Gavin sat at his usual table by the window. A waiter approached but he waved him away. He wasn’t ready to interact with anyone yet and it was too early in the morning for a whisky. God, what he would give to climb in the bottle and never come out—
“Good morning, Your Grace,” the familiar voice of Fyclan Morris said. “May I join you since it seems the two of us are the only ones up at this hour?”
“Yes,” Gavin answered, not particularly welcoming.
If Morris heard the curtness in his voice, he gave no indication but pulled out a chair, resting the cane he used against the wall. “Stout,” he said, giving his order to the waiter. “And one for His Grace as well.” The waiter bowed and left.
Fyclan gave Gavin an assessing look. Gavin knew he did not look his best and why should he?
“You are not usually in here this early,” Fyclan said, his soft Irish brogue coloring his words. “And you have the look of a man who has lost his moorings.”
Gavin didn’t answer. He had nothing to say.
Morris continued as if they were involved in a spirited conversation. “I’m always up early. First light. I don’t like dining at home. Too lonely now without Jenny.”
Gavin’s life would be “too lonely” now without Sarah.
The waiter returned with their drinks. Morris took a healthy sip of his and said, “Good news about Ben and Elin, isn’t it? Twins!”
That statement pulled Gavin out of his dark thoughts. “What?”
“You have not heard? Elin and Ben told me yesterday. Your brother had said he was going to search you out. I hope I haven’t upset their plans by tipping the teapot. When they tell you, please act as if you are hearing the news for the first time.”
“I will, I will, but now that it is out, tell me all.”
“There is not much to say. The midwife told them she is certain Elin is having twins. She believes she can feel the movement of two wee bodies inside Elin when she places her hands on her. It is a bit of a surprise because I didn’t believe Elin was showing that much. However, with the fashions the way they are, how can anyone tell if a woman is carrying or not? I know she has found moving difficult. However, the midwife cautions we could be surprised with only one, but she claims she is rarely wrong.”
Gavin sat back, a bit stunned. Twins, well, it was possible. They ran in the family. He was a twin.
He also felt more than a touch of envy.
“Here is to healthy babies,” Morris said, raising his glass in salute.
Gavin joined him.
Morris set down his tankard. “I understand from your mother that we shall be wishing you happy relatively soon. She said you are making a match with the Charnock heiress.” He nodded to the waiter that he was ready to order his breakfast.
No, not happy. And the realization that he and Leonie Charnock were becoming common gossip made Gavin unhappier. His chest grew tight as if steel bands wrapped around him, making it difficult to breathe.
As if from a distance, he heard Morris ask, “Will you have the beefsteak as well?”
Gavin frowned at him, momentarily confused, then nodded when he realized they were ordering food. The waiter left.
Morris leaned forward. “Are you feeling quite well?”
No, nothing in his life would ever be “well” again. “I’m fine.”
The man across from him nodded but the look in his eye said he didn’t believe Gavin—and suddenly Gavin needed to bolt. He wanted air and to be away from Morris’s keen sensibilities. The man was known for his careful observation.
Gavin pushed back on his chair, but Morris leaned forward. “Wait. Give me a moment of your time.”
“I don’t know that I have a moment,” Gavin replied brusquely. After all, he was a busy man. Few questioned him.
Morris was not of that number. “What is the matter with you? Are you ill?”
Gavin almost nodded his head yes and yet it was not in his nature to lie. “I have matters on my mind.”
“You don’t want to marry Miss Charnock?”
