Edmond grasped the fool by the elbow and steered him toward the French doors leading onto a narrow balcony.
“Perhaps we should discuss this someplace where we can speak without creating fodder for the rumormongers.”
“There is a library…”
“Actually, I prefer the balcony.” Edmond continued to chart a ruthless course past the startled guests.
“The balcony.” Howard stumbled over his feet, only kept upright by Edmond’s firm grip. “Damnation, Huntley, it is freezing out there.”
“Perhaps it will help to clear your muddled brain.” Edmond cursed as his cousin nearly tumbled them both over a rosewood stool. “Not that it would make a great deal of difference,” he muttered.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing of importance. Come along.” Pausing to yank open the doors, Edmond shoved his cousin onto the stone balcony that overlooked the small garden, and pulled the door shut behind them.
Both men shivered as the thick fog swirled through the air before cloaking them in its clammy chill.
“Bloody hell.” Hunching his shoulders, Howard glared at the torches set on the balustrade, making a dismal attempt to fight back the darkness. “English weather at its finest.”
Edmond silently agreed. Even accustomed to the brutal weather that Russia could offer, this clinging dampness was unpleasant to endure. Still, it kept the other guests warmly tucked in the town house and allowed them a few moments of privacy.
Taking a moment to light a thin cheroot with one of the torches, he turned back to study his cousin’s petulant expression.
“Perhaps you will be kind enough to explain why you wish to plant me a facer?”
“Ha. You know very well why.”
Edmond shrugged, turning so he could watch the dim light play over his companion’s shadowed features.
“I presume it has something to do with my recent engagement?”
“By God, of course it does.”
“Surely you must have known that I would eventually wed? After all, the most important duty of a Duke is to produce an heir.”
Running a hand through his untidy hair, Howard laughed with bitter amusement. “To be honest, I hoped you were the sort who possessed a dislike for women. I mean, you have left it rather late in the day to be littering the world with little Huntleys.”
Edmond stiffened at the insult to his brother’s manhood. Mon dieu, he should toss the bastard over the balustrade and be done with him. Unfortunately he first needed to make certain that Howard Summerville was responsible for the attempts on Stefan’s life.
“And you thought if I possessed an aversion to women, you might be a step closer to the title?” he grated.
“What? Don’t be daft. Even if you never bother to have brats, your aggravating brother is bound to. No one could believe Edmond dislikes women.”
Edmond swallowed an exasperated curse. Was the man cunning enough to realize that he was suspected of Stefan’s mysterious accidents?
It seemed highly unlikely, but what other explanation could there be?
“Then why are you angered by my engagement?” he gritted.
“Because you made a damned fool of me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Howard swayed, as he tilted back his head to glare into Edmond’s face.
“Why the devil did you tell me you had come to London to enjoy the entertainments? You could at least have given me a hint to your true intentions.”
Edmond frowned. “I was not yet prepared to reveal my interest towards Miss Quinn.”