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“Perhaps we were merely arguing,” I interrupt him again.

“It did not seem so to me.”

His fingers tighten around the cup, but he does not drink.

“Do not misunderstand me, Evander. It does not matter to me. It confuses me, yes—”

“It confuses you?”

His face turns red. “I mean... it... i-it is not something I expected from you, or from him.”

“Richard, you are misunderstanding—”

“Evander. I heard what he said to you.”

I look away and take another sip of coffee.

Damn him and his dirty mouth.

“If it had not been me there, but someone else...”

“It would have been a scandal,” I conclude.

“They have already written about you once, they have already insinuated enough.”

“I remember.”

“Are you not concerned?”

I run my hand through my hair.

“I am only surprised... It is unlike you,” he adds.

I cross my arms, staring at him.

“I mean to say that it is unlike you to lose your self-mastery, or to overlook the risks,” he proceeds. “A place like that crawls with idle eyes and greedy tongues.”

He takes a scone, breaks it, and eats a morsel before continuing. “You saw what they did to Elijah. And that was not even such a grave offense.”

“A grave offense?”

He sighs. “Society finds a man holding another man’s hand more offensive than a murder.”

“I was not holding his hand.”

“Do not take me for a fool, Evander, it is insulting.”

A dry laugh escapes my lips.

“I am the insulting one? You came into my home to accuse me of grave offenses.”

“Is that not so? Is that not what is happening?” he animates, his face turning red. “Have you not lied to me?”

“Lied?” my voice comes out harsh.

“It was not a simple accident when you fell from your horse, was it?”

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes for a moment.