“Glenaire again? Interfering bastard,” Ethan growled.
Will chuckled. “He is that; all for our everlasting good, of course. He believes the war department is now obliged to inform your father you are alive.”
Ethan paled and gripped his glass. “Did you save that to pounce on me over port?”
The earl went on. “I convinced him not to, that you needed time to do it yourself. But Ethan, he’s right.”
Ethan’s eyes strayed to the wall above Will’s left shoulder while his mind darted through bits of this painful conversation. “Wellington sent in a detachment to restore order the next morning?” Ethan asked at last, half his mind wondering how he might disappear again.
“Yes—too late and it wasn’t effective.” Will stared into his drink. “I heard it didn’t stop until he erected a gallows in the cathedral square,” he murmured.
“Did he? I—”
“You were gone by then, weren’t you?” Will murmured gently.
Ethan would not answer that. “Shall we go back to the Albany?”
Will rose. “As soon as we say good bye to the ladies.” He started for the door before saying offhandedly, “You need to say it, Ethan, whatever it is. Get it off your soul and move on.” He didn’t wait for a reply.
* * *
Flo listened to Georgiana with half an ear for almost an hour, her vision darting to the door.
“They may leave without saying good-bye,” Georgie pointed out.
Her companion’s sympathy brought heat to Flo’s cheeks. Had her growing interest in Lord Ethan Alcott become obvious? “He hated being here,” she said.
“He struggled with polite conversation,” Georgie agreed.
“Will is trying to bring him back to, to—not society precisely,” Flo couldn’t quite find the word for what she meant.
“Humanity? Or at least, comfort in human interaction? I don’t think any of us completely understand the darkness he has been in.”
Flo nodded. “Perhaps light is the word I meant. Bring him back to the light where there are other realities besides war.”
Before Georgie could reply, the door opened and the men stepped in but did not sit. “We’ll take our leave of you ladies,” Will said.
“Yes, thank you for dinner,” Lord Ethan added, rather, Flo thought, as a schoolboy might repeat his tutor’s lessons in etiquette. He studied the floor, waiting for Will with a coiled tension that put her in mind of a man about to bolt.
“I’ll see you to the door,” Flo said, raising a defiant chin to her brother, who bit back a grin. Lord Ethan’s startled glance told her he’d rather endure a tooth extraction than her company.
She returned his scowl with her best smile, strolled toward the men, and took the arm Lord Ethan failed to offer. Will pretended not to notice. At the door, her brother remembered papers he meant to fetch from his study, turned, and, before Flo or her companion could react, left them.
Suddenly alone with him, flustered and uncertain, Flo removed her hand from the poor man’s arm. His ill-at-ease demeanor left her searching through her catalog of polite small talk: books he can’t have read, gossip he likely missed, social calendars he wasn’t on. She rejected the weather out of hand.
“How are you finding my brother’s rooms at the Albany?” she blurted out finally.Better than the alley behind Finnegan’s, no doubt.Her face burned at that bit of stupidity, and she feared she looked as red as she felt.
“Well enough,” he responded, looking desperate.
She longed to ask what he planned to do with himself, longed to know how he felt about her brother’s interference.
“Your brother means well,” he said, as if he read her mind.
“He usually does,” she answered ruefully. “Brothers think they know best. They can be the very devil…” For one moment, she saw sympathy in his eyes as if he, too, knew that brothers could be—Of course. She reached over and put her hand on his arm.
“Your brother must care about you very much. Whatever you’ve seen and done, secrets fester. You have to get it out. Go to your brother. You—” Only Will’s reappearance stopped her babbling; the panic in Ethan’s face alarmed her.
Will frowned from one to the other but didn’t ask uncomfortable questions. “The carriage has been brought round,” he said, bowing to his sister and stepping out. Lord Ethan ran after him as if the hounds of Hell nipped at his heels.
