“I’m not angry, I’m focused. Please note the difference,” Warwick taunted his friend. “Plus, your brother is correct. You have slowed down in your old age. Perhaps all the drinking and late-night debauchery has become too much for you.”
“We are of similar ages,” Zach said, smiling. He was natured like Cam and could rarely be insulted. “And as you are with me most nights, I fail to see how you are not suffering from late-night debauchery also.”
“Nice punch, Sinclair.”
Warwick nodded to the stranger who clearly knew him standing outside the ring.
“Good God, Nightingale, how long has it been?” Nathan said, shaking the man’s hand.
Ellen Nightingale’s uncle had recently returned. It must be him, Warwick thought. At least she now had his support, seeing as her father was a wastrel.
“Back to my earlier question, why is it you are angry, Warwick?” Zach asked. He was moving his jaw from side to side.
“Oh dear, does it hurt?”
“I was just checking. It would not do to break the hearts of the young women in society if I were unable to attend this evening’s social event.”
“Do you not get tired of that?” Warwick’s tone was testy.
“What?”
“The flirting and continual flattery?”
Zach smiled again. The smile Warwick saw him use most evenings that had women falling at his feet. He’d never mastered it. He knew women liked him, but nothing like Zach, and to be honest, that was a relief. He hated all the simpering and compliments.
A vision of Samantha slipped into his head. He ruthlessly pushed it aside.
“I love it.”
“You are an embarrassment.” Nathan threw his brother a cloth to wipe the sweat from his face. “A word if I may, Charlton, Sinclairs?”
Warwick slipped through the ropes and joined Ash, Wolf, and Nathanial Deville.
“Problem?” Wolf asked.
“As to that I’m unsure. A few nights ago I was in a tavern called the Duck and Goose which is—”
“We know it,” Wolf said.
“It’s not exactly disreputable but close,” Nathan continued. “A woman bumped into me while I was there. I steadied her, and she apologized. I thought her voice sounded familiar, yet I could not see her face clearly, as she wore a cloak with the hood up.”
For some reason the hairs on the back of Warwick’s neck rose. The woman he’d seen two nights ago had been cloaked. The one who had climbed into his hackney and sounded like Samantha.
“I can’t be certain, but I had a feeling it was Lady Samantha,” Nathan said.
Shock held Warwick, Wolf, and Ash silent for several seconds.
“I’m not sure what reason my cousin would have to be there.” Ash spoke first.
“What time was this?” Warwick asked.
“Midnight, two nights ago,” Nathan said.
The same night he’d seen that woman. Surely it hadn’t been Samantha? What possible reason was there for her to be there?
“As I said, I did not get a good look at her face, but it was Lady Samantha I thought of first when I heard her speak,” Nathan added.
“I’m sure it wasn’t her, but I thank you just the same for telling us, Deville,” Wolf said.
