“How are you?” Warwick got to his feet and greeted Zach. “Now I’m not with you constantly that does not mean you can fall into trouble.”
“As if it was ever me that got into trouble.” He punched his friend on the shoulder.
Warwick grinned. “You do know that I am still here for you, don’t you, my friend? That I still wish to keep you company some evenings.”
The words were spoken softly so only he could hear and made him feel lighter inside. He was no child but had been behaving as such. He’d resented what his friend had found. But no more.
“I know.”
“Sit,” Cambridge said. “You are not aiding my digestion, and this is my third pie.”
Zach sat next to Warwick.
“How much do you loathe connubial bliss?” he asked his friend.
Warwick’s smile grew.
Love, Zach sighed silently. It was all around him.
CHAPTERFOUR
Miss Mary Blake was tired and out of sorts as she walked into the Hatton Ball with her family.
“You have never asked about what I had you deliver that night, daughter.”
“Pardon?” She shot her father, who walked at her side, a look. “To what do you speak of, Father?”
Why was he discussing this now?Years after the night that had changed her life.
“Do not tarry, Mary,” her sister, Phillipa, snapped from in front of them.
“As I am just behind you and walking with Papa, I fail to see how I can be tarrying, Phillipa.” Mary’s words had a bite to them her sister failed to heed.
She had not managed to get anything tangible to give Geraint last night. Nothing from the other women at the brothel. It was vexing in the extreme. She would have to go out again tonight.
“Yes, well, stop dragging your feet then. You are walking like a carthorse,” Phillipa said.
Mary might love her sister, but she did not like her very much. She’d often wondered if in fact she had been swapped with another at birth and out there somewhere were her real parents. Mary and her sister were vastly different people.
“Don’t act the simpleton, Mary,” her father said, picking up the reins of the conversation he’d started before his eldest daughter interrupted. “You are the most intelligent member of this family and cannot pull it off,” Lord Blake said.
“Why are you asking me this now, Father?”
“I’m curious.”
She looked at the elegant figures of her mother and sister. Another thing they did not have in common. Mary was short and podgy. While her father was tall, he did have softness around his middle, so at least she shared that with him.
“You told me I must never speak of it again, Father.” Mary did not meet his eyes because he would see she was lying. He was really the only person in the Blake household who noticed anything about her when he was there and not squirreled away at his club with his cronies.
“What surprises me, knowing your penchant for digging at something until you find the truth, is that you actually listened.”
She snorted, which earned her a glare from her mother. It was true that one of her finer qualities was tenaciousness.
“Snorting is unladylike, Mary.”
“Sorry, Mother.”
“I felt the matter was grave, so I actually obeyed your wishes,” Mary said airily. She then crossed her fingers behind her back.
