Part 3 (2/2)
They had moved into their new bachelor quarters in Cavendish Square a few months earlier. The town house was far larger and much better appointed than their previous lodgings. It also gave them enough privacy that neither felt inconvenienced by the other's routine-although being twins, and close in a way only brothers could be, they never really minded each other's company.
”Look at what?” Leo asked absently as he ate the last few bites of an excellent beef pie.
”At the trio of Pocket Venuses who just came out of the house next door at”-Lawrence cast a glance toward the clock on the mantelpiece-”two o'clock in the afternoon.”
Leo wiped his mouth on a napkin, then leaned over to look out the window at the females in question.
The trio of women-two blondes and a redhead-were giggling and talking as they climbed into a waiting coach in a colorful flurry of skirts. ”They're pretty, to be sure, but why the interest? Beyond the obvious, of course,” Leo said.
”Because I happen to have seen them arrive last night and they have only now emerged.”
”Spent the night, did they? All three?” He waggled his eyebrows and laughed. ”You're just cranky because Northcote didn't invite you to the party.”
”What party? Far as I could tell, they were the only guests.”
Leo whistled. ”You've got to hand it to him. He certainly knows how to enjoy himself.”
”You and I know how to enjoy ourselves. Northcote is . . . well . . . the man is a complete reprobate.”
Leo laughed again. ”Complete, hmm? What does that make us? Partial reprobates?”
”Very funny,” Lawrence said.
Leo smirked. ”I don't have to worry, do I? You aren't in danger of turning Methodist on me or anything?”
Lawrence gave a derisive snort. ”Hardly.”
”Then what's with spying on Northcote? If you aren't careful, old Lady Higgleston will be complaining that you're trying to steal her thunder as the biggest pair of prying eyes in the neighborhood.”
”n.o.body could have a bigger pair of prying eyes than Lady Higgleston. Her front curtains twitch more than an aged beggar with the palsy. You know she has to have seen those playthings of Northcote's come trotting down his front steps just now. She'll probably be up all night writing the details to every Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry in a two-hundred-mile radius.”
”I doubt the old girl knows any Toms, d.i.c.ks or Harrys, considering her general opinion of men.” Leo grinned and leaned back in his chair. ”It's really rather decent of Northcote to pull the limelight off us. Maybe we should send him a present. Box of French letters, do you think?”
He and Lawrence exchanged looks, then started laughing.
”You never did answer my question about spying on him,” Leo said once he'd regained control of his voice.
”No, because I wasn't spying. Well, not the way you're implying. I was in here working on a case last night when his light-o'-loves arrived. It was rather difficult not to notice them.”
”Oh, I'm sure. You just casually happened to note the time and everything, did you?”
Lawrence shot him a narrow-eyed glare, which Leo completely ignored.
”All I can say is the next time you run into Northcote, why don't you ask the man to be neighborly and share?” Leo said. ”Or else invite your own coterie of ladyloves over.”
Lawrence leaned back in his chair. ”Two for me? One for you?”
”I'm not greedy-you can enjoy all three. I'm pursuing my own quarry at the moment and she's the only one I want right now.”
Lawrence's gold and green eyes lit with understanding. ”La Lennox, you mean? So you still haven't given up on that hopeless quest?”
”Not a bit. Why would I when I've only just begun? In fact, I'm sending her a little something special.”
”Apology presents already? I take it this is for something more than the other night at Elmore's? What have you done now to vex her?”
”Vex” was a nice way to put matters, especially considering the expression on Lady Thalia's face when she'd walked out of the auction. She'd looked shocked and furious and curiously wounded.
He shouldn't have done it, he realized. He ought to have stepped back and let her win the bid. But he'd planned on buying the Meissen piece anyway and his natural compet.i.tiveness had a.s.serted itself so that he just hadn't been able to resist. Besides, as he'd realized at the time, it gave him an excellent reason to contact her again, which he would not otherwise have had.
”I've done nothing that cannot be repaired,” Leo said. ”Anyway, her vexation only livens up the game.”
His twin laughed. ”I doubt she agrees.”
”We'll see.” Leo laid his napkin aside and got up from the table. ”Now as much as I hate to end our conversation, I'm promised to meet with my estate manager. Wants to talk about crop rotation and how best to drain the southern fields for planting next spring. He should be here any minute.”
”Ah, Brightvale. When you won it at the card table, I bet you never imagined all the things you'd have to learn about property management, tenant relations and farming. Gives one new respect for our Ned.”
”Believe me, he has my full respect and admiration. I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't born the duke. That's more responsibility than I'd ever want on my shoulders. Our brother wears the mantle well.”
”Oh, I think you could take it on if you were put to the test.”
”Me? The hedonistic wastrel? The unrepentant rake? I trust you won't be bandying that opinion about to any of our acquaintance or you'll have my reputation in tatters.”
”What reputation?”
Leo grinned. ”My point exactly.”
”Will there be anything else, milady?” her maid asked after she set the tea tray on a small table in Thalia's study.
”No, thank you, Parker, this looks excellent.”
While her maid let herself out of the room, Thalia went to the tray and poured a cup of hot, fresh Ceylon tea, steam curling upward from the beverage in misty tendrils. She added a splash of milk, then selected one of the b.u.t.ter cookies that Mrs. Grove had added to the tray. She bit off the end, the sweet golden crumbs melting deliciously against her tongue.
Rather than return to her desk, where the household account ledgers were stacked alongside a pile of bills and receipts in need of her attention, she carried her tea over to the window and gazed out at the garden beyond.
The tree branches were a riot of orange, yellow and red, fallen autumn leaves strewn in sere layers over the gravel walkway and small patches of gra.s.s. The neatly trimmed evergreen hedges were going dormant in preparation for the coming winter, the black wrought iron garden bench already too cold for sitting.
She would need to have the gardener come again to clear away the leaves. It would be a far easier matter to spare the money for his services now that she hadn't bought the Meissen trinket box.
Her fingers tightened on the cup handle, her mouth firming into a hard line. Regardless of how many times she told herself that the outcome of the auction was all for the best, that anyone might have outbid her and that she needed to put it all in the past, anger still flared inside her each and every time she thought of Lord Leopold Byron.
Clearly he'd known she wanted the Meissen piece and yet he'd decided to go toe-to-toe with her, upping the bid again and again with an arrogant surety that he would win.
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