Reckless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,65

away, a few short years

"I doubt my father appreciates your sacrifice," Adrian said wryly. Etienne's abandonment of his medical career had coincided with his claiming the disputed title— the comte de Giverney would hardly have kept his surgery open, the surgery Rohan money had paid for.

"No, your father has always questioned my affection for him," Etienne said sadly. And then he brightened. "Lady Kate is bringing in new girls, including an African one. Why don't I see if we can take them with us when we rusticate. It would certainly make the time go more quickly. And I can have them ship several cases of the cognac I've just taken possession of. The time will pass in a trice.”

"Etienne, I have no desire for the time to pass quickly. No desire for African whores, cognac, or, I'm afraid, your company."

Etienne looked taken aback. "Well." he said. "I see. I had no idea my friendship had become burdensome. I'll relieve you of it..."

“Don't be tiresome, Etienne," Adrian said. "You know I love you, and there's no one I'd rather spend time with." A month ago, a week ago, that would have been true. Now, for all his polite protests, he wanted nothing more than lo get away from him. "It's simply that I want some time alone. Is that so difficult to comprehend?"

Etienne was clearly undecided as to whether he should continue to be offended or let Adrian charm him out of it. "It's not like you," he said grumpily. "And I don't believe it's good for you. The season has barely begun. If you still feel the need to rusticate in another month then I won't argue."

This was getting as tedious as everything else, and Adrian gave in. "A month," he agreed. He looked around him. "Where's that boy with the wine? My glass is empty." He managed to summon up a smile. "I'll wager a hundred pounds he doesn't come before I have to go fetch him."

"Done," said Etienne, grinning at him. "Though I might have to borrow the hundred pounds. I'm running a bit short nowadays."

"Just get the boy here sooner and you'll win the money."

"But if you lend me the hundred pounds for the wager then when I win I'll have two hundred," Etienne said, practical as always.

Adrian laughed. "So you will. Consider it done. We'll settle up tomorrow."

He didn't really want to go to the country, he thought, tossing back the glass that Etienne had seen promptly filled. He didn't want to be alone, with nothing to distract him. He didn't want to be thinking about the look on Charlotte Spenser's face when he was inside her. He didn't want to be thinking aboul any woman. He wanted lo get roaring drunk, visit Lady Kate's bawdy house and work out

Charlotte had never taken him in her mouth. There hadn't been time to talk her into that particular delight. Perhaps he could enjoy Lady Kate's specialist again. Or he could simply see if the madam had a girl with coppery hair in her exotic stable.

Faith, one wench was as good as another. He hadn't truly enjoyed those two days in his little cave, had he? It must have been the novelty of it that made it stick in his mind. If he'd had an experienced woman the time would have passed in a much more pleasant fashion.

Then again, if he'd an experienced woman he would have never activated the locked door, and he would have gotten rid of her as soon as he politely could. So perhaps his current edginess was simple boredom, the need for novelty.

He could seek out other virgins, like some of the Heavenly Host were wont to do. Or he could broaden his horizons and consider men.

No, he couldn't see the appeal.

Which brought him around to the question of Montague. After taking off in pursuit of Charlotte, he hadn't seen his old friend again. He'd looked more frail than usual, and it was difficult to tell whether the bright spots of color on his pale face were signs of fever or a lavish hand with the rouge pot. If he retired to the country for a bit he could go by way of Sussex, check on Monty to make sure he was feeling well. He hadn't been in town this season, and Adrian had the lowering feeling that Monty's London days were at an end.

As long as he didn't die. No one had died in Adrian's life, no one he truly cared about,