“Back away now, Leo,” Gray said, gripping his shoulder. He could not discount the man punching Lester. Not that he’d blame him, but the Nightingales did not need any more reason to become notorious.
Suddenly, he wanted no part of this. All his father cared about was that Gray behaved in a manner he saw fit, and Viscount Lester was someone who simply saw women for breeding purposes and to run his home. Status was everything to these men. They would never change.
“Let’s go, Leo,” he said. They walked away without bowing.
“Your father is a bastard,” Leo said.
“Now wouldn’t that be amusing if he was? But I take your meaning,” Gray added. “Thank you for calling me honorable, Leo.”
“Thank you for defending my family, Gray.”
No more was said as they entered the box.
“Are you all right, Gray?” Ramsey said as he took his seat. The play had begun. “You were gone a while, and I sense tension in you.”
“I’m well, Ram, I promise.”
And Gray thought that actually he was. He’d always dreaded seeing any member of his family, and twice in the last few days, he’d met two of them, and he realized something as he’d looked at his father. His disdain could no longer hurt him. He’d found what he loved in life and did not need any member of his family to accept that or him. He also now had friends, even though he’d not been searching for them. Then there was the woman at his side who he felt a great deal more than friendship for.
“Ellen,” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes?” She looked at him, their faces now close.
“I just saw my father with Viscount Lester.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been hard.”
“Surprisingly, it wasn’t. Leo joined me, and between us, we set them straight about a few things.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled.
“Is Lester the reason you were upset? Did you see him?”
She nodded, and then annoyance flashed across her face. “I don’t know why I reacted as I did. That man is a revolting snob.”
“Perhaps with more exposure, you’ll feel able to cope?”
“Perhaps.”
“He wasn’t worthy of you, Ellen.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He battled for about a minute with what he had seen outside on the street. Ellen had the image of Olivia Nicholson fighting with her brother. She’d also seen the tattoo on the man’s arm in that room. Was the man she was with one of the Baddon Boys?
“I think we have another player in George Nicholson’s murder,” he said so only she could hear.
“Who?” She didn’t turn to look at him anymore.
“I will call at Crabbett Close when I can and tell you everything.”
She studied him for long seconds and then nodded. Ellen then faced forward once more to watch the play. Something shifted inside him as he stared at her side profile. An inevitability that he could no longer fight. Before he’d realized what he was doing, Gray leaned closer until his mouth was inches from her ear.
“I care about you, Miss Ellen Nightingale.”
Her lips lifted. Gray faced forward, and then it was her turn to whisper in his ear.
“I care about you also, Detective Grayson Fletcher.”
