“Yes, we should,” Dr. Talbot agreed. “Come along Emory, before we are scolded further.”
As the two began in the direction of Dr. Talbot’s home, Violet walked with them to make certain they arrived without further interruption or disruption to the community.
“Where have the two of you been?” she asked.
“Crawley’s Tavern,” Ferrard answered. “Fine ale.”
“The tavern is two streets over and close to your home, Dr. Talbot.” Why had they walked three blocks out of their way?
“Emory needed to check on Tommy to make certain he was watching.”
Violet blew out a heavy sigh. Tommy’s presence was unnecessary but arguing with gentlemen deep in their cups was a waste of time. “It appears that you enjoyed a great deal of ale this evening.”
“Not as much as you believe, Lady Violet,” Dr. Talbot answered. “Despite what you may believe, neither Emory nor I are drunk.”
If that were true, Lord Ferrard would not be allowing her to follow to make certain they arrived at Dr. Talbot’s home knowing she’d need to return to the Harleys’ on her own. However, she’d humor him. “I admit, you are not slurring your words and are able to walk unassisted, but you were quite loud.” Dr. Talbot’s pace was a bit unsteady. Lord Ferrard, however, was able to walk a straighter line without veering one direction or the other. That didn’t mean that he was any less inebriated than his brother.
“I blame the disturbance on Liam, if you must know,” Ferrard said.
“The two of you were equally loud,” Violet reminded him.
“Yes, but he started it,” Ferrard insisted.
Why did gentlemen often turn into petulant children when they drank?
“Yes, but you are older,” Dr. Talbot argued.
Violet blew out another sigh. Thankfully, Dr. Talbot’s home was not so far, and when they reached the residence she waited on the walk for the two gentlemen to find their way inside. Dr. Talbot did though Ferrard remained by her side, staring down at her.
“Is there something you needed, Lord Ferrard?”
He and Liamhad imbibed a bit more than they should have, but neither one was as deep in their cups as Violet assumed. Though, perhaps Liam was, but not him.
“I need to return you to the Harley home.”
“I’m perfectly capable of returning on my own, Lord Ferrard.”
“I’ve no doubt that you are. However, who knows what lurks in the darkness, and I’ll not have you harmed.”
She blew out a belabored breath. The third since she’d stepped from the house. “No harm will come to me. This is Laswell, I’ve lived here my entire life.”
“Are we going to repeat the same discussion we had at the lighthouse because you can’t possibly know who is out and about.”
“I’d rather you were safely within your brother’s home.”
“And not disturbing the neighbors, yes, I know,” he acknowledged. “Therefore, I pledge to be very quiet as I escort you back.”
“You are drunk, Lord Ferrard.”
“No, Violet, I am not.” He grinned. “I’m simply a bit beery, and quite capable of taking care of you.”
“You should still sleep it off.” She pointed up the stairs.
Why must she argue? It was almost as if she didn’t wish his presence. Surely that was not possible. She nearly allowed him to kiss her today. “If I were inebriated, I’d be foolish enough to take your suggestion, however, as I am not, do you really think that I’d allow you to walk back alone, this late in the evening?”
“You allowed me to see that you arrived home, which is evidence that you, Lord Ferrard, are not thinking clearly and should retire.”
He grinned at her. “Ah, but had I not allowed you to follow along, then I’d not be able to escort you back without a chaperone following.”
