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Bartlett, Viscount Bromley, was not dead. He was here and breathing, the past covering him like a dull shroud, but nevertheless still quick.

      Everything was possible whilst life bloomed and her brother and his friends would not desert him. She knew that from what Jacob had said. Placing her hands together she prayed.

      ‘Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you...’ Thessalonians again. She murmured the scripture into the silence with an emotion that she found both comforting and worrying.

      Tonight she would dream of him just as she had done a thousand times since he had disappeared, his arms around her body and his warm lips covering her own.

      But this time it would be different for he was no longer just a ghost.

      * * *

      Frederick’s carriage collected him the next morning well before the luncheon and when he arrived at the home of the Challengers in St James’s Square, Nick understood just how happy his friend was these days.

      Georgiana, Fred’s wife, was gracious and welcoming even with the house in an uproar as it made itself ready for the evening’s entertainment.

      ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Bromley.’ A real smile touched her blue eyes and although she did not look at his scar, she did not look away from it either. ‘I have heard much about you for Frederick has spoken of you so very often.’

      ‘I hope he concentrated on my good qualities rather than the bad ones.’ He tried to keep his tone light.

      ‘The wildness of youth is never easy, I fear, and often misrepresented, but rest assured my husband has missed you.’

      In such wisdom Nick detected that Georgiana’s life might have had its own complexities and he wondered about her story.

      * * *

      Half an hour later when he and Fred were alone in the library and a drink had been poured, Nick put his head back against the leather rest of a large wing chair and took in breath.

      ‘Your wife has the knack of making this all look easy,’ he said finally. ‘A house of things being both interesting and alive, but without the chaos of your upbringing? Where did you meet her?’

      ‘I first saw her at Vitium et Virtus late one night when she was auctioning off her virginity to the highest bidder, wearing nothing more than a silk concoction that was barely decent.’

      Nick laughed at that and liked the sound of it. ‘And I gather that the winner of such an unusual prize was yourself?’

      ‘Fortunately.’

      They both took a drink and listened to the low rumbling noise of the busy house.

      ‘Georgie was promised in marriage to Sir Nash Bowles and doing her level best to get out of it. It was the only plan she could think of. Unwise but spectacularly successful.’ Frederick’s laugh was deep.

      ‘Bowles was there? At the club?’

      ‘He was.’ Fred had sobered now at mention of that name, the good humour of a second ago fading markedly.

      ‘One of the last things I remember is warning him to never darken its door again, but he obviously returned.’

      ‘My wife sees him as perverted and cruel.’

      ‘And I would agree with her.’

      ‘Well, the one thing I do thank him for is his threats to unmask her completely. It was only because she thought she might be shunned as a pariah when the ton got wind of her improper plan that she agreed to marry me.’

      ‘A wise choice.’ Nick lifted his glass and finished the brandy before placing it down on the table beside him and refusing Frederick’s offer of another. ‘The world you all live in has changed a lot since I have been gone.’

      ‘And you have changed in appearance since last night. Jacob’s barber is a magician, by the way.’

      ‘The bath helped, too. The Westmoor physician also came this morning to see to my hand. He says he expects it to heal completely if I am careful.’

      ‘Knife wounds can be difficult things.’

      ‘The blade hit the bone at the back of the wrist, but at least it did not break.’

      ‘Which explains the sling. If you don’t want to be thrown into society so quickly by coming tonight, Nick, I will understand. After the army it was hard for me to fit straight back in.’

      ‘Because you felt different? Out of place?’

      ‘Yes, and because I had seen things that no one else could even imagine.’

      Frederick was quiet then and Nicholas was glad of it.

      ‘I had thought to go to ground, but if I don’t come tonight it will only get harder. Better to get it over and done with. I saw Lady Eleanor yesterday, too, by the way.’ He tried to keep interest out of his words though he was not certain he had succeeded as Frederick looked up. ‘What is her story?’

      ‘Jake is very tight lipped about his sister, but from what I can gather the man she married was from a well-thought-of family in Edinburgh. The Robertsons.’

      ‘Was it the family of the Robertson boy we knew at school, then?’

      ‘No, by all accounts he was not related to them. Douglas Robertson, Eleanor’s husband, was killed falling off a horse, apparently in some hunting accident, and when Eleanor found out she was pregnant she came home to Millbrook to have her baby daughter, Lucy. And to grieve.’

      Lucy. Nick stored the name inside him and thought how hard a path that must have been for a sheltered duke’s daughter with all the promise in the world.

      A bit like him, perhaps, although his promise had been dimming even before his absence from England. His uncle had encouraged him into the profligate and debauched underworld of the ton and he had gone in to welcome the inherent risks with his eyes wide open.

      ‘Do you ever think, Fred, that maybe we were fools back then, playing so hard and fast?’

      ‘I think you and Oliver were the ones who were the worst of us although you held the biggest share in Vitium et Virtus and gambled away the most money.’

      ‘It was fun until it wasn’t,’ he returned and stood to look out of the window. ‘I will go up to Bromworth House tomorrow and see my uncle.’

      ‘Take my carriage.’

      ‘Oliver offered me the use of his yesterday.’

      ‘Will you live there this time, do you think? Put down roots and stay?’

      Nicholas shrugged his shoulders because he truly did not know.

      ‘My advice would be to find a wife like mine, Nick. A woman who can be the better half of you, for without Georgiana at my side I’d still be lost.’

      As I am, Nicholas thought, and felt the shiver of ghosts walk down his spine.

      Frederick leant forward, swirling the brandy around in his glass. ‘We can move the club on into other hands, younger ones. It’s probably past time.’

      ‘Do you have anyone in mind?’

      ‘Half the upcoming bucks of the ton would jump to it in a second, but it has to be the right people. A group of friends like us maybe, people who could work together.’ He smiled, his brown eyes soft. ‘For so long we all feared you were dead, Nick. For so long we talked of you with sorrow and regret even as we relived your wildest exploits. It is good to have you back again and in one piece.’

      ‘Well, perhaps not quite one piece, Frederick.’ That truth settled between them.

      ‘The bits will come back to you, but give it time and don’t force it. One day you will rise in the morning and realise life is easier and that the demons that once threatened to engulf you are more distant.’

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