Apparently, by this particular chaperone’s standards at any rate, what was acceptable behavior in a public hackney was not permissible in the general public.
Alex relinquished his hold on the girl with some reluctance. He assisted Mrs. Summers down and watched her follow Mr. Wang into the house before turning a skeptical eye on the servants as they came forward. There were several able-bodied men in the group; one of them was actually quite massive. But then, large men could be clumsy, or worse, stupid.
He looked back at the unconscious Miss Everton. Maybe he should just…
“It’s no good, Alex.”
Whit walked the few remaining steps from the stables to lean against the carriage and offered Alex the lopsided grin that had made him the darling of the ton and the bane of Alex’s existence.
“You can’t very well endear yourself to Loudor by entangling his cousin in a scandal her first day in London, now can you?”
Alex nearly groaned. Whit was right, of course; he was behaving like an idiot. What the devil was wrong with him? He shot his friend a nasty scowl for the sake of principle— no good ever came from telling Whit he was right about something—and gave an order to one of the footmen to care for Miss Everton.
Three
A thin older man with a sour expression, which Alex guessed had more to do with the man’s nature than the day’s unfortunate events, ushered Alex and Whit into the front parlor and furnished them with drinks.
“His Lordship left several hours ago to meet Miss Everton and her party at the docks. Four men have been dispatched to ascertain his whereabouts. I shall inform him of your presence upon his arrival.” With that, the butler excused himself and closed the parlor doors behind him.
“Friendly, isn’t he?” Alex remarked, taking a drink of his brandy and looking over their surroundings. With dark ugly colors, the scent of old cigars, and an astounding amount of leather, the room positively screamed of bachelorhood. More, it screamed of a bachelor with exceedingly poor taste.
Whit was likewise eyeing the decor. “Good Lord, if this is the front parlor, what do you suppose the study looks like?”
“With any luck, we’ll find out.”
“At the moment, I’m a little tempted to botch the mission on purpose. This room is dreadful.”
“It smells like a third-rate club,” Alex added.
“By God, you’re right. I was wondering why the stench seemed familiar. Reminds me of our salad days.” Whit thought about this for a moment. “Believe I’ll open a window.” He set down his drink and held back the thick gray drapes while eyeing the window frame dubiously. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of hook or tieback for these things?”
“One would think,” Alex remarked casually.
With his free hand Whit unlocked the window and attempted to push it up and open. It wouldn’t budge. From his seat, Alex watched with increasing amusement. Whittaker Cole, the Earl of Thurston, was struggling mightily with a set of wool curtains and a parlor window.
“Why am I the only one who witnesses these things?” Alex mused aloud before standing up to lend his poor beleaguered friend a hand. “Would you like some help?”
“Bugger off,” Whit snapped, taking a step back from the window.
Alex didn’t feel the need to respond, mostly because he wasn’t sure whether it was directed at him or the window. Stepping over, he took the drapes with both hands and held them off to the side. He motioned Whit forward. “Perhaps, if you use two hands….”
Whit just grunted and took his place in front of the window. After several minutes of groaning and swearing, it finally slid up a meager two inches.
Whit eyed the gap resentfully. “Splendid.”
Alex gave him a jovial clap on the back. “Well done. Care to have a go at the other?”
“I don’t think my pride could take it,” Whit grumbled, still glaring at the window. “Do you know I’m actually winded? How humiliating.”
They stared at the window for a while in silence. Finally, without turning his head, Whit quietly said, “If you are a true and loyal friend, Alex, you will keep this little episode to yourself.”
Alex nodded somberly. “If I were a true and loyal friend, I would indeed.”
“A good man, a decent man—”
“Would keep his mouth closed. I’m almost sure of it.”
Their conversation was cut short by a commotion in the front hall accompanied by a loud, angry male voice.
“Loudor,” Alex supplied.