Bray helped his boyhood friend to stand. He and Harrison Thornwick had met their first term at Eton and remained good friends.
“Damnation, Harrison, you have better sense than to be on this street alone at this time of night.”
“Obviously not.” He held his side and winced as he tried to bend down to get his coin purse.
“I’ve got it,” Bray said, grabbing the small leather bag and the buttons off the ground. He handed the items to Harrison.
“Hell’s teeth,” Harrison swore as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his bruised hand. “There was a time I could take three thugs rather handily. Nearing thirty, I guess I’m getting too old.”
Bray looked at his friend. He seemed as fit as he was the day he’d left his teens behind and turned twenty. Bray and Harrison were of the same height and build. They were both tall, strong men, and neither of them had ever been intimidated by another man’s purse or power. Bray was certain age and ability had nothing to do with Harrison’s being overwhelmed by the men. He was simply outnumbered and spent.
“You’re just out of practice. How many fights have you had since you left London?”
“Not many,” Harrison said, putting his money and buttons in his pocket. “None recently.”
“My point.” Bray pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to the man. “You probably could have taken those footpads if you’d been on your toes and had a weapon with you. I saw you get in more than a few good punches before they took you down.”
Harrison frowned and grunted again. “You saw the fight, you bloody blackguard? Just how long did you watch them pound me before you decided to help?”
“Well, I would have stepped in sooner if I’d known it was you.” Bray grinned. “When did you get back to London? Last I heard, you were in Turkey or India or some other godforsaken place.”
Harrison held his side and grunted some more, laughing as he touched the handkerchief to the corner of his lip. “Stop making me laugh, Bray. I think they cracked a rib. Oh, sorry about that slip. I received the news about your father. I should have said ‘Your Grace.’”
“We’ve known each other too long to start using titles now. I still shudder when I think about you calling me Lord Lockington when we first met at Eton. What were we, nine or ten years old?”
Harrison nodded. “AndIstill remember your father looking down at me and saying, ‘Young man, you will address my son by his appropriate title, or I’ll have you thrown out of this school and see that you never step foot in another.”
Bray laughed at Harrison’s attempt to sound like the old duke. “He did enjoy intimidating people, no matter their age. I think you had a few stern warnings about the penalties of not using my title from the headmaster as well, didn’t you?”
“More than a few, and I knew quite well what the penalty was. I was getting my knuckles rapped at least once or twice a week for failing to address you as Lord Lockington.”
“But I told you then I was Bray, and I’ll remain Bray to you today.”
“As you wish when we’re alone, but I’ll be respectful of your title when others are around.”
“Fair enough.”
Harrison’s smile faded and his eyes turned somber. “Your letter about Adam’s wife caught up with me a month or so ago. How’s he doing?”
Bray looked away. Adam’s tragedy and Prim’s death were two things he tried not to think about. “I haven’t heard from him since he left London. He didn’t want to stay here, as you can imagine. He owns a cottage somewhere along the northern coast of Yorkshire. He was going there.”
“I suppose I’d want to get away, too, if I lost my wife while she was trying to give birth to my son.”
“And then to lose his son, too,” Bray added, trying not to remember the pain he’d seen on Adam’s face when the physician told him she and the child were gone. “It wasn’t easy for him to accept.”
“Do you think we should travel up that way and try to find him? Just to see how he’s doing?”
“It’s been three months,” Bray said. “I think enough time has passed. He might be ready to see a friendly face. And I wouldn’t mind getting out of London for a few days either. Now, where’s your driver?”
“I don’t have one. I’ve been gone over two years, remember. I have to rebuild my staff. I hired a hackney to bring me here. I was waiting for one to drive by so I could flag him, when I was jumped from behind.”
“Lesson learned.”
“You’re still a blackguard.”
“Always will be.” Bray gave him a cocky grin. “There’s a reason for that old saying that a leopard can’t change his spots. Are you here just to enjoy the Season or have you decided your wandering days are over and you plan to stay in London?”
“I’ve seen enough of the world.”
