Chapter Thirteen
Outside of Club Damnation
St. James Place
Mayfair, London
When Evan stepped out of his club, he immediately breathed in a deep lungful of the crisp, cool autumnal air.
It was his intention to call at Hannah’s townhouse tonight, for he’d missed out on taking dinner with her last night…
or doing anything else. By the time he’d woken in the drawing room by himself, the butler informed him that she had already retired, but that the cook had set aside food for him.
Gladly, he’d eaten his fill then didn’t have the heart to disturb her merely to satisfy a carnal itch, so he’d gone back to the club where he’d gone to bed alone.
Once again, he hadn’t risen until noon today, then the whole of the afternoon had been devoted to things he’d needed to accomplish such as having new clothes fitted for and ordered, stopping by a perfumery for both his cologne and a special bottle of scent he wished to give Hannah.
Then there was an outing to secure new bed linens and draperies for his quarters on the ship as well as add a few more comforting touches for the cabin, as well a few other errands he’d been putting off since his return to Town, such as inquiring about the purchase of a carriage and a townhouse.
God, why is everything so expensive in London?
Because of that, he hadn’t committed to anything permanent, for his mind was consumed by wrestling back the title from his half-brother. Nothing could move forward, truly, until he’d taken care of that.
Now he needed Hannah’s guidance. Hell, he just wanted to hear her voice, if he were honest with himself. Yet once on the street—he intended to hire a hack to convey him to her townhouse—he recognized a familiar form across the street where White’s Club was located.
“James…” The name was expelled on the heels of a growl, for he had grown to despise his brother over the years for various reasons.
Of course he would belong to White’s, which was considered a premier club of the beau monde.
Whether or not he, as a man or with his prevailing attitudes, was truly accepted or if it was for the title was another thing entirely.
“I’ll be damned if I allow him to continue fleecing the ton. ”
Pulling the brim of his top hat lower on his forehead, Evan darted across the street and hailed his brother before he could reach a waiting closed carriage at the curb.
“Sunderingham, a word, if you please!” For once, it wasn’t raining, and instead of being able to enjoy the night, he would spoil it by talking with his damned brother.
James’ body jerked as he came around the carriage to confront Evan. “What the devil do you want, Buckthorne? I assumed you had hidden yourself away somewhere to lick your wounds or con someone into funding your lifestyle.”
What a prick.
“What do you think I want? My birthright and my title. You are not Bettington’s heir and we both know it.
” When his brother made to walk away, Evan pounced.
He shoved his back against the side of the carriage and held him there with a hand on his chest, glaring into his face.
“You are going to make an announcement to society, somewhere that many members of the beau monde are in attendance, and you are going to renounce your bid for the dukedom. You will also publicly acknowledge that I am Father’s firstborn son and the true heir. ”
“Like hell I will.” James pushed back until he broke free of Evan’s hold. “Father hated the fact that you wanted to join the Navy more than anything else in life. It hurt him that you were never interested in learning how to be a duke—his eventual replacement.”
“He was hurt?” A scoff left his throat. “Don’t be ridiculous.
Father didn’t give two shits about either one of us.
He gained entertainment in pitting us against each other, forcing us to show him who loved him more.
” With the shake of his head, he threw a punch, that James dodged.
“From the moment I joined the Navy, I finally knew what it felt like to have a family around me, have people who cared about me, who wished to lift me up and see me succeed. Those same people that I would die for if asked.”
Being drawn to the sea was a bonus, feeling the peace from that vast expanse of ocean another, but the Navy was where he would always call home.
“God, he was livid when you bought that commission and used his funds to do it.” James returned the punch, barely clipping Evan on the left shoulder.
“Since he refused to do it himself, of course I took matters into my own hands.” He’d had to forge his father’s signature on the letter of request as well, but he didn’t care. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“And now you’re back in London, wishing to encroach on my life, on what I’ve built.” James’ eyes glittered dangerously.
“What you’ve built?” Evan laughed in his brother’s face.
“Nothing about this has been your doing… except trying to have me killed a few times over the past ten years.” When James inhaled sharply, he knew he was correct in that guess.
“You and your mother have plotted for years to seat you as the next duke; you’ve never made a secret of that, but I thwarted those plans by defying the odds, didn’t I? ”
“I’ll admit, life would be exponentially easier if you would have just died at sea, like we all thought.
” With a cry of rage, James sprang at him, and when he caught Evan’s shoulders, he whipped him around then shoved against the side of the carriage.
“Why couldn’t you just stay away? Why couldn’t you let the sea claim you? There is nothing for you here.”
His chest tightened, but he swung out a fist, this time connecting with his brother’s chin. “While that may be so, I have always been extraordinarily fortunate, and I intend to use that luck to show myself before parliament as Father’s true heir.”
“Like hell you will.” James fought back, and he had desperation on his side that transferred into energy. They exchanged a few punches before Evan put space between them.
A crowd of men had begun to form in the street, drawn out of the clubs in the area no doubt by the noise and the sound of fists.
Evan glanced at them then focused on his brother. “This is becoming unseemly and beneath us both.”
“Indeed.” James wiped at the blood trickling down his chin. “How do you propose to finish it?”
I must be mad to even suggest this.
“I challenge you to a duel, two nights from now on All Hallow’s Eve in Hyde park.
” It was the perfect date, for most everyone would be busy with parties and other festivities.
“Just after midnight with pistols drawn. To the death. Last man standing is Bettington’s heir.
And we’ll both agree to accept whatever the outcome is. ”
“Fine.” James tugged on the bottom of his evening jacket then rolled his shoulders. “Fair warning, though, I’m an excellent shot.”
“So am I.” Though it would mean he’d either need to purchase a pair of dueling pistols or borrow one. Such things might be illegal, but that didn’t mean those pistols weren’t still sold.
“Don’t be late, Buckthorne, and have your second ready. You’ll need it.” Without further discourse, his brother climbed into his carriage, and the driver put up the steps.
“Fuck off, James,” Evan said to himself before turning up the collar of his greatcoat and then pushing his way through the ring of onlookers.
What am I doing? Is becoming a duke worth this hassle?
There were no answers.
A half hour later
No 8 Portman Square
Marylebone, London
When Evan arrived at Hannah’s townhouse, the butler told him she was out, for it was an evening devoted to one of her charities.
“Thank you, Franklin. I would like to wait for her, if you don’t mind.”
“You are welcome to do whatever you feel led, Captain Buckthorne. Would you enjoy tea in the drawing room?” the butler asked as he peered at Evan with speculation in his gaze.
“I would welcome brandy or whiskey. Also, a place to refreshen up.” His jaw and shoulder were tender from where James had punched him.
The butler nodded. “You are welcome to use one of the rooms upstairs. I’m sure Miss Ulrich wouldn’t mind. I’ll have one of the maids bring water up for the pitcher and basin. You can refresh yourself there and rest until Miss Ulrich returns.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the kindness,” he said on his way toward the staircase.
“Shall I bring up the requested liquor, Captain?”
“No. I’ll take something from the drawing room with me.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
As he said, Evan popped into the drawing room.
He took a decanter of whiskey and a matching cut-crystal glass from the sideboard then made his way up to the third level and into one of the small bedrooms. Basic furnishings met his eyes—four poster bed, a low bureau, an armoire, as well as a bedside table all made of walnut wood.
Draperies and bedclothes were done in pleasing hues of light green and peach, which matched the striped wallpaper.
After pouring a measure of whiskey into the glass, Evan spent a fair amount of time scrubbing the streaks of dirt and blood from his hands, face, and neck.
He indulged in the drink as he completed his toilette and made use of the chamber pot tucked away behind the painted privacy screen.
Afterward, when Hannah still hadn’t made an appearance, he poured another measure of amber liquid into his glass and set out to chase away the boredom.
The townhouse was far too quiet, so when he spied Cleopatra, the cat, slinking out of a room at the end of the short corridor, he followed.
“Are you bored as well?” he asked of the feline.
When she greeted him with a soft meow, he set his glass on a shallow table along the wall then bent to give her ears a scratch.
“Where is your mistress?” Which, saying that aloud made him realize the word had very difference connotations between the two of them.