More Than a Duke(53)
Dr. Craven executed a slight brow. “If that is all, my lord?”
“That is all,” he said tersely. “Thank you,” he added as an afterthought. The old doctor was hardly to blame for Edgerton’s ill-timing.
“I will bring them round as soon as they are complete, my lord.”
“Splendid.” And it would be a good deal more splendid if the other man took himself off. For the more he spoke, the more interest flared in Edgerton’s amused eyes.
The doctor sketched another bow and then hurried past Edgerton and out of the room. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.
Harry propped his hip on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
His friend scoffed. “Come, now, can a friend not pay another friend a visit?” He didn’t await an answer. Instead, he crossed over to Harry’s sideboard and availed himself to a decanter of brandy and a crystal glass. He carried them to the front of the room and claimed one of the leather winged-back chairs at the foot of Harry’s desk. Edgerton yanked the stopper out and splashed several fingerfuls into his glass.
“By all means, help yourself,” Harry said drolly.
“Indeed I shall.” Edgerton raised the glass in mock salute and took a drink. He hooked his ankle across his knee and drummed his fingers along the edge of his boot. “Spectacles.”
Of course he could not expect his friend would abandon all questions about Dr. Craven’s visit. “Is that a question?” he asked, with a touch of impatience.
Edgerton took another sip and eyed him over the rim of his glass. “Never tell me you’ve begun taking on with a bluestocking mistress?” He shuddered. “Egad, you’re becoming stuffy in your advancing years.” Humor fled and he leaned forward. “Who is she?”
Harry gritted his teeth. “Who is who?” He didn’t need the other man asking probing questions when all answers led back to Lady Anne Adamson.
Edgerton’s brown eyebrows knitted into a single line and then he let loose a slow whistle. He gave his head a pitying shake.
Harry tightened his jaw. “What?” he bit out. He really didn’t want to feed the other man’s humor but really, what had merited Edgerton’s pity?
“Why, they aren’t for a bluestocking mistress, after all, are they?”
Somehow, Edgerton’s words were a question that wasn’t a question. Harry remained silent.
“They are for…”
Christ.
“A lady.”
Harry went taut. In spite of a lifetime of friendship between them, he welcomed the idea of handing Edgerton a well-placed facer for his deliberate needling.
A sharp bark of hilarity exploded from his friend’s chest. The other man laughed so hard, liquid drops of brandy splashed over the side of his glass. “Oh, th-this is rich!” He set his tumbler down on the edge of Harry’s desk and dashed tears from his cheeks.
Harry drummed his fingertips upon his forearms. “I’m pleased you find this hilarious, though I must admit I can hardly fathom, what—”
“Why, you’ve gone and purchased spectacles for a lady who I gather is not your mistress.”
“You know I do not have a mistress,” he replied automatically. Bloody hell!
Edgerton widened his eyes.
Why hadn’t he insisted they were, in fact, for a bluestocking mistress, a lie far safer than the truth? He braced himself, knowing his friend well-enough to know he’d correctly surmised the young lady’s identity.
Edgerton reached inside his jacket and withdrew a crisp, white handkerchief. He dried the moisture from his cheeks and then stuffed it back inside his front pocket. “By God, it’s the Lady Anne.”
Harry let his silence serve as an answer.
His friend snorted. “Though I suspect a young lady as vain as Lady Anne would not be seen in spectacles, even if the queen herself declared it the latest fashion trend.” He chuckled. “Then, perhaps offer the lady a title of duchess and she’ll walk herself upside down by her hands if she had to.”
He balled his hands into tight fists at his friend’s ill-favored opinion of Anne. I’ll not be destitute again, Harry. Not because I’m avaricious, as you’ve accused me, but because I knew the terror of lying awake and wondering what is to become of your family…
Edgerton uncrossed his leg and rested his palms upon his knees. All earlier humor fled, replaced with a somber concern.
“I know what I am doing,” Harry muttered before his friend could speak.