“Daniel, I need to get you up.”
“I’m sorry, Jem . . . You’re a gem.”
He slurred. He sounded drunk and adorable.
His hand touched my cheek. “So pretty. Don’t slap me too.”
“No. Now cooperate, Daniel.”
I tugged his arms and made him sit.
“Whoa. Oh. This hurts. And the world is moving. You feel it?”
“Come on, Daniel. You have to move. Help me. We can’t explain this.”
“You need help? You know I’d do anything for you.”
If he weren’t inebriated, out of his mind on brandy, I’d put his words in my heart. “Then help me. Stand up.”
My pulling started his moving, but at a pace slower than a snail. His limbs didn’t seem to be under his control. He lunged forward, and I popped up under his arm to prop him up.
So heavy. So much taller than me. His arm wraps around my face. “I helped, sweetest?”
“Of course, Barrister. You’re late to court.”
“Court. Never late.”
He started wobbling and moving like he knew which way to go.
Clinging to him, I guided him. “Can’t take you back to the ball without breeches and slippers.”
“Who stole them? Jemina, tell the judge. I saw the Lord Mayor somewhere.”
Daniel was so obliviously in his cups, no one would believe he’d been set upon. They’d blame him and call Daniel a drunk. They’d compare him to his father. This was a nasty trick.
This couldn’t happen. That would cut Daniel too deeply.
I heard people coming.
“Daniel. Daniel, help me into this . . . this room.”
“Yes.”
He leaned almost too far, but I kept him upright until we made it inside.
We both fell back against the closed door with a thud.
“Ohhhh, J.”
I covered Daniel’s mouth.
He kissed my fingers as I waited for whoever was in the hall to leave. Maybe I could get him out of here through the large window.
“Is it time to go home? My fob is gone. They took it. Only thing I have of his, ’cept his name. Don’t like it.”
“Daniel’s a beautiful name.”
“Hmm.” He swayed.
