“Please sir, I have no wish to be rude, but I must be going.”
At that moment, the boy turned and went visibly rigid as Jules approached. The boy lowered his head and Sir Edward had no doubt that this lad recognized Jules as someone he knew.
Right, he had no wish to get the lad into trouble, but he did want him to remember that all such larks had a price. He reached out just as the boy started to turn and his hand skimmed across the lad’s midriff and caught him firmly.
The lad used some force as he yanked free and tried to run. Dark eyes looked up and pleaded as the boy whispered, “Please sir, do let me go.”
Sir Edward released him, but in his rush the lad tripped, reeled and Sir Edward reached once more to catch him as he fell. What he felt in his arms, he thought, couldn’t be a lad. No, what was he thinking? It must be a lad, perhaps younger and therefore softer…and what he thought were full breasts…no…couldn’t be?
The child murmured a thank you and rushed off, leaving Sir Edward with two things, a button, and a serious doubt.
Sir Edward examined the button and recognized the insignia of Berkley. Well well, young gentry sowing some wildness? Not a lad, but perhaps a Berkley female, looking for her lover? Or was he wrong and it was a young boy and he was off about what he felt? He was, after all, quite in his cups. He stuffed the button in his pocket.
Jules finally released himself from an acquaintance who had pulled him aside. However, this acquaintance seemed to be determined to keep him there, so Edward took pity on his friend who sent him a look that called for help. “I say, Jules…ready?”
Jules was able to disengage himself and hurried toward Sir Edward, took a long drag of air and said, “Lord save me from such as he! When I settle down and enter politics, it won’t be to do what m’father did and his father before him. Change is coming and it should. We aren’t living in the dark ages.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and asked, “Who was that boy? Someone you know?”
“No…just a lad,” he answered with a half smile. “Now, we shall have to fetch my old cob and make our way to your home my friend, for I do intend to drink you under the table and hope to be unconscious for a week.”
Jules laughed and said with surprise, “Your old cob? What mean you? A cob? How is it you are riding a cob?”
Chapter Three
STAR CLOSED THE front door at her back, and released a long breath of air as she exclaimed out loud, “Whew! Well done, Miss Berkley, well done.” She meant to watch her brother carefully from here on in. He may be older, but if he thought he could deal with such odious men and come out clean, he hadn’t a lick of sense. Indeed, it might have brought him a few sou to stave off the creditors, but at what price?
She whipped off her woolen cap, and rushed up the main staircase, down the wide corridor and stopped at the door of her brother’s room. Carefully, she opened the door and found him sitting up with a lit candle beside his bed. She walked right in and plopped on the edge of his large bed to murmur his name and shake her head. “Vern. That was the most horrible experience I have ever had. I should lecture you from now till morning, but I won’t. Ask me ever again to do something like that and I shall snub you silly!”
“Aye and it is all my fault,” he said hoarsely and looked miserable.
She eyed him and realized his face was flushed. His cheeks were red and there was a bead of sweat on his forehead.
Clucking her tongue, Star rose and hurried to his side to put a hand to his forehead and exclaimed fretfully, “Oh no! You are still quite feverish.”
“Am I? I do feel better,” he answered and waved off the problem with a lazy swish of his hand. “Now tell me, what happened. What did Farley say?”
“Hush, I will tell you all, but do not excite yourself,” she arched a look at him and then released a long sigh. “I found Farley—horrid beast of a man. I delivered your message and all is as it should be. I did not pretend to be you as you wished. It never would have worked. I said I was a cousin.”
He sank back against his pillows, “You are the most wonderful sister.”
She realized that he was humiliated by what he had been forced to tell her and ask her to do in his stead. She saw now that it had been soul draining for him.
He looked pitiful in his misery as he exclaimed, “That I sent you amongst cutthroats, smugglers and thieves. Ye gods, but I am the worst of brothers!”
“Nonsense. I was in disguise and am very good at play acting,” she smiled encouragingly at him. “I will not try and bamboozle you Vern. You know as I do, that you were wrong, however, what has passed, is over and you will never engage in such conduct again—right? You promise me?”
“I cannot promise you that,” he murmured.
“What the deuce do you mean?” she demanded in unladylike terms. “You must promise me that…Vern.”
“I am tired, sis,” he answered with a weak smile. “We’ll talk later.”
She frowned, but she could see his illness had indeed taken its toll. She patted his hand and left him to sleep.
As she made her way to her own room, she wrung her hands. What could he mean? He could not continue doing what he had been doing. It was so much
more than wrong. It was a serious crime and this evening could never be repeated. She had been so fortunate that Jules had not seen her, really seen her for he would have known at once that it was she. Jules, sweet Jules—such a good man, a handsome man and he had become increasingly…friendly as of late.
* * *