The anger fizzled out of Matthew like a doused candle.
“Not you, too.” But he had an inkling he knew what his friend was talking about. They’d celebrated leaving Cambridge with a rather boisterous carousing. It might have lasted a week. Quinn had introduced him to the lady he was favoring at the time, and somehow, by week’s end, Matthew ended up in her boudoir, exhilarated by liquor, by life, and by living in the greatest city in the world. His celebration entailed a feather bed jig with his friend’s love interest.
Quinn had shrugged it off with a quip about not seeing her again as he didn’t fancya buttered bun.
“Dammit, man,” Matthew said. “I barely remember her, and I didn’t think you cared that much.”
Quinn’s eyes darkened as he held up his glass of wine and stared into its ruby depths.
“I don’t now, but back then, I did. And strangely, I still remember her. She had a sweet smile and a dusting of freckles. She married a soldier and lives in Birmingham.”
Then he shook his head. “If I had cared greatly, if you had broken me, then what? You couldn’t undo what you did.”
Matthew stared. Lately, more than once, he was starting to think he’d taken his happy bachelor life to unwise extremes.
“Any woman who would pick me over you was a terrible judge of character and not worth your sparing her another thought, sweet smile or not. She simply wasn’t worthy of you. In fact, you might be thankful I sussed out her true nature since she was more than willing to let me tup her.”
Quinn didn’t appear appeased. “Is that how you justify it? Or is that your apology?”
“Neither.Thisis my apology.” Matthew rose to his feet. “I’m sorry I wapped her. I was stupid and selfish. You are my friend, and I let my prick get in the way of honor.”
He reached out his hand across the space between them, willing Quinn to take it. After a moment, he did. They shook, and Matthew regained his chair, feeling better about the day.
Then Quinn smiled.
“It must be a pretty big prick because it has gotten in your way a lot.”
“If I have to go around and apologize to every man I’ve cuckolded, then I won’t have time for anything else.” Matthew shook his head. “That was a joke and a gross overstatement. I swear, most of the females in my life have been unattached.”
“If you say so.”
Matthew thought it was true. Hoped it was true.
“Do you think Varley told that tawdry tale toThe Times?” Quinn asked.
“It makes sense if he holds a grudge over the loss of his fiancée, although I cannot imagine why he holds me in any way accountable.”
Quinn drained his glass. “Maybe Lady Varley tattled to the newspaper.”
Matthew shrugged. “Maybe.” Suddenly he felt weary. “I hope I haven’t left it too late to become respectable.”
“I thought it would be the reign of Queen Dick before you made yourself all plummy.”
Matthew grinned at his friend’s sarcasm, then rose to his feet. His stomach was grumbling, and he was glad they were going for a good meal.
“You made me see things a little differently, and for that, I am grateful. Tomorrow, I had best go to that daunting Diamond residence and talk to my fiancée. I hope things are still plummy there, too.”
“I say you might still want to think about appeasing Lady Varley,” Quinn said. “She might have some more wicked tricks down her décolletage if you don’t.”
That erased the smile from Matthew’s face.
“I am glad I came over and disturbed your toilette, although your cravat could use another try.” Knowing his friend liked a level of perfection in his appearance, it was the best way to annoy him.
As expected, Quinn went to the round mirror behind a wall sconce and tried to examine his neckcloth, while Matthew strode to the door.
“Come along, I was speaking in jest. But perhaps your valet is in need of spectacles. I won’t even make mention of the rat’s nest he made of your hair until we’re in the carriage.”
Purity was going fora walk. She imagined it would feel good to go into one of London’s boxing clubs and use her fists on someone. She’d never had that inclination before, butThe Timeshad barely concealed her identity in the paper the day before.
