A Case for Christmas (The Lords of Bucknall Club Book 2) by J.A. Rock & Lisa Henry

Author:J.A. Rock & Lisa Henry [Rock, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2021-07-12T16:00:00+00:00

Gale’s head spun as he staggered away from whatever gaming hell he had just wreaked havoc upon. He could not recall its name—only that far too many of its inhabitants had shouted his when he’d entered. But soon he’d been so foxed, he hadn’t cared. He was by the river now. How pleasant. He’d been heading in the direction of Bucknall’s, but then he’d seen the water and couldn’t resist. The sky was dark, so he’d passed some hours at the faro table. His purse was considerably lighter than it had been when he’d entered. Perhaps that was a good thing. There was an art to gambling, depending on the game, but mostly it was chance. Gale was tired of solving puzzles. How strangely reassuring it had been, to know his fate at the card table was but the luck of the draw.

He’d only left because it had got so bloody crowded. People had jostled him, he’d been caught in clouds of reeking breath, words thrust into his ears like blades. Ah, even now—look at his hands! They were shaking. From drink, he hoped, rather than from the weakness in his mind. The weakness Chant had seen two nights past at the Harringdon ball. It was one thing to disdain all of humanity but quite another to let it render you a quaking mouse. Leave the quaking to Hartwell’s little dullard, Warry. Since when was Hartwell the marrying type? It made no sense. Hartwell! It might be a lark to see Hartwell now. Hartwell was good for a laugh, much as Gale disliked laughter as a general rule. But Hartwell was probably at home, in bed with little Warry. Gale made a face at the pavement, which, in turn, spun under his feet. Most unkind.

He touched the side of his neck, dug his nail under the small scab there, and was pleased to feel a bead of fresh blood form.

“Most unkind!” he declared to the night sky.

He jolted when a voice said, “Lord Christmas?”

He thought for a second it might be Chant’s voice, but what a foolish thought. Chant’s voice was much softer and warmer than this… bray.

Teddy stepped into the pool of light from the nearby street lamp.

Gale’s stomach seemed to detach from whatever held it in place within him.

Teddy from the salon. Teddy, who had turned away from Gale and gone to fuck the French artist. Gale’s last encounter with him had involved a fair amount of alcohol too.

“What are you doing out here?” Teddy asked.

“I am walking by the river,” Gale said. At least, that’s what he hoped he said. His tongue felt thick and rather useless.

“Are you all right?”

“Where is Hartwell?” Gale blurted. That was not what he’d meant to ask.

“I don’t… You mean Lord William Hartwell? Your friend?”

“He is not my friend. I have no friends.” Gale rubbed the back of his head. Where was his hat? Had he come here with a hat? “Chant is not my friend.” It seemed very important that Teddy know this.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.