CHAPTER14
Vaughn had never been close to his family. His parents were like many people of their station—they had kept a respectable distance from their children. He didn’t recall many moments of warmth or familial attachment. He had a sister, Emily, now a viscountess, but they hadn’t ever been close either. She wrote him from time to time, they had supper once or twice during a Season and occasionally shared a holiday, but it was a cooler connection than even some of his acquaintanceships.
So when he sat in the parlor after a raucous supper with the Comerford sisters, Silas and their aunt, he couldn’t help but be captivated by their bond. They were a delight to behold as a group. The sisters, especially, were enchanting. They could say a thousand words with just a look between them. They had personal jokes that made their eyes sparkle. And there was an intense protectiveness shared between them.
How lucky one would be to be invited into that sphere as Silas Windham had been when he married Arabella. Occasionally, he caught Windham watching the three sisters just as Vaughn was and he would smile like he enjoyed the exercise just as much.
The youngest sister, Julia, looked between the two men with a smile. “Now, I’ve heard you and Silas were once in school together, Blackburn. Did you get up to ridiculous antics?”
Silas grinned toward him. “Blackburn was a bit wilder back then, though not as wild as I was.”
Vaughn chuckled. “I’d wager there were few as wild as you were. God, how much fun it was to watch you tweak every one of the beaks.”
“Beaks?” Evelina asked with a shake of her head. “What’s that?”
“Apologies, Eton has its own silly little language,” Vaughn explained. “A beak is what we called the masters.”
“The teachers,” Silas supplied, and all four women nodded. “I did play my pranks and set my fires.”
Vaughn snorted. “Metaphorical and once literal, yes?”
Silas bent his head. “To be fair, I didn’t know the pamphlets would go up like that.”
“Good Lord,” Arabella said with a laugh as she came to link her arm through her husband’s. She stared at him with pure adoration even as she teased, “You are hopeless.”
“Entirely,” he agreed. “And trust that I was punished for it. Lashings every Friday. I couldn’t have my streak broken, could I?”
Evelina’s lips parted. “They beat you?”
Silas’s jaw tightened a little and Vaughn also felt the swell of anxiety at the topic of the school’s infamous disciplinary system. “They did. Done by both the beaks and the prefects—those are the head boys who are allowed to mete out punishment. Always colossal pricks. You never became one after I left, did you, Blackburn?”
Vaughn shook his head. “No. Though Southwater did.”
Silas arched a brow. “See, colossal pricks.”
Evelina let out her breath and it was just a little shaky. “Harry used to speak fondly about his time as a head boy at the school. I had no idea about the beating part. It seems I knew very little, or perhaps purposefully ignored the signs out of foolishness.”
Their aunt Caroline took Evelina’s hand. “Dearest, as unsavory as it is, Eton is known for these things and always has been, at least quietly amongst those of theton. And Southwater betrayed you in a great many ways, none of which was your fault.”
“I agree,” Vaughn said, and held her gaze from across the parlor. “Noneof it was your fault, Evie.”
She blushed slightly. “Thank you.”
Silas went to the sideboard and poured another drink for Evelina. As he handed it over, he said, “You three know better than most that men can be very good at hiding their true natures. I always thought Southwater was an arse. But he didn’t show you that side until pretending it wasn’t there no longer suited his purpose.” He glanced at Vaughn. “Actually, Blackburn, I have to say I was always surprised you were friends with him both back then and even more recently. You never came across as much more than avaguearse.”
Vaughn couldn’t help but laugh, even though he’d guess that a man like Silas would very much see him as exactly that: a tolerable nob.
“I think that’s about as high a praise as I can expect from you, Windham. So I’ll take it.” He sighed. “And as for Southwater…I suppose he was a bad habit after a while. As boys you don’t often get to fully choose your friends. Our fathers were friendly, we were thrown together at gatherings and at school. We were of similar rank and age. It made sense. As we grew, I perhaps foolishly overlooked some of his worse impulses. I excused casual cruelties as him only having a bad moment.”
“It’s easy to do,” Evelina said, and their gazes held. “We were both fools that way.”
“But we never will be again,” he said softly.
She nodded. “I suppose all we can do is grow from it.”
He stiffened. It was a lovely idea that they would both become stronger or better people through this painful time. But was that what was happening? Was it growing to be playing games? Pretending a relationship? Taking pleasure in tweaking Southwater and Florence?
He knew the answer. He hated himself a little for it.
