Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake by Janice Preston

Author:Janice Preston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-06-07T17:31:41+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The following morning a somewhat battered and bruised Hugo called upon Freddie Allen to acquaint him with the happenings of the previous evening. He had formulated a plan of sorts to try to keep young Beauchamp out of trouble and away from the gaming tables, and Freddie had been enthusiastic about Hugo’s suggestion for winning Alex over. Hugo was very aware that it would take much diplomacy on his part to get Alex to agree to his proposal—a young man’s pride, as Hugo well remembered, was a prickly subject. Freddie sent a request to Alex to join them in the library and, after a suitable length of time, the door opened to reveal the younger of the Duke’s sons. Hugo watched Alex through narrowed eyes as the young man slouched across the library and flung himself into a leather-upholstered wing chair next to the empty grate. Hugo flicked a glance at Freddie—who was already seated in the matching chair—and read the concern in the furrows of his brow.

Freddie pushed himself to his feet. ‘Can I get you a glass of Madeira, Alex?’

Freddie and Hugo already had drinks.

Alex shrugged. ‘If you like.’

Sullen. Resentful. Disengaged.

Hugo remembered those traits very well.

Without warning, Lucas’s words came back to him.

‘You always were a deep one...hiding your true feelings...wary of letting anyone close...afraid you’ll turn out like our old man...’

Hugo rolled his shoulders as though to rid himself of a sudden weight.

Lucas was wrong. He’d shed that protective shield of sullenness at a younger age than Alex—by the age of twenty he had already moved on to the pleasures of life. Just because he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve didn’t mean he was hiding his feelings. A man needed some privacy, for God’s sake. Besides, didn’t he have some excuse, growing up with that brute for a father?

Hugo thrust down the memory of his father as Freddie crossed to a side table and poured a glass of Madeira. He forced himself to stay seated and not to go and help the other man, instinctively knowing he would resent the implication he could not manage. Hugo hadn’t liked to ask the cause of Freddie’s lameness and Freddie hadn’t offered the information.

Freddie hobbled back, leaning on the crutch he used to help himself get around. He passed the glass to Alex, who accepted it with a muttered ‘Thanks’, and he sat down again.

Alex looked from Hugo to Freddie and back again. ‘I suppose this is where you rip up at me for what happened last night? Are you going to tell my father?’

Hugo sipped his drink. ‘That all depends.’

‘On what?’

‘What you intend to do about avoiding men like Tadlow in the future. Do you accept they were out to fleece you?’

Alex’s lips set in a mutinous line. ‘S’pose so.’

‘And?’

‘What d’you want me to say?’

‘That you’ll avoid them in future?’

Alex surged to his feet and paced around the room. ‘I’m not a bloody fool, Alastair. Of course I’ll avoid them. Although what business it is of yours I fail to understand.

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