Payton winced. “Hard to credit that, old chum, given your reputation.”
James drew himself up, then slumped again as he couldn’t summon any righteous indignity.
“Raffish, yes,” he agreed. “But prone to adultery? No! Why would I get into the suds with other men’s wives when there are lonely widows aplenty, especially since the war?”
“And then there’s your mistress.”
“Exactly. Usually I don’t even bother looking elsewhere, but this captain’s wife was all over me like a vixen on a mouse.”
“You’re the mouse, I take it.”
“She lied and she enticed,” James fumed. “As a rule, I leave married women alone. I wouldn’t want to be cuckolded so I don’t do it to others. What’s wrong with these knavish females?”
“More than one?” his friend prompted.
“If you combine her wretched actions with that of another conniving wench I met two months ago.”
He thought about the dark-haired and deceitful Miss Talbot. His pride had been pricked, thinking she truly fancied him. Moreover, he had really enjoyed her company and her kisses until she’d shown her true colors. He wouldn’t name her. That would be most ungentlemanly.
“A young lady tried to trick me into compromising her. She was intent on setting the perfect parson’s mousetrap. It nearly worked, too.”
“Poor Hargrove, always the victim in the affairs of the bedchamber.” Payton’s grin filled his whole face.
“I tell you this time it was the dog,” James grumbled. “He had it in for me. After the room filled with his noxious vapors, the captain’s lady jumped up, drew back the curtains, and raised the sash, intent on providing us both a little air. She was bare as Eve!” He ran a hand through his hair. “She didn’t know her husband had put a watch on the house to keep her safe.”
“Safe?” Payton echoed, then chuckled.
“You know what I mean. To keep her from sharing her apple dumplings and woman’s wares, which are quite fabulous, I tell you.” He tried to think back to the married beauty, but instead Miss Talbot’s luscious figure came to mind. She was a fine bit of muslin and no mistaking that. He had hoped to do more than merely kiss her and fill his hand with her soft, full breast.
At least with the captain’s wife, he’d got around to stripping her bare and stroking her smooth skin. He ought to be relieved he hadn’t tupped her since he could’ve found himself in even worse trouble. On the other hand, he’d been royally taken to task by a hypocritical prince who was enjoying a well-known affair with the lovely and very married Marchioness of Hertford. Thus, all things considered, seeing how he’d ended up exiled from London, James might as well have enjoyed the lady thoroughly.
Payton nodded with understanding. “I suppose any good husband would hire a watchman while across the Channel fighting Boney.”
“You would take his side, wouldn’t you? Damn dog!” James had wasted the better part of an evening cozying up to the woman who’d caught his eye at Vauxhall.
“And so, upon the evidence of her showing her pretty cat’s heads to the street, the watchman told her husband you were there having a slice,” Payton summed it up succinctly.
James shook his head. “The dog was my downfall. Suddenly, it jumped up and went to the open window, paws on the sill—”
“The tiny dog reached the sill?” Payton wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter any more.
James shrugged. “Maybe it was a wee bit bigger than a rat. It started baying at the moon or scenting a bitch for all I know. Raised a holy ruckus. The lady asked me to get up and drag him back, which I stupidly did. There we were, my bare chestandhers, the bright moonlight on us both.”
“If only it had been a regular cloudy, sooty London eve.” His friend shook his head in mock sympathy.
“True,” James griped. “What are the odds? Anyway, I heard a man yell and knew the jig was up. I got out of there in a hurry, tripped over the damn dog, nearly shattering my skull, but he confronted me at the door. By mid-morning, I was summoned to Carlton House, given a reprimand on account of the captain’s closeness with Prinny’s brother, and banished to this godforsaken place.”
Payton grimaced, and James spread his hands.
“My apologies. I know for you Brighton is home most of the year. But I’m a Londoner through and through. I’ve been sent into exile as surely as Bonaparte to St. Helena, and with as little hope of returning to the mainland, or in my case to the civilization that is Mayfair.”
“Don’t worry,” Payton promised. “London’s worst toadies have arrived to keep you company. This place will be packed for two weeks before Prinny’s birthday, a week at least of birthday celebrations, and probably a week after.”
“Then what?” James tipped his glass and drained the strong beer.
“Then it goes back to being a godforsaken place.” Payton declared. “But it’s an easier task, overseeing the Prince Regent’s holdings, when he’s away.”
“I’m not a caretaker!” James pointed out.
