Page 49 of The Rogue’s Offer

Certain the earl was capable of dealing with Mathias’s drunken stagger, Percy quickly walked ahead of them to the exit to ensure Charles’s carriage was waiting for them. In less than five minutes they were on their way to Thornbury House. When they reached the residence, Percy summoned a footman to assist Charles in helping his brother up the stairs to his room. As he watched his friend maneuver the stairs, Charles glanced over his shoulder.

“There’s some brandy in the study. Pour yourself a drink. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Percy followed his friend’s instructions and true to his word, Charles strode into the study a short time later. He made his way toward the liquor cart to pour himself a drink. Never one to hedge his questions, Charles turned to meet Percy’s gaze.

“You saw something.” It was an emphatic statement.

Percy winced slightly at the unspoken demand for what he’d seen. Outside of his family, only his close friends knew the extent of his true ability when it came to the an dara sealladh. Charles was one of them. As roommates at Eton, his friend had been privy to a number of episodes Percy had experienced at school.

The first one had been particularly debilitating as the vision he’d had at the time of his father’s death. If not for Charles, he might have injured himself falling down a flight of stairs. As a result, he’d been forced to take Charles into his confidence, and his friend had guarded him from controversy throughout their school years, and even beyond.

“Not much, just a glimpse of Mathias with Ophelia.” Percy deliberately omitted the full details. But Charles intuitively understood more than Percy realized as his friend sighed.

“This is as bad as when Miriam betrayed him.” Charles frowned. “Actually, worse. Mathias rarely drinks. The only other time I’ve seen him this drunk was when he found Miriam in my bed several years ago.”

“He said Ophelia won’t see him. Did he tell you why?”

“Something about Sabine and a bill. The only thing I could make heads or tails of was a bargain he made with the lady in question. Apparently he had a secret arrangement with Madame Sabine to pay the majority of the Lady Havenstock’s dress bill.

“Christ Jesus.” Percy stared at his friend in shocked disbelief. “No wonder she won’t see him. Although she’s closest to Louisa, the family is quite fond of her, and we’ve known her since childhood. Ophelia isn’t the type of woman who would accept anything from a man unless he was her husband.”

“The question now is how does he make amends?” Charles looked down into his glass with an expression of intense concentration on his dark, brooding features.

“I highly advise against interfering in this whole thing. Trust me. I learned that lesson with Patience.” Percy shook his head vigorously as he remembered how Patience had backed him into a corner when he’d fallen in love with Rhea. His sister had managed to gain the upper hand in that particular argument. Not that he minded because he’d won Rhea’s heart in the end.

“There are things we can do to nudge the matter in the right direction.” Charles shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, there’s no we in this conversation at all.” Percy waved his hand in a negative gesture. “I’ve learned that interfering in the love interests of others will only bring you headaches.”

“I’m not talking about interfering.” Charles raised his head with a sly smile on his face. It made him look a great deal like the boy Percy had roomed with years ago. “Actually, I’m thinking about your sisters.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to have me ask them to interfere?”

“I would never suggest that. However, making them think it was their idea…”

“In other words, tell them about the situation and tell them not to interfere.”

“Precisely. If there’s one thing I know about your sisters, it’s that the minute you tell them not to do something, they invariably do exactly that.” Charles grinned at him.

“I cannot deny that,” Percy said with a chuckle. “I’ll mention Mathias’s drinking bout tomorrow to Louisa. She’ll find a way to address the situation.”

“Excellent.” Charles grinned as he took another drink of his brandy.

“Speaking of interference, have you heard the latest about Lady Beatrice?” Percy asked quietly.

“No.”

The short, sharp reply made Percy grimace. Charles finished the rest of his drink in one gulp then turned to refill his glass. When he turned around to face Percy, his expression was neutral.

“Gossip from America, I presume.”

Despite the lazy drawl in Charles voice, Percy knew his friend well. Whatever had happened between the couple, their relationship had ended with Beatrice sailing off to America on the arm of a steel magnate. He cleared his throat softly and shook his head.

“It seems her husband died suddenly, and Beatrice came home a wealthy woman. I just remembered the two of you seemed quite close at one time.” Percy rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture.

“As I recall, I escorted her to one or two soirees, but it was never anything to remark upon.” Charles took another sip of his brandy, his face still impassive.

“She has a son.” Percy looked down at his drink. “He reminds me of you when we were first at Eaton.”