“I am hearing every word. You just confided that you have a new mistress. I am waiting to learn her name but wondering if you plan to share it.”
“I think not now. What the hell are you staring at? You look like a tiger eyeing his prey.” He turned his head to search the crowd in the ballroom. “Bad enough you talked me into attending. You know I dislike crushes like this, and Lady Prideux knows no restraint in her invitations. You could at least occupy me with conversation.”
“I needed you here. He may cut me, but he will never cut you.”
“Who is he?”
“Hollsworth. Come with me.”
Adam took three steps before realizing Brentworth had not followed. He looked back to see Brentworth’s severe face at its most ducal.
“I am going nowhere,” Brentworth said. “Not unless you are forthright about why I am going wherever there is. And before you say a word, let me make as clear as a bell’s toll that I will not agree to be your second if you challenge Hollsworth. He is an old man, and a duel would be the same as cold-blooded murder.”
“Do you think I am capable of that?”
Brentworth sighed. “Of course not. It is just—” He sighed again. “Lead the way. Try not to force me to lose an old friend tonight. My father knew Hollsworth for decades.”
“I do not think you will lose his friendship tonight.”
“I was not referring to that particular friendship, Stratton.”
Adam led the way through the crowd to the terrace doors. “It is damp tonight. Heavy fog. I do not think we will have much company.”
That fog hung low enough that Hollsworth’s lone form barely showed near the stone balustrade.
“What is he doing out here? Ah, he has a cigar,” Brentworth whispered. “He is having the devil of a time lighting it, though. He won’t stay long.”
“Invite him to join us.” Adam removed two cigars from his coat.
“You will never get those lit in this weather.”
“Invite him. I will get them lit.”
Brentworth made a display of peering through the mist. “Hollsworth, is that you there? Join us. You and I can share a wager on whether my companion can raise a flame.”
Hollsworth peered in turn. “Brentworth. I did not see you there. If you can provide a flame, you are better than I. Damnable fog.”
He sidled over. Only when he reached Brentworth’s side did he see Adam. Resigned dismay showed behind the thick spectacles.
Adam used his match on the underside of the terrace’s balustrade and lifted the flame. Hollsworth made use of it quickly, then Brentworth. It went out before Adam even attempted to light his own cigar.
“This is much better than that crush in there,” Brentworth said.
“I hate it myself,” Hollsworth said. “My wife always wants to attend, but I plead off when I can. At my age, balls hold no interest. They are for the young, like you two. A chance to eye all those young girls.”
“Normally we would be doing just that, but the terrace drew Stratton here instead.”
“Well, there is nothing like a good smoke, I agree.”
“It was not the chance to smoke that drew him. It was you.”
Hollsworth calmly puffed. He did not look pleased. Then again, he did not move away.
“He does need to know,” Brentworth said. “I am sure you agree.”
“If he is looking to fight someone, I do not have a name for him.”
“I only want to know the accusation against my father,” Adam said. “It cannot have only been a vague rumor.”
