Chapter 4
Crispin climbed into his coach, ready to head off for a night of revels of a different kind, though he wouldn’t go down to the districts where so many gentlemen spent their time with the ladies. No, he’d head to Devonshire House.
Whilst there, he could engage in good conversation and, more importantly, the political discussions surrounding the recent and shocking decline of the king.
After all, it was on almost everyone’s lips. Who would win? Pitt or Fox? Would there be a regency or not? It was the debate of the time, and everyone felt tense for it.
The marriage mart continued on apace, but the rest of society was not entirely certain how things would go from here. Would there be a crisis or not?
And things at Devonshire House and in the Whig party were not going as smoothly as he would have preferred. And he did have an inclination towards the Whigs, for he approved of most of their policies. But they were all incredibly difficult people who did not seem to know how to work together, and they were causing more difficulties for their party than less.
Still, at least they knew how to have a good time.
Just as he was about to pound on the roof of his carriage, much to his shock, the door flew open and the vehicle tilted slightly to the right. Three gentlemen pulled themselves in.
Two sat opposite and one put himself down beside Crispin.
He began to speak, but the first—dark-haired, blue-eyed and with a rather dangerous grin upon his face—lifted his hand. “Shh,” he said. “There is no need for you to say anything at present. You will answer our questions clearly, but before you begin, we wanted to make something very, very clear.”
One of the gentlemen across from Crispin leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “You danced with our sister this evening.”
“Twice,” the gentleman across from Crispin drawled. “We have concerns.”
The one sitting beside him declared, “I am Lord Hector Briarwood.” He gestured to the two gentlemen sitting opposite. “These are my brothers, Lord Zephyr and Lord Ajax.”
He cleared his throat. “What interesting names.”
“Our father adored ancient history. Our mother adores Shakespeare,” Lord Zephyr ground out.
“Our sisters got the better end of the stick,” Lord Ajax added, his bull-like shoulders squaring.
“We have concerns about the events of this evening,” Lord Hector said with deceiving politeness. “And we wished to make certain that you are aware of them.”
He swallowed. He had heard about the wildness of the Briarwood brothers. They were all excellent with pistol, blade, and fist. He, of course, was trained in all the martial ways himself, but there were three of them, and it was a rather small compartment.
He could defend himself, but he didn’t really like the idea of engaging in fisticuffs with the siblings of the lady he wished to marry.
“I do not know of what you speak, gentlemen,” he began. “I danced with Lady Hermia twice. It’s true. I conversed with your mother and all seemed well. Surely, you should speak with the ladies to have your concerns alleviated.”
“We did speak with Mama,” Lord Hector said, cocking his head to the side. “And she asked us to make certain that you understand…things.”
“I beg your pardon?” Crispin queried, surprised. He’d thought the chat with the mother had gone exceptionally well. “Your mother sent you here?”
“We have an interesting family, old boy,” Lord Ajax said. “You see, we talk about everything, we don’t keep secrets, not really, and we stick together.”
Lord Zephyr gave a sly grin. “You see, we think it best that we move as a unit. The world is a terribly treacherous place, and we behave in certain ways. We won’t have anyone getting in our way, you see.”
“I do see,” he replied. “How fortunate for you.”
“We think so,” agreed Lord Hector with a cheerful yet slightly dangerous grin. “Now, if you do anything amiss or cause Hermia any distress…” He gestured with his hands as if the words need not be said.
Lord Ajax brought his hands together and cracked his knuckles. “I assume you like the position of your neck as it is.”
“I am rather fond of it,” Crispin agreed. “Yes.”
“Good,” said Lord Zephyr. “If you like it, and you wish to keep it that way, don’t do anything you’d regret.”
“And that regret would be?” he prompted.
Lord Hector pursed his lips, giving exaggerated consideration to his reply. “Disappointing Hermia, hurting her, or infuriating our mother. You see, she does not like to be displeased, and she certainly doesn’t like gentlemen who bother her daughters, lead them astray, or lead them on in a belief that they might be wanted.”
He swallowed, rather impressed by the way the brothers were protecting their family. “I promise you that I am not leading anyone on or astray.”
“We know about you, Drexel. You’re not a bad sort, but your family…” Lord Ajax gave a shake of his head with distaste.
“Boring, unpleasant, full of venom,” Lord Zephyr continued. “We don’t particularly want to be attached to that, but you don’t seem terrible. Mama, perhaps because of your name and your name alone, has taken a shine to you and is willing to entertain the possibility that you might eventually become one of us.”
Lord Hector drew in a resigned breath. “After all, you did accept her invitation to the theater, which means that you are intrigued by, if not Hermia, us as a whole. Be careful. That intrigue could get you in a great deal of trouble.”
“Am I not already in trouble?” he asked, sitting before them, wondering if they would clap him on the back or kill him.
Lord Ajax laughed, a booming sound. “Oh, you’re clever at least. You pick up on things quickly. Now, what are your intentions?”
“Well, every man must marry,” Crispin returned.
“And you’re thinking of Hermia?” Lord Hector inquired quietly.
A muscle tightened in Crispin’s jaw. “Surely, that is between Hermia and myself.”
Lord Zephyr guffawed. “If you marry one of us, you marry all of us. And those are the facts.”
Crispin arched a brow. “It sounds like a rather crowded bedroom.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Lord Hector returned before he leaned forward. “You see, if you are considering joining us… It will be like marrying into a pack of wolves. We all fight together, you see, and you’ll have to learn your place. Now, if you are interested in that, we’ll happily entertain the idea. But frankly, from everything we know about your family, it’s not a good fit. So why don’t you just be a good lad and not come to the theater tomorrow night? I think it’d be a far happier outcome for everyone.”
How did he explain that he wasn’t exactly interested in happiness? He’d not really ever known it. He’d known pleasure, and he’d known the hollow pursuit of debauchery. He had also known security. And he’d known the pain of never being enough.
But happiness? He had learned when he was about four years old that such a thing did not exist in families.
And so he found this whole situation to be rather absurd. Were they truly happy, or was all of this an act? Surely, it had to be. And yet they all seemed so committed to their message.
“I promise,” he said firmly. “I will not act in any untoward way. How about that?” he said.
Lord Ajax shrugged. “Well, if that is your reply, that will have to do for now. And if you come to the theater and you wish to sit with us as we watch the play, we cannot stop you. After all, you are an earl. But you have been warned. Your life could become exceedingly difficult if you step out of line, old boy. That’s all.”
With that, Lord Zephyr lifted his broad hand and clapped him on the shoulder, then they opened the door and filed out, leaving him to sit rather stunned and tense.
The door slammed shut, the carriage rolled on, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to have brothers like that.
He did not have brothers. He only had a sister, and he had been kept largely protected from others. He was the spare who had become the heir. There was no one to take his place. And he had had to spend his whole life stepping into a role that had not been meant for him. He’d never been able to study enough, work enough, or embody the role of future duke that his parents had wished him to. No matter how hard he worked or how many tutors they engaged.
Certainly, he had not known the camaraderie of those three. He had not known what it would be like to be in a pack, as they had said, and he found himself rather fascinated by the prospect.
But would they ever welcome him in? He doubted it…
He’d always been alone, and he’d always been a usurper. Surely, in such a family as hers, that would continue. Or would it?