Nearly Ruining Mr Russell by Emma V. Leech

Author:Emma V. Leech
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2017-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Wherein all is forgiven and Aubrey gets a pep talk.”

Aubrey stretched his long legs out before the fire and sighed, looking around him with satisfaction.

“I say, nice place you’ve got here, my lord.”

“Thanks,” Debdon replied with a grin. “And my friends call me Chance.”

Aubrey snorted. “Are you quite sure about that? You wanted my blood just an hour ago.”

Chauncey - Chance - Kendell, Viscount Debdon, shrugged and gave him another, rather rueful smile. “No, I didn’t. Went off the idea about ten minutes after leaving you. Got a frightful temper,” he admitted. “Though not as bad as the Countess Falmouth’s,” he added with a shudder of alarm.

Aubrey wagged a finger at him. “Watch your mouth or I’ll have to call you out!” he said with a chuckle. “She’s one of my dearest friends and a wonderful woman.” He pursed his lips, and then was honour-bound to add: “She does have a frightful temper, though. Terrifying creature when her blood’s up.”

Chance nodded, his face amused. “Well, anyway, all’s well.” He fell silent for a moment and stared into the fire. “I should apologise,” he said after a long moment. “I had no right to call you out. I’d been drinking and I’d taken a lot of stick over you and Dolly.”

Aubrey grimaced and shook his head. “Least said, soonest mended,” he muttered, feeling a trifle awkward. “And just for the record. There never has been, and never will be, anything between me and Mrs Dashton.”

Aubrey watched as the man laughed and waved his hand. “It’s of no matter, I assure you. Dasher and I had a good run, a lot of fun. She’s a wonderful woman, but ...” He gave Aubrey a twisted smile. “Devilish heavy on the pocket.”

Aubrey laughed and raised his glass. “To the expensive Mrs Dashton.”

“Dolly,” Chance agreed, raising his own glass and downing it in one large swallow. He got up and fetched the bottle of cognac they were working through, filling Aubrey’s glass with a generous measure. Settling himself down again, he gave Aubrey a curious look.

“Lady Greyston seemed to take exception to Mrs Dashton’s confession,” he said, his tone mild, and Aubrey coughed. He glanced up and noted the shrewd look in the viscount’s eyes with alarm.

“Oh, don’t look so panicked. I’m no gabble-monger, I assure you.”

Aubrey let out a sigh and then shrugged. “She’s quite above my touch,” he said with a despondent air. He turned as Chance sat forward in his chair.

“Wait, Lady Violette Greyston?” he demanded, eyes wide. “My God, I thought she looked familiar. She’s the Colonel’s sister!”

“You know Lord Winterbourne?” Aubrey replied, wondering if Chance could really be trusted.

“Knew,” the viscount corrected, shaking his head, a genuinely sorrowful look in his eyes. “He was my Colonel, 15th Light Dragoons. Died at Waterloo.”

Aubrey bit his lip before asking, “What happened?”

Chance shook his head, his eyes taking on a far-away look, as though he wasn’t really there at all. “I hardly know,” he said, his voice bleak. “It was ... God, it was .

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