sixteen
THE WEEK BEFORE the ball had gone by in a blur for Ethan with his visits to the centre, bills to pay, and listening to every gossip. Yet Lord Roxbury remained silent after having declined the invitation to the ball due to a serious indisposition. No one had seen him. No one talked about Cora. No one knew exactly what Roxbury’s injury was. Better that way.
On top of that, Ethan never stopped thinking about his kiss with Cora. He paid the bills, and his lips would tingle, reminding him of her. He sparred with Fraser, and his heart would race just as it’d done when he’d kissed her. He sat in the carriage, going somewhere, and Cora’s shy smile and flushed cheeks would invade his thoughts for no particular reason. The red roses in Hyde Park would make him think of her. His obsession with her was both amusing and worrying.
After he made sure everything was ready for the evening, he welcomed Harry, Finn’s son, who entered from the rear door as a precaution. The boy was shorter than David but had an air of mischief and carelessness David lacked. Unfortunately.
“Harry. You look quite dashing.” Ethan eyed the boy’s silk waistcoat and jacket.
“Thank you, sir. My mama insisted even though I told her I wouldn’t be seen.” Harry searched the room. “I like the mystery of this evening and being a spy.”
“This isn’t a spy job.”
“Where’s my new friend?”
“In my parlour. Where’s your father?”
“He went to the police station and didn’t come back. Work as usual,” Harry said.
Ethan had hoped David would find a friend his age. The boy needed it. “Follow me. I believe your father explained to you how important it is to keep David out of sight and not talk about him with anyone.” He walked down the hallway.
Harry nodded. “I can keep a secret or many. I don’t blabber.”
“I trust you with that, but no funny business.” Ethan paused at the set of double doors to his parlour.
“Funny business? Me?” Harry pointed a finger at himself. “I don’t do funny business.”
“No firecrackers in the geranium pots.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Harry had an air of hurt innocence.
“No frogs on the banquet table.”
“That was an unfortunate incident I was barely involved in.”
Ethan jabbed a finger at him. “And absolutely no Beecham’s pills in the lemonade.”
Harry was flustered. “Please. There’s no proof it was me. I’m shocked you might think I’m capable of upsetting the bowels of innocent people on purpose.”
“I’m sure your shock won’t last.” Ethan held the door open for him.
Harry chuckled. “Although all those people hurrying to the water closet?—”
“Harry,” he warned.
The boy held up a hand. “I’ll be quiet.”
Dressed in a plain brown suit, David stood up, a wary expression on his face. For some reason, the low quality of the boy’s clothes irked Ethan, especially since Harry wore a fine suit. David should wear warm, decent clothes, not that worn jacket and trousers twice his size. He should have thought about procuring new clothes for the boy.
“Sir,” David said, regarding Harry as if he were a strange creature.
“This is Harry Purnell. Harry meet Mr. David Wiley, Viscount Roxbury.”
“I’m happy to meet you… your lordship.” Harry showed a lopsided smile that promised more than Beecham’s pills. “I’m sure we’ll be very good friends.” He stretched out his arm.
David hesitated before shaking Harry’s hand. “Hullo. Please call me David. I’m just David.”
“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Ethan said. “Remember the rules. No one should see David. Harry, I trust you.”
