“Good gads, no!” Harred exclaimed. “How could you even suggest such a thing? I would never disrespect your sister in such a horrendous way.”
Some of the anger dissipated from Fredrick’s expression at his words, but his friend did not seem fully satisfied. “If that is the case, then why were you holding her hand in the entry hall?”
Drats. What could he say to that? He had been entirely too familiar with Octavia but he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He wanted to keep her by his side, always. But he didn’t dare confess that to Fredrick. What would he think?
Fredrick’s voice broke through his musings. “I would prefer the truth, if you don’t mind. I don’t really have time for your half-truths anymore. They are exhausting to listen to.”
Harred knew it was time to confess the truth and be done with it. “I would like to pursue your sister,” he admitted.
“And if I told you no?” Fredrick asked, eyeing him closely. “Would you still pursue her?”
He nodded. “I would, knowing it might stoke your ire. But I am utterly captivated by Octavia and I can’t bear the thought of not at least trying to fight for her affection.”
Fredrick grew silent, and his expression was unreadable. The only sound to time his misery was the turning of the wheels. Finally, he spoke up. “You do realize that Octavia is stubborn, vexing, and says whatever is on her mind.”
“I am aware.”
A smile slowly spread across Fredrick’s face. “Good, because I do think you two would be good together.”
Hesitantly, Harred ventured, “You have no objections?” He wasn’t sure if this was a trick. After all, he had expected a much different reaction from his friend.
Fredrick chuckled. “I have many, but in this case, I will bitemy tongue.”
“Thank you,” Harred said with relief in his voice. “Was I so obvious in my affections?”
“You could have tried a little harder, but I saw through your charade,” Fredrick replied. “I will say that Octavia believes she doesn’t need anyone, but I do believe she needsyou.”
“I do not presume she cares for me.”
“That is for you to discover on your own,” Fredrick said. “But if you hurt my sister, that will be the last mistake you will ever make.”
The way his friend spoke his words, Harred knew that he had spoken true. Fredrick was many things, but he was not a liar.
The coach came to a stop in front of White’s and a footman promptly opened the door. They both stepped out of the coach and entered the gentlemen’s club.
Harred’s eyes roamed over the main hall and he saw Mr. Caleb Bolingbroke was sitting at the table in the corner.
Fredrick gestured towards Caleb and said, “Follow me.”
As they approached Caleb, Harred saw that his normally well-groomed hair was disheveled, and his fine clothes were wrinkled. The luster had faded from Caleb’s eyes, and his countenance now expressed a weariness that Harred hadn’t ever seen in his friend before.
Caleb looked up as they approached and acknowledged them, “Good afternoon.” His words were cordial enough but there was no enthusiasm behind them.
Fredrick pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Why do you look like you were just hit by a coach?”
“I don’t look that bad,” Caleb attempted.
“You do,” Fredrick pressed.
Caleb took a sip of his drink before saying, “I had something that I had to see to in the rookeries and it went awry rather quickly.”
Harred spoke up, hoping his words properly expressed his concern. “You shouldn’t have gone to the rookeries. That is a lawless place.”
“I know, but I had no choice,” Caleb responded.
“Everyone has a choice,” Harred said.
Something flickered through Caleb’s eyes so quickly that there was no time for him to read it. Guilt? Pain?
