Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [53]
She turned back. She felt her party drifting away. All except Castleford, who remained near.
“Mrs. Joyes, I look forward to seeing you again before your visit in town ends,” Latham said.
“How generous of you, sir.”
He smiled. His shallow blue eyes sparkled with flirtatious appreciation. He bowed. And looked at her in a way that made her heart sink.
It was all there in his gaze, the memories from years ago and the interest now. The awareness that she knew more than he cared anyone to know. The rapaciousness that had no honor and accepted no laws.
She refused to join in this darker recognition. She left him as if he were a stranger. She turned on her heel and marched away, passing Castleford without ceremony, putting distance between herself and that supper box.
A hand on her arm urged her to slow down. Castleford fell into step beside her. She continued to look straight ahead.
“You know about him, don’t you?” he said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think that you do. More than dislike is written on your face right now. You are in high color in the worst way, for the worst reason.”
She did not doubt it. She was truly distressed. Embarrassed and furious at the same time. Each step made it worse, not better.
“A month before I left Becksbridge’s house, a girl, a servant, confided in me. She worked in the kitchen,” she said. “A pretty, young, innocent girl. She had been full of joy. Then, suddenly, she became so melancholy that we feared for her health.”
She stopped and looked Castleford in the eyes. “He had forced her. She showed me bruises that even days later had not faded. I had been suspicious of him, but I knew then for certain. So, yes, I know about him. And I do not understand how you, or anyone else, could ever call such a rogue a friend.”
She strode on. Once more that hand took her arm. This time he guided her out of the crowd’s flow. He escorted her this way and that, until they were in the paths known to hide lovers and clandestine meetings. Few lanterns lit this wooded area, and long shadows kept one’s identity obscure.
He stopped her in one of those shadows and took her face in both his hands. A kiss, hard at first, almost cruel. Then softer, and sweet with care. Memories from the barge poured into her. They left little room for her anger about Latham to remain.
He turned her in his arm, and they strolled in the dark.
“Imagine for me, if you can, that you were born the first son of a duke,” he said.
“I dare not. I would be spoiled just picturing the indulgence I would have to suffer.”
“Indulgence enough. But also, as soon as you could speak, lessons and preparation. Not for a minute are you allowed to forget the station waiting. Everyone treats you differently. Even your tutor defers to you. Then you go off to school, and it is worse with the dons and the beadles and with the other boys. Even sons of earls curry your favor and friendship because of who you will be one day.”
“Not Hawkeswell, surely. Not Lord Sebastian.”
“It took me a good long while to accept neither had ulterior motives. Years. It was not anything I blamed people for. It simply was the way it was. I expected it. Even now I do.”
She wondered what that was like, to always assume gestures of friendship were the giving that anticipated a larger taking.
“Latham, however, was just like me,” he said. “Is it any wonder we became friends as boys? Our alliance was of no special benefit to either one of us. We would never have cause to seek each other’s patronage. Since we would both be dukes, we did not have to play the future duke with each other either.”
She did not want to accept what he said. She preferred to believe that Latham’s character would be obvious even so. Except she knew it would not be. Almost the whole world still did not comprehend what he was. It had even taken her a long time to see the truth.
“When did you know the friendship would not last?”
He shrugged. “I sensed it by the time I reached my majority. We had wallowed together in hell by then. He insisted on labored discretion,