“A mistress?” Pickmore raised an eyebrow and nodded as if he approved. “Good for you. Now I won’t worry so much.”
“You needn’t worry at all.” Henry’s irritation mounted. He was worried enough for both of them. Most gentlemen do change as they grow older and have further responsibilities thrust upon them, but Henry hadn’t realized just how ill-humored he’d actually become until Pickmore’s return.
Did he even laugh anymore?
“I wouldn’t worry if I hadn’t returned and found you hiding in your library.”
“I wasn’t hiding!”
“Yes, well according to your mother, you haven’t attended a single ball, soiree, musical, luncheon, picnic, breakfast, or any societal event this spring. If you ask me, that is hiding.”
“You spoke to my mother?” Henry nearly choked.
Pickmore lifted his chin, as if affronted somehow. “Of course, I called on her upon my return.”
“Before me?” Even though by rights, Henry should be residing in the mansion with his mother, he had remained in his own townhouse so that he could carry on his work without interruption.
Why the blazes did he care if Pickmore had visited his mother first? Yet, it did hurt somehow. Maybe it was because Henry knew deep down that his mother preferred Pickmore to her own son.
“Why, yes. You know how I adore the countess.” He ended the statement with a grin.
“Actually, I’ve been far too busy to consider such entertainments.” Something Pickmore was very much aware, unlike Henry’s mother.
“The work you do is beneficial and appreciated, but even our superiors can’t expect you to forgoallenjoyment.” Pickmore leaned forward to open the door.
Henry couldn’t afford to shirk his duties either.
“Ah, I can see it in your face. No need to answer.” Pickmore laughed. “You, my friend, are in need of amusement.” He held out an arm gesturing to the door. “Adventure awaits.”
“Perhaps you’re correct,” Henry offered with a sigh.
Pickmore settled back against the squabs. “What is the matter with you Kilsyth? You’ve been dispirited since my return.”
Yes, he had been. “I’m not certain, Pickmore.” Now was not the time to discuss what plagued him. Not in front of a brothel at least. “Other than I’ve grown bored perhaps.” Which was also the truth. Henry hadn’t faced a challenge in a very long time. And even though he was diligent in this work and training, the instruction he provided had become, well, wearisome.
“Bored?”
“There are no challenges left.” Henry frowned and glanced back at the house. There was truth in his statement as well, however, adventure between a whore’s thighs was not what he needed. The problem was, he didn’t knowwhathe wanted or needed. “There’s something missing,” he finally said. “As if there is this gaping hole that needs to be filled, yet I don’t know with what.” And, he was afraid he might always feel that way.
Pickmore grinned and nodded to the house.
“Not that,” Henry dismissed. He was lonely, but that wasn’t something he wished to voice aloud either. Henry had thought when his friend returned and took up residence in Henry’s townhouse, things might improve. However, they had not. In fact, it only led Henry to realize how empty his life truly was because he didn’t possess half the enthusiasm when embracing any activity that Pickmore suggested.
However, he’d go along and wait while Pickmore took care of his needs, and then perhaps they could finally return home. “I do leave my house,” Henry argued as he pulled himself from the comfortable carriage. “Why just last week I attended a presentation on Egyptian artifacts given at the Society of Antiquarians. Furthermore, I’ve taken my seat in the House of Lords and have not missed a vote or debate.” In a flash, he remembered what Pickmore had written from his time in Egypt. “You were in Egypt when the artifacts were taken from the French.”
Pickmore scrunched his face as if he’d just gotten the whiff of a most unpleasant odor. “Good God, you’re worse than your mother led me to believe, and I don’t want to talk about Egypt or the artifactsnow.” He strode for the entrance of the gaming hell and brothel, then stepped inside. “But I am not one to run from a challenge. Come along, Kilsyth. You will enjoy yourself tonight, even if it kills you.”
That was highly doubtful, but Henry followed his friend inside. Perhaps he had become rather dull of late, but it wasn’t without purpose. Besides avoiding marriage-minded misses, he had been busy grooming old and new agents for their roles across the Continent, and every other corner of the world where Napoleon might send or already have troops amassed. Those under him were trained and prepared to blend in with the locals for the soul purpose of obtaining information for the Crown. He’d become diligent in his training and making certain not one piece of information was left untaught.
“Women, Hazard, brandy or all?” Pickmore asked.
In the large drawing room, decorated in decadent golds and reds, were women who wore very little and lounged on the laps of gentlemen Henry recognized from the House of Lords and from Whites. Not all of the women were on laps, some were looking for laps, but none would be sitting on his. Pickmore, however, had no difficulty finding a chair, ordering a brandy and motioning to a rather buxom brunette to settle upon him.
“If you aren’t going to partake, Kilsyth, perhaps Hazard would be of interest,” he called with a grin as he wrapped a hand around the woman’s hip. “The rooms are in the back.”
“Hazard.” Henry didn’t even wager on horses and they were better odds than a roll of the dice.
“Oh, let loose of some of your wealth. It’s not as if an evening spent inside will leave you in debtor’s prison.”
