Deceived

by Megan Derr

  "Oh!" Otis said excitedly. "You never mentioned you were great friends with someone so famous."

  Haven ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly nervous. He had not meant to make such a fuss. "I did not realize he was so famous here, honestly. He is back home, of course, but to me he is just a friend." He smiled ruefully. "We grew up together, and saw one another in all manner of scrapes. It is hard to hold a man in awe when you have seen him at his worst and most humiliating."

  Knox laughed. "That is certainly true. My friends and I have never impressed one another terribly. Too many nights stumbling about in a disgraceful state back to our lodgings, and the agonies of the morning after. Never mind a thousand other things which serve well to ruin any chance at being awed." He laughed again.

  Haven turned away, realizing that if he did not, he would stare, and he hated to think what might happen if he were caught staring.

  Gods, please don't let him start acting that stupid. It had already been proven impossible to make friends here. He did not need the additional heartache of hoping for more. Knox, he must remember, was only doing this so they would not have to continue playing seconds for a host of duels.

  "It is simply extraordinary," Knox said as his laughter eased. "He is quite famous here, and all this time you are his close friend."

  Haven smiled. "I suppose it must seem rather silly."

  "Only impressive," Knox said, a soft smile curving his mouth. "In my experience, most men—especially those new to society—with such a claim to make would be shouting it into the ears of all and sundry."

  "Oh," Haven said, feeling stupid he could think of nothing else to say.

  "So when is the next book due out, Haven?" Otis asked eagerly.

  "Well, the one which follows Sparrow is in my office this very moment. The last letter I received, he was a quarter through the next, which means by now he must be nearly finished."

  "You're translating one now?" Henry exclaimed, all but falling off his horse in excitement.

  Haven nodded. "Yes, though it is slow going. Another month or so, however, should see it completed."

  "Oh, splendid," Henry said. "Can I tell my mother? Would that be permissible, my lord?"

  "I do not see why not," Haven replied.

  "I shall have to tell my sisters," Otis said. "Just think, I have the translator for the Hummingbird novels for a friend, and he is very close friends with the author!"

  Haven shook his head, and looked around for any distraction which may finally turn the conversation.

  At least Henry and Otis seemed to be getting along, or at least not arguing. That, he supposed, was worth a few minutes of embarrassment.

  "Well, I would say we have about concluded our ride around the park," Knox said. "Would the two of you care to join us for breakfast?"

  Haven was tempted—so very tempted. As foolish as it no doubt was, he was loathe to give up this semblance of friendship. Another hour or so of pretending sounded as sweet as it did painful. "I wish I could, but I've another translation which must be finished by tomorrow, and I've quite a bit of work left on it. If I put them off another day, the publishers will come for my head."

  "Of course," Knox said lightly, smiling as though his words had been expected.

  He wondered, suddenly, if Knox had only offered to be polite, after all, and had hoped he would say no.

  Just as well he had, then.

  Shoving away bitter disappointment, he reminded himself he was only getting what he deserved for letting false hopes rise. "Otis," he said, "have a good day and try to stay out of trouble. Send me word, or come and see me, should you require anything of me. Master Young, I hope the rest of the day finds you well." He hesitated, then summoned as bright a smile as he could manage, hoping he did not look as pathetic as he felt. "Lord Knox, it was a pleasure to spend the morning thus. I almost see why people enjoy them. I thank you for the gracious invitation, and hope the rest of the day finds you well. Gentlemen."

  "The very same to you," Knox replied, bowing his head and shoulders. "The pleasure was mine."

  Nodding, Haven turned away and rode home.

  *~*~*

  You don't say," Bart said, sipping at his coffee. Around them their favorite coffee house bustled with fellow customers, clamoring and chatting, some shouting, and someone was singing. It was nearly enough to drown out his friends—but not quite enough. "Well, he did look as smart as he did pretty," Bart continued. "He really is quite perfect for you."

  "He likes to read, knows five languages, is beautiful, and pleasant and you think he is perfect for me?" Alexis asked dryly, and took a sip of cream-rich coffee. "Do stop interfering in my life, Bart."

  "Can't help it," Bart said cheerfully. "Everyone knows this. Anyway, I never said a word about pleasant. I do believe you picked that one."

  "Shut up," Alexis snapped. "It was simple observation. You know my rules."

  "Made to be broken," Maitland said absently, not looking up from the book he was reading. "Even I know that much. Lazarre is fond of these books. He reads them in his own language, though. And your dragon does the translations for both. Simply extraordinary. I'm astonished the Goldstone club has not snatched him right up."

  "They don't know," Alexis reminded him, pointedly ignoring the 'your dragon' bit. "He was taken completely aback at the enthusiasm with which we responded to his revelation. I think he must have no concept just how popular those novels are."

  Maitland snorted and closed his book, setting it down to take up his own black coffee. "Well, he will comprehend it soon enough, I should think. Once Bolton and Young tell their relatives, it will be all over society by afternoon tea. Your poor dragon will probably find himself drowning in invitations." He looked slyly over his coffee cup at Alexis. "You may want to snap him up before another seduces him away."

  "Not you too!" Alexis said, exasperated. "Honestly, why are you doing this? What are you, a bunch of gossiping old biddies eager to pair off every unattached person?"

  "You didn't see the way you were staring at him last night," Maitland said with a shrug. "It's not something we've seen from you since…" He motioned vaguely in the air. "You know who."

  Alexis glared, and demanded icily, "Just how was I staring at him?"

  Bart was oddly solemn as he replied, "Like you didn't want to stop."

  Glowering, Alexis said nothing, merely drank his coffee. Rubbish. Linwood was interesting and beautiful, he did not deny it. That did not mean Alexis was besotted or some such rot. "Perhaps I'm just making a new friend," he said at last. "I do not know why it must be anything more."

  "You have a great deal of nerve calling Young and Bolton stubborn," Bart replied, shaking his head.

  Alexis rolled his eyes.

  "Is he attending any affairs tonight?" Maitland asked. "I could find out for you, if you do not know. Alas, I cannot come with you, for I must play man of affairs the rest of the day and night, but I am certain if you require someone to support your efforts at snaring your dragon, Bart would gladly go along. He could at least watch Young and Bolton, so you might woo in peace."

  "He is not mine!" Alexi snapped, almost shouting, slamming his coffee cup down. "Cease with this harassment; I have had enough of it."

  "All right, all right," Bart said with a sigh. "We'll stop."

  "Thank you," Alexis said stiffly.

  Bloody hell, he wished Linwood had agreed to breakfast. Then he might now be discussing novels and the orient and history and not tolerating the well-intended but nevertheless aggravating harassment of his friends.

  That, he admitted morosely, was the true source of his ire. He had offered the invitation impulsively, but sincerely—and had not expected the rejection, though he'd tried to accept it gracefully.

  He felt there could be a real friendship there, but perhaps Linwood had no interest in any friends he might make here. His family was an honorable and highly respected one, and they had held their title for nearly fifteen generations, but none of that
would mean anything to Linwood. Certainly he was no famous author.

  Or perhaps, he realized in annoyance and dismay, Linwood really did have work to do and he should stop acting like a disappointed, paranoid, besotted fool.

  Grimacing, he finished his coffee and stood.

  "Where the devil are you going?" Bart demanded.

  "There are things I must attend," Alexis replied. "I will see the two of you at the Prince's ball, if not well before that."

  Bart nodded—and did not look fooled for a moment. "Well, Maitland has secured permission for Lazarre to come for the week at my house, and of course Perry will be there. If you feel like bringing your new friend, do."

  "Shut up," Alexis muttered, and stomped out of the coffee house.

  Out on the street, he let out a long sigh, then began to slowly walk home.

  Was he really being so stupid as to pursue a romance with Linwood? Surely not. He knew better. Romances were all well and good, but he had learned the hard way he was not meant for one. He was simply incapable of being intelligent where romance was concerned.

  Charles.

  Had it really been almost fifteen years ago? He wondered where the stupid bastard was now, if he was even still alive. Surely someone had finally put a shot in the bastard.

  Alexis had never suffered from shyness or hesitation, at least not in those days. At one and twenty years, he'd had as many lovers to his name as duels—a number embarrassingly high, looking back.

  He'd fallen in and out of lust and infatuation so many times, it was a wonder he didn't make himself sick with it. None of them had been even remotely close to Charles, though. As much as he hated admitting it, his friends were right. He'd stared hard at Charles that first night, and hadn't wanted ever to stop.

  Charles had stared back, though, and Alexis had thought himself the luckiest man alive.

  Looking back, it was so easy to see how bad the bastard had been for him. The duels had increased with Charles, as had the carousing, the spending…

  Until he'd learned the bastard was gambling on his name and money, and cheating on him besides. With those sickening revelations came a whole slew of other bitter realities, concerning both Charles and other aspects of his life. Nearly all of it his own fault, or of his making, and he had not trusted himself ever since.

  Even at the end of it all, though, he'd not been able to do more to Charles than let his shot go wide, and tell the bastard to never show his face again. After that, he had sworn off duels and lovers.

  Charles had also possessed dark hair and bewitching eyes, though his had been a dark blue-green rather than whiskey gold.

  Was he taken with Linwood? No, certainly not. He admired the man's beauty, any fool would. He admired the intelligence—brilliance, even. Such a thing was in rare supply and should be admired.

  These weren't, however, the only things he admired. He liked that Linwood was so unpolished in a number of little ways, though he could more than hold his own in any drawing room. He liked that Linwood would help young Otis, though he had no obligation whatsoever.

  He liked the way Linwood smiled, and laughed, and raked a hand through his hair when he was agitated.

  "Damn it," Alexis said softly. What was he supposed to do now?

  Pursue it?

  No. He couldn't. That would be the height of stupidity.

  He glared at a street vendor, barley noticing the way the man recoiled. Refusing to think about anything, he increased his pace and stalked home.

  *~*~*

  Several hours later, he was hiding in a corner at the Summerton ball, still in a foul mood that was growing progressively worse.

  He'd not expected to see Linwood here—but in he'd come, just half an hour ago, accompanied by a beaming Otis.

  It had taken only minutes for him to be besieged by the curious and the admiring, and even across the room Alexis could occasionally catch snatched bits of the conversations. The reclusive Linwood had already made of himself a celebrity.

  "We told you to snatch him up before another seduced him away," Bart said as he slid up to stand next to Alexis.

  "Shut up," Alexis snarled, too malcontent with the entire situation to further argue.

  Bart looked at him, expression equal part amusement and exasperation. "I think you may still have a chance, if you go over there straight away. I was watching him while I made my way through the buffet. He keeps sneaking glances at you."

  Alexis' mouth tightened. He did not reply.

  "Lex," Bart with a long sigh. "Just do it, for gods' sake. You have wallowed in misery long enough. It will not kill you to take a chance."

  Alexis was not so certain of that, but did not voice the thought. Bart would only take it as encouragement.

  Bart rolled his eyes, then snatched away Alexis' wine glass and set both it and his own down on the window sill nearby.

  Then he grabbed Alexis' arm and dragged him from the corner, all but throwing him in the direction of Linwood and his crowd of admirers. "Go talk to him," Bart said, "or I will do things my way."

  Shooting him a nasty glare, Alexis obeyed. Bart taking matters into his own hands was more than sufficient as a threat.

  He walked across the ballroom on leaden feet, heart racing with anticipation and dread.

  Linwood was as beautiful as ever, dressed in deep green velvet with touches of dark gold. Stunning as he was, Alexis far preferred disheveled Linwood. No one else had ever visited Linwood at three in the morning and seen him in beautiful disarray.

  His stomach churned as he wondered if perhaps others had, and he was mistaken in assuming he was the only.

  Seeking a moment's distraction, he looked around the ballroom and nearly faltered to a stop to see Henry and Otis speaking earnestly and peacefully together.

  Then he was suddenly part of the throng surrounding Linwood, and had no means of stalling further.

  "You really must come for tea," he heard Lord Caruthers say.

  His lip curled in distaste. Caruthers. If ever there was a man he wished he did not know, the nasty little pig.

  Caruthers currently had his hand on Linwood's arm, acting with entirely too much familiarity.

  "I do not know," Linwood replied. He turned his head to smile at Alexis. "If my fellow second has appeared, I must be certain my presence is not required by him to prevent some catastrophe."

  He couldn't bear it, this stirring of possessiveness, the pangs of jealousy. The longing to never stop staring. If he were honest, his reply was fueled solely by panic, but there was more than enough honestly souring his stomach, and so he ignored the guilt that flared even as he spoke. "Not at all," he said smoothly, voice idle, polite—disinterested. "All seems well, please do as you like. I have no claims to make upon your time."

  Linwood flinched for the barest moment, recovering almost as soon as he reacted. Alexis wanted to take the rejection back, but could not seem to make his tongue work.

  The hesitant smile Linwood had offered faded into one of stiff, empty politeness as he returned his attention to the detestable Caruthers. "Then it would seem, my lord, that I can attend your tea."

  "Splendid, I—"

  Alexis did stay to hear what else Caruthers might say.

  He almost escaped, but Bart blocked his route.

  "You're a bloody fucking fool," Bart said. "You'd rather leave him to Caruthers than stake a bloody claim?"

  Alexis glared. "He's an adult."

  "He turned to you for help," Bart snapped, "and you left him to that shark. I never took you for a coward before, Lex, but that is certainly the part you're playing now."

  "So it would seem," Alexis snapped. "Bugger off."

  Bart threw his hands up, tossed him a few rather creative epithets, and finally stormed off.

  Alexis sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and decided he was going to spend the rest of the wretched night drinking himself into a stupor.

  A gentle touch to his shoulder had him jerking around, ready to lose his barel
y contained temper on the unfortunate idiot foolish enough to bother him.

  But Linwood's unhappy face drew him up short.

  "I wanted to apologize," Linwood said quietly, dark whiskey eyes shadowed.

  "What?" Alexis asked, confused. He was fairly certain it was he who owed the apology.

  "You have been most kind to me, these past couple of days, since we met because of Henry and Otis. Since my arrival, other than Otis and my editors, you are the only one who has extended any kindness. I should not have abused that kindness by presuming a friendship. Please, forgive me. I did not intend any insult. I will certainly trouble you no further."

  Alexis stared, too horrified to think of a single thing to say. Is that what Linwood—blast, he really was a bastard.

  And a coward.

  Linwood's uncertain smile faded away entirely as the silence stretched on. He lowered his eyes. "I—"

  The sounds of shouting, as well as the sound of flesh striking flesh, cut off whatever he had been about to say.

  "Damn it!" Alexis bellowed the words loud enough the whole of the ballroom fell into a stark silence. "I've had enough," he said, and charged across the ballroom toward Henry and Otis—lunging at the last when it looked as though they were going to run. "You were warned what would happen if you continued this behavior."

  Taking them by the scruffs of their necks, he dragged Henry and Otis from the ballroom, heedless of the spectacle he had just helped them make.

  Finding an empty room, not really caring whether he had permission to use it or not—and no one would dare tell him no right now anyway—he threw them inside and turned to shut the door.

  Linwood appeared, slipping in and shutting the door himself.

  Alexis turned away, and let his temper have its way.

  "Are you quite happy with yourselves?" he demanded, taking in the split lip Henry sported, the bruise forming around Otis's right eye. "Is this what you want? Violence? Are you so eager to draw blood?" He pointed to the sabers mounted on the wall behind their heads. "Go ahead, have at it. Mark, wound, draw blood. When you are both bleeding to death, will you be content?"