Page 62 of Brigand

When Ewan arrived at William’s townhouse, where he plannedto stay for the duration, he found his friend in residence. He greeted him withsurprise and not a small fraction of pleasure. Truth be told, he’d felt alittle bereft driving away from Wyeth House all alone and wasn’t lookingforward to the prospect of spending the next three months in his own company.

William clapped him on the shoulder and led him into thelibrary. “Welcome to London, my friend,” he said with a wide grin.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

William shrugged and poured them both a drink. “I wasn’tplanning on coming when I offered you the house but then some business…arose.”He slanted a glance in Ewan’s direction. “I hope you don’t mind my presence?”

“Not at all. In fact I think I might appreciate seeing afriendly face now and again.”

Gray eyes glittered with humor. “Was it that bad?”

Ewan blew out a breath. “Worse.”

“Moncrieff was an ass then?”

“Not a bit of it. He was actually quite cordial. Once Iapologized.”

William barked a laugh. “Never say it. The indomitableMcCloud? Groveling for forgiveness?”

“Hardly groveling.”

“Still, a sight many a man would pay to see.”

“Thankfully it was a private conversation.”

William lifted his glass. “Small favors.”

“Aye.”

“So what are the plans for the season?”

“Apparently I shall be spending a lot of money.”

William threw back his head and laughed again. “I could havetold you that.”

“There’s to be a party and a debut ball. I’ve beeninstructed to attend dinner tonight to discuss the details of those.”

“Instructed?” A tawny brow winged upward. “By whom?”

“Hortense Bigby.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She’s Moncrieff’s aunt and the general in charge of thisassault.”

“You say that in jest, my friend, but you have no idea howfierce these tonnish harpies can be.”

“I have no idea about any of this.” It was true. Discomfort—thathorrible sense of being completely out of his element—prickled at his nape.

“Not to worry. I shall coach you. Don’t gape at me so. Myfather is a baron and a member of the House of Lords. I’ve been through allthis before.”

“Your father is a member of Parliament?” Good God. When hethought of all the mischief he and William had gotten into together, his bloodwent cold.

William just laughed. “The expression on your face ispriceless. Yes. My father is a member of Parliament. But I, good sir, am theblack sheep of the family. Nevertheless, I should be able to give you somepointers. I take it you can arrange an invitation to the soirees for me?”

“Yes. Certainly.” At least he assumed he could.

“Excellent. Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “where shallwe begin?”