Daniel muttered something foul before following the direction of Simon’s hand. “My vision is superb, as you very well know, Kelkirk,” he snapped.
“I’m sure that was Belmont,” Simon said again. “He was certainly in a hurry.”
“And why do you care if it was?” Daniel said as they started walking towards the tavern they often frequented. “To the best of my knowledge, you’ve only ever conversed with the man in social situations. Therefore you can hardly know if he scowls daily or not.”
“If you’ll step to the left, your grace, you’ll avoid landing in that pile of steaming horse excrement.”
“I can see it!” Daniel snapped. “My vision is near perfect, for god’s sake!”
“Of course it is.” Simon always enjoyed taunting his friend.
“I’m going to carve you up after we’ve eaten, Kelkirk. I have a new foil that needs a workout, and you will not be quite so ready with your insults after that.”
“I have spoken more than two words to Belmont,” Simon said, knowing Daniel would follow his conversational leaps. After all, they had been friends for years. “When I visited Claire with your beautiful wife and daughter, he was there. In fact, we talked for some time.”
“Still, I don’t believe I’ve heard you show any interest in the man before today.”
Simon opened the tavern door and motioned for Daniel to enter before following. They walked into the dark interior and headed to the booth they usually occupied. Creatures of habit, Eva often called him and Daniel.
“Did you notice that the Belmont family have not attended any social engagements for two nights?” Simon added.
“And I repeat, why the interest in Belmont?” the duke demanded.
“Hello, my lovely lords.”
The blonde waitress had a smile as big as her ample breasts and had served them for as long as they’d been coming to her establishment. They’d never corrected her, or added that Simon was the lord and Daniel was a duke. If she wanted to call them her lovely lords, then who were they to dissuade her? Besides, the only word that really went well with duke, Simon often pointed out, was dirty.
“Still the most beautiful woman in the United Kingdom, Lottie,” Simon said.
“Tis not only you that notices, my lord,” she pushed out her breasts.
“Just the usual, please, Lottie,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes at Simon and sending the waitress on her way.
“Before you were committed to wedded bliss, Stratton, you enjoyed flirting, too, so please do not spoil it for those of us still in the unmarried state.”
Daniel leant back in the booth and looked at Simon. “As Eva called us creatures of habit, I have ordered beef and vegetable instead of rabbit.”
“Well, that’s telling her,” Simon said, looking around the dim interior. They’d been coming here since they’d first come to London over ten years ago. Not much had changed. In fact, he was sure the man slumped over the bar was a permanent fixture.
“Eva said Claire sent a note around saying she was sick, and that’s why you’ve not seen her the past two evenings.”
“Sick? What kind of sick?” Simon demanded, suddenly feeling cold all over. “A headache, I believe.”
Lottie placed their food before them with two large ales, and Simon could not dredge up his usual leer as she gave him an eyeful of her splendid breasts.
How the hell was Simon supposed to eat with a big lump in his throat?
“Something’s not right there,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. They were best friends, and Simon had never had secrets from Daniel. Besides, he needed to talk to someone.
“What’s not right where?” The duke picked up his ale and downed half of it.
“Claire. Something’s off with her. I’m sure of it.”
“You’re showing a great deal of interest in the Belmont family, and most especially a woman you cannot be within two feet off without a verbal debate erupting.”
“That’s of her making, not mine.” Simon felt moved to defend himself.
Snorting, Daniel picked up his fork and then pointed it at Simon. “Do you know, I think you could be right about Claire. I told Eva she looked out of sorts just the other day.”
Simon was sure he could eat around the lump. After all, someone had gone to the trouble of baking the pie; the least he could do was eat it. Sinking his teeth into the soft pastry, he let out a few humming noises of appreciation. “I want to tell you something, but you have to keep it to yourself,” he said after he’d swallowed.
“I don’t have secrets from my wife, Simon. You know that.”