Chapter 5
“You are being unnecessarily cruel to the woman.”
Edward swirled the brandy in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the firelight.
Hugo’s study was warm and comfortable, lined with books that Edward suspected his friend had never read. The evening had grown late, and the brandy had grown low, and somewhere between the second and third glass, Edward had explained the arrangement with Lady Sophia.
Not all of it. Not the part about Lady Fairhart.
“I am being practical.” Edward took a drink. “She appeared at my door, demanded access to my nephew, and expected me to simply hand the boy over. I offered her a compromise.”
“A compromise that requires her to find you a wife.” Hugo stretched his legs toward the fire, his own glass dangling from his fingers. “In exchange for supervised visits with a child she has known since birth. That is not a compromise, Edward. That is extortion.”
“I do not trust her.”
“Why not? By your own account, she was Jane’s closest friend. She has known the boy for years. What reason could you have for keeping her at arm’s length?”
Edward’s jaw tightened. He stared into the fire, watching the flames dance and twist. “She lurks around London at night. In places no respectable woman should be.”
Hugo’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”
“The night before I received news of Leonard’s death, I found her near the tavern where I box. Surrounded by cutthroats in a back alley at four in the morning.”
Hugo sat up straighter, his interest visibly piqued. “How intriguing. And what was she doing there?”
“She refused to say.”
“Perhaps she was returning from a tryst.” Hugo’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “A secret lover. A forbidden assignation. It would explain the secrecy and the unsavory location.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than Edward intended. His grip tightened on his glass. “It was not a tryst. I know that for certain.”
Hugo tilted his head. “And how, exactly, do you know that?”
Edward hesitated. He could not reveal the truth without exposing Lady Sophia’s secret, and despite everything, he had no desire to destroy her reputation. The realization irritated him.
“She was alone when I found her.” He kept his voice flat. “No companion. Whatever her business, it was not romantic.”
Hugo studied him for a long moment. Edward could see the questions forming behind those shrewd eyes, the pieces his friend was trying to fit together. But Hugo, for all his frivolity, knew when not to push.
“Very well.” Hugo settled back in his chair. “I won’t press. But I feel compelled to point out a certain hypocrisy in your position.”
“What hypocrisy?”
“You judge Lady Sophia for frequenting unsavory parts of London at questionable hours. And yet you yourself spend your evenings in a basement tavern, beating strangers bloody for sport.” Hugo spread his hands.
“If the ton discovered your nocturnal activities, the scandal would be considerable. But here you sit, condemning a woman for similar behavior.”
“That is different.” Edward set down his glass with more force than necessary. “My boxing harms only myself. And I am thinking of Oliver. I cannot allow him to be influenced by a woman of questionable judgment.”
“A woman who has known him since infancy.” Hugo’s voice softened. “Edward, I am inclined to agree with Lady Sophia. The boy needs someone familiar. Someone who knew his parents. Someone who can offer comfort that you, with the best will in the world, cannot provide.”
The words struck deeper than Edward wanted to admit. He thought of Oliver at dinner, screaming for his mother. The way the boy flinched when Edward raised his voice. Of the silence that stretched between them, thick and impenetrable.
“And bringing a wife into the household will help?” Hugo continued. “Another stranger? Another new face for the boy to adjust to?”
“He needs a mother figure.” Edward’s voice came out rough. “Someone other than his nursemaid. Someone who can provide the warmth and guidance that I’m not equipped to give.”
Hugo was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned forward, his expression unusually serious.
“Why not marry Lady Sophia?”
Edward’s head snapped up. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not? She already knows Oliver. The boy adores her. She has breeding, education, and a respectable family. She meets every requirement on your ridiculous list.”
“She is not suitable.”
“In what way?”
Edward stood and moved to the window, putting distance between himself and his friend’s probing questions. The street below was quiet, the lamplighters having completed their rounds hours ago.
“Our characters are completely opposite.” He spoke to the glass and to his own faint reflection. “She is stubborn. Argumentative. She challenges everything I say and does the opposite of what I ask. A marriage between us would be nothing but conflict.”
“Some would call that passion.”
“I call it incompatibility.” Edward turned back to face Hugo. “I cannot stand the woman.”
Hugo arched an eyebrow. His lips twitched with barely suppressed amusement. “Cannot stand her. I see. Then why, pray tell, did you look ready to murder me when I complimented her at the garden party?”
Heat crawled up Edward’s neck. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“You went rigid as a poker the moment I kissed her hand. I thought you might challenge me to a duel over the color of her eyes.”
“I was not jealous.” The words came out as a growl.
Hugo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You were not jealous. My mistake entirely.” The smirk remained firmly in place.
Edward returned to his chair and seized his brandy, draining what remained in one swallow. The burn in his throat was preferable to this conversation.
“I need to find a wife.” He set down the empty glass. “Oliver has been avoiding me for days. He will barely look at me, let alone speak. We are meant to live under the same roof until he reaches his majority, and at present, we can scarcely endure a meal together.”
“Perhaps that is for the best?” Hugo ventured.
“No.” Edward shook his head. “He is my brother’s son. My responsibility. I will not fail him as I failed Leonard. A wife could help. A kind woman who could guide him, nurture him, ensure he grows into an upstanding young man.”
“And perhaps improve your relationship with the boy,” Hugo added.
“Ideally.”
Hugo swirled his brandy, watching Edward with an expression that bordered on pity. “Do you want your wife to be interesting? Attractive? Someone whose company you might actually enjoy?”
“She should be sufficiently pleasing to the eye.” Edward kept his voice clinical. “We will need to produce an heir eventually.”
Hugo’s face twisted with distaste. “That is remarkably cold, even for you. Do you not want a woman whose company you might enjoy? A woman you would enjoy bedding?”
The question hung in the air.
Unbidden, an image rose in Edward’s mind.
Green eyes flashing with defiance. A stubborn chin tilted in challenge.
The curve of her lips when she argued with him, the flush that spread across her cheeks when she was angry.
The way her body had felt, icy fire and untested heat, pressed close to his in that dark alley, her scent surrounding him like a snare.
He felt heat pool low in his belly. Felt his body respond to the memory of her nearness, her warmth, the fire that burned in her whenever they clashed. He imagined that fire turned to passion. Imagined her beneath him, her back arching, and her lips parting on a gasp.
He slammed the door on the fantasy before it could take hold.
“The marital bed is for producing heirs.” His voice came out rough. He cleared his throat. “Beyond that, my wife and I may take lovers to satisfy our physical needs. Discreetly, of course.”
Hugo stared at him. “You have thought this through with alarming thoroughness.”
“It is my duty.”
“It’s a recipe for misery.” Hugo drained his glass and rose from his chair. “But I can see there is no reasoning with you tonight. And I have other engagements to attend to.”
“The opera singer?”
“Miss Celestine Laurent.” Hugo’s smile returned, bright and wicked. “I intend to satisfy my physical needs most thoroughly this evening. You should try it sometime. It does wonders for one’s temperament.”
Edward stood. “Goodnight, Hugo.”
“Goodnight, my friend.” Hugo clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck with your arrangement. And with the boy. I hope you find what you are looking for.”
Edward nodded and made his way to the door. As he stepped into the cool night air, Hugo’s final words echoed in his mind.
The trouble was, he no longer knew what he was looking for.
And he suspected, with growing unease, that the answer had green eyes and a sharp tongue and absolutely no intention of making his life easier.