“Of course, my lord.”
Short, solid, and somber, John Chadderly had been the son of the cook at Blackwood Hall. Those who considered themselves above him treated him terribly. It had been Anthony and his friends who protected him. Ever since, he had worked for one or the other of them, and eventually became Toby’s butler.
Handing over his hat, Anthony then walked to the stairs that would take him up to the next floor.
The interior of Toby’s house was elegant and grand. He was the last in a long line of viscounts who had simply added to the family coffers over the centuries. Huge portraits hung in gilded frames. Two lions symbolizing the bravery of past viscounts flanked the Corbyn coat of arms. Anthony’s feet sank into plush carpets as he climbed to where he knew his friend would be.
Reaching the top, he turned right, and then stopped before a door. Knocking, he entered and found two of the six people he trusted most in the world.
Lord Tobias Corbyn and Lord Jamieson Stafford. They’d met when they moved into accommodations at Blackwood Hall, and their friendship had strengthened over the following years of abuse. Their ranks had not saved them. In fact, nothing but unity and Anthony’s aunts had done that.
“And here he is, society’s most infamous rake,” Toby said. He lounged in a chair with his booted feet resting on his antique desk. The shortest of them but only by half an inch, he was the largest, with arms that rivaled tree branches. He had brown hair and eyes, with a wit only he understood.
Society saw him as a charming gentleman who was happy being one of their most eligible bachelors. A man with everything he wanted at his fingertips, and with few worries. They were wrong.
It was rare he let the polite facade slip, but the few times Anthony had seen it, he’d known, that like him, Toby suffered from their past. He was just better at hiding his darkness.
“He’s scowling, which is never a good sign,” the other man in the room said.
The Marquess of Stafford was tall and carried no spare weight on his body. He rarely sat still, and if he wasn’t boxing, he was fencing with someone. Dark-haired with green eyes, women flocked to him. Little did they know the demons the man carried beneath that wicked smile.
“Why have you called us together?” Toby asked.
“I was at Hugh’s the other night—”
“Again? Good God, man, learn to sleep like the rest of us,” Jamie said.
“But then, how would he maintain his reputation?” Toby added.
“If I may finish?”
Jamie waved a hand at him to continue.
“Beaton lost everything at the tables,” Anthony added. “I found him with a pistol when I was walking home. A Frenchman called Mr. Renee was with him, attempting to stop the idiot from putting a bullet through his skull.”
Toby swore loudly but Anthony knew that like Jamie, the words, they will never walk alone,would run through their heads.
“He is one of us, even if the man is a fool,” Anthony added.
“And his son is a good man, but this will destroy his reputation and that of his two sisters, who are a great deal younger and as yet have not entered society.” Toby spoke the words slowly while that fertile mind of his worked through the problem with which they were now faced.
“Did he lose everything?”
“Enough to make him want to leave the mess he’d created to his son,” Anthony said, disgusted. “They will arrive in an hour, so we must work through what is to be done before then.”
“Noblemen,” Jamie sighed. “Lord, save us from them.”
They spent the next hour outlining a plan which Beaton would have to implement, even if he didn’t like it. Only then would he be able to repay the debt and not destroy his family’s legacy. It would take time to rebuild what he had recklessly lost in a single evening, but it could be done.
Anthony began investing years ago with the help of his man of affairs. Toby and Jamie had followed suit. Their wealth had steadily grown because of it, and now they could help others do so, if they wished to listen. He hoped Beaton would.
“I just saw Cavendish,” Anthony said when they had finished.
“We see that revolting excuse for a man most evenings. What is different about today?” Toby asked.
A vision of Cavendish standing over him with a whip flashed through Anthony’s head. He dismissed it. That man could no longer hurt any of them.
The three of them had entered that place on the same day excited about what the future held. Eager to experience what their fathers had. They soon realized they’d been sent to hell.
