Sheri Cobb South Read Online Free PDF Page B

Linus at all, but to Lord Carteret, who held the bank.
    “Deal me in,” he said tersely, tossing off his brandy in a single gulp.
    Sir Aubrey had been listening to the old knight’s jests as appreciatively as anyone, but upon hearing this utterance, his mouth dropped open so far that his chin nearly grazed the floor. It was well known that Mr. Brundy never gambled; in fact, Sir Aubrey was one of the few who knew about the high-stakes game in which Mr. Brundy had wagered his cotton mill against his wife’s diamond necklace, which had fallen into the hands of the unscrupulous earl of Waverly.
    “Are you feeling all right, Ethan?” asked Sir Aubrey in some concern.
    “Never better,” answered Mr. Brundy in a voice which dared anyone to suggest otherwise.
    A fine instinct for self-preservation warned Sir Aubrey not to press the issue, and play was resumed without further comment. Mr. Brundy won the first hand, but seemed even more displeased with his winnings than Sir Aubrey had with his losses.  He scowled impatiently at the pile of coins Lord Carteret pushed across the table to him and, with a recklessness which both fascinated and horrified Sir Aubrey, he staked all his winnings on the next hand. When it, too, proved a winner, he pushed back his chair in disgust.
    “No more for me, gentlemen,” he said, then collected the pile of coins and rose from the table.
    “Quitting so soon?” asked Mr. Jemison.
    “No need to be selfish, Brundy,” chided Sir Linus jovially. “You might at least share the wealth—you certainly have enough of it to go around.”
    Mr. Brundy made as if to reply, then thought better of it, settling instead for clenching his jaw and leaving the other players without so much as a fare-thee-well.
    Sir Aubrey, by this time convinced beyond all doubt that something was troubling his friend, followed and ran his quarry to earth in the reading room, where he was glaring at the financial page of the Times with so fierce an expression that Sir Aubrey would not have been surprised had it burst into flames.
    “Have you heard the news, Ethan?” he asked with studied nonchalance. “The latest on dit has it that your nemesis, Lord Waverly, has skipped to the Continent to elude his creditors.”
    Mr. Brundy’s only reply was a noncommittal grunt.
    “Not to pry, old fellow,” Sir Aubrey persisted, “but what’s eating you?”
    Mr. Brundy’s gaze shifted from his newspaper to his friend while he debated what answer, if any, to return. Good friend though he was, Sir Aubrey would not have been his confidante of choice; that would be Lord David Markham, a rising member of Parliament whose successful campaign he had funded. Unfortunately, Lord David had recently married, and had promptly borne his bride off to Paris. Lord David, he reflected morosely, had the right idea.
    By contrast, Sir Aubrey was a confirmed bachelor with inclinations toward dandyism, who was far more concerned with the fall of his cravat than the vacant nursery at Tabor Hall—hardly a promising source to turn to for help with difficulties of a marital nature. Still, Sir Aubrey was possessed of a pair of functioning ears, and had professed a willingness to use them. Mr. Brundy elected to avail himself of the opportunity to vent his spleen.
    “Tell me, Aubrey, would you say I’m a selfish man?”
    “Is that what’s troubling you?” Sir Aubrey dismissed his friend’s concerns with a wave of his slender, aristocratic hand. “Pay no heed to Sir Linus; he’s more than a trifle bosky, you know.”
    “‘Twasn’t Sir Linus I’m thinking on. ‘elen ‘urled the same accusation at me earlier this evening.”
    “Oho!” exclaimed Sir Aubrey with a knowing grin. “So the honeymoon is over, is it?”
    “In this case, it ‘adn’t even begun,” confessed Mr. Brundy. “We leave for Brighton in the morning—all three of us,” he added darkly.
    If it were possible, Sir Aubrey’s grin grew wider. “Three?”
    “Aye, laugh if