Chapter Three
Club Damnation
Mayfair, London
Evan frowned at himself in the cheval glass occupying a corner of his room.
Though he’d donned the requisite evening attire demanded of a gentleman moving within society, it was a couple of years out of date, but then, he didn’t suppose it mattered.
It wasn’t as if he hosted many parties aboard ship, and men’s fashions hadn’t changed so drastically in two years.
His things had been brought over from the ship, but there was only so much he could do for his appearance by himself.
“I need a damned valet,” he said to his reflection.
Of course, there was no answer.
His hair was badly in need of cutting, but there was no time for that.
The best he could manage to do was shave his facial hair, but even then, by the time he set out for the society event of the night, there’d be a faint dark shadow on his cheeks and chin.
Did he care about how he was presented? Not particularly, for he’d discovered earlier today that his damned half-brother was hosting a rout tonight to celebrate the fact he was the next Duke of Bettington.
“Like hell he is,” he said to his reflection as he fussed with the knot of his cravat.
Once he was finally ready, he left the room and went downstairs to the main gathering room of the club, where he immediately sought out a glass of brandy followed by a shot of whiskey.
Combined with the measure of brandy he’d already had before coming down, it would render him drunk enough to be dangerous, but not nearly inebriated enough to prove a nuisance.
And he needed the false courage, besides.
Before he could ask one of the footmen to bring ‘round his outer garments, one of the club members drifted over to him—the Duke of Thornton. The tall, blond man with broad shoulders and chest grinned with surprise and pleasure the moment their gazes connected.
“It is good to see you again, Buckthorne.”
“You as well, Thornton.” Over the course of the last couple of nights that he’d been staying in a room at the club, he’d had the opportunity to reconnect with his friends.
Gossip held that Thornton had been separated from his wife for two years and had only reclaimed and recommitted to her earlier this year around Valentine’s Day.
“I trust you are doing well these days?”
“I can’t complain, and it’s been much better than past years, I’ll tell you that.” Though shadows appeared deep in his eyes, there was also hope there and a contentment Evan envied. “In three months, I shall be a father, if you can believe that.”
“Ah.” So that was where those emotions stemmed from. “How lovely for you. Is your wife well?” He didn’t know much about the Duchess of Thornton and couldn’t immediately recall if he’d ever met her.
“I think pregnancy agrees with Emma; she’s glowing and just now, she’s full of energy, making sure things in the house are just so.”
Evan nodded. “No doubt preparing a nursery and herself for the babe’s arrival.
” Never had he considered himself a family man nor a marriage-minded lord, but suddenly, a picture of himself holding a babe materialized in his mind’s eye.
Would that ever happen? Probably not, and he was merely being fanciful.
“Indeed, but we will leave for my country estate soon.” A faint grin curved the other man’s lips.
“I find it difficult to wrap my head around the fact, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
” A soft chuckle left his throat. “My wife sent me here to the club to give her a bit of peace. I’m afraid I’ve been hovering of later, being watchful of her. ”
The protectiveness of the man amused him.
Evan clamped a hand on the duke’s shoulder.
“I suspect you’ll prove an admirable father.
Hell, I couldn’t believe that Ravenhurst is a father or that Averly is as well.
” He shook his head. “The difference between all of you and your sires? You won’t make the same mistakes, and you are actively making certain you won’t be them. ”
That was mind boggling to him.
“Yes, well, perhaps our fathers didn’t know any better or simply weren’t equipped to do better, but I’m sure as hell going to do things differently than mine.” He nodded then frowned. “Are you going out tonight?”
“Yes, to a route. To kill my half-brother.” As he spoke, he traced the outline of the pistol that rested in the interior pocket of his jacket.
Shock reflected on Thornton’s face. “Why?”
“I’m the Duke of Bettington’s true heir, a year older than my brother, James—the Earl of Sunderingham—and he’s done his level best to see me dead so he can take the title.” Evan shook his head. “So I’m going to beat him to it. It’s against the law to impersonate a duke in any event.”
“Sunderingham is your brother?”
“Yes, and he’s the darkest of all blackguards.”
Thornton grunted. “You can’t just go around London murdering people because they’re pretending to be a duke’s heir. Call for a constable or even Bow Street. I know a man in that organization...”
“I can if they’re lying, and I have every right since he’s tried to see me murdered a few times while I’ve been away from England.” Of course, the storm that nearly saw him and his crew drowned couldn’t be laid at James’ feet, but that was beside the point.
“Do you know that for a fact? Have evidence?”
“Of course not. He’s too smart for that.”
Thornton crossed his arms at his chest. “Then your assertions would be considered hearsay. Regardless, you can’t just murder him. It’s a crime and they’ll see you in Newgate then eventually hang you.”
“Ha.” Evan snorted. “No one hangs a duke. It’s messy and embarrassing for the Crown.” Yet there were always exceptions to every rule, and he wouldn’t put it past Prinny to do exactly that, especially since Evan had given notice that he would no longer act as a privateer for him.
“Perhaps, but think about it first. Challenge him or call him out before you put a ball through his heart. Hell, demand a duel regardless if it’s illegal, but do nothing of the sort in public.
” Thornton narrowed his gaze on Evan. “You don’t even have the title yet, and if you do win it back, you don’t want to start that life already mired in scandal.
Give yourself a fighting chance so you can do the most good. ”
That was true, and oddly, it made much sense. “Fine. I’ll take your counsel under advisement.” He made to move around the duke. “I’m late as it is.”
“Absolutely not.” The other man dropped a hand on Evan’s shoulder, temporarily staying him. “I’m going with you.”
“Why? I’ve always faced everything in my life alone.”
“Firstly, the men of this club are a family. Every man here is considered my brother, and I know they feel the same about me.”
It was odd, this suddenly having a family that cared would take some time for acclimation. “I must do this alone.”
“Poppycock. Besides, I have a carriage and it’s raining. Gather a shred of class and meet your half-brother without looking like a drowned rat.”
There was that. He shot his friend a grin. “You win, but I need a drink.”
“You don’t. Go say your peace, issue a warning, and then you can go pickle your liver.” Thornton grabbed his arm and steered him away from the common room. “Let’s go. The sooner you have this over with, the sooner you can rebuild your life.”
He frowned. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning you’ll need to petition the Lords for an audience, then prove your identity as well as your birthright. It’ll be a mess, and if the paperwork naming you as Bettington’s true heir has suddenly gone missing as well as your birth records, it’ll be an even greater fight.”
Well, shit. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“That is why you need friends around you, and if those friends are dukes with power, reach, and influence, even better.”
No wonder why he remembered that he hated the government as well as the beau monde.
“Ha.” Would that be him at some point when he gained his title back?
It was too early to say. Part of him wanted to give up the fight and let James win, for he’d never wanted to succeed his father as a duke; he wished to return to the sea, yet…
“I can’t let my brother win.” Not after everything.
“Then let’s form a plan. We should gather the club members and have a council of war.”
“I don’t know if it’s that important. In fact, it should be a straightforward process, right? Clearly, I’m not dead, and I worked the past few years for the Crown as a privateer. Prinny knows who I am. In fact, his government deposited my coin into my account at the Bank of England.”
Thornton sent him a withering glance. “Bully for you, but you’ll still need vetted and an audience, so don’t cock it up with the men of the beau monde you’ll want on your side.
And you already know how fickle Prinny can be.
One moment you’re in his favor, the next you aren’t.
” They both stopped in the entry hall to don outerwear.
“Be careful and be mindful. If the earl has twisted things and his mother has forged documents, you’ll be handed a fight whether you will it or not. ”
Also true. Damn it all to hell.
Bettington House
Old Park Lane
Piccadilly
Mayfair
London
“God, it’s been an age since I last stepped foot in this house,” he whispered to Thornton as they alighted onto the pavement in front of his father’s home.
A few grand townhouses down from Apsley House at Hyde Park Corner, which became the Duke of Wellington's London residence in 1807, it sat on the darkened street, mocking him, with windows ablaze and golden illumination shining from them in a lofty display of wealth and luxury.
“You will do well here, I’ll wager,” Thornton said as he followed Evan through the wrought iron gate, up the short walkway, and then to the red-painted door. “It’s quite the statement home.”
“That was my father’s doing. Always had to make people jealous of what he had.” Evan snorted. It was another reason he had despised his father. “Yet this is my house.”
“Not yet. You have a fair fight ahead.”