griffin’s search was not prompted by her dealing faro. He was moved to look for her brother because of the kiss they’d shared that same night. “I think you flatter yourself overmuch, my lord. Nothing would have ever come of it.”
Griffin’s half-smile teased with its mockery. “I do not flatter myself that I am anything save determined. You underestimate me, Miss Cole.”
