inviting them, and Carlson has been accounted Byron’s better-looking twin. I believe he not only offended her, he frightened her.”
Oak tried to wash the ache from his throat with a sip of ale. “Carlson was lurking on the maids’ stairs, and he made advances to another man’s wife?”
“I sent him packing, gave the lady my handkerchief, and promised her discretion. I mentioned something to Dirk, and he merely laughed, but Carlson departed on urgent business the next day.”
“Where is Carlson now?”
De Beauharnais put his sandwich down untasted. “Like that, is it? You’ll call him out and avenge the honor of another man’s widow for a slight from years ago? I thought you more sensible than that, Dorning.”
Oak thought himself more sensible than that. “Carlson is a hound, but if he implied in any regard that Verity Channing encouraged his advances, then he’s a lying hound who deserves to be held accountable.”
De Beauharnais untucked the table napkin from his collar, took a sip of ale, and sat back. “Dorning, are you entangled with Mrs. Channing?”
A gentleman would never intimate that a lady had been free with her favors, and yet, Oak did not want to deny his attraction to Vera. The night before leaving for London, he had beat the stuffing out of Jeremy Forester for mistreating Alexander, though a few of those blows had been for abusing Vera’s trust too. Bracken had seen Forester off the following dawn, and reported that Forester planned to impose on friends in Manchester for the remainder of the summer.
Administering justice on Vera’s behalf had felt wonderful. Still, Vera would not be best served by gossip, so Forester’s remove to distant parts was a relief.
And De Beauharnais’s question required an answer.
“I am not entangled with anybody,” Oak said. “I am here in London to embark upon the next phase of my artistic endeavors. What rumors did you allude to regarding Verity Channing?”
“The usual.” De Beauharnais set aside his ale and folded the table napkin into precise eighths. “That she was another Anna Beaumont, that she was loyal to Dirk but not necessarily faithful, that she had appetites an older husband could not entirely satisfy.”
The food in Oak’s belly curdled. “Who would say such things?”
“They weren’t said overtly, Dorning. You know how men talk once the port starts flowing, a quip here, a clumsy jest there. I paid it all little mind.”
Perhaps at the time, that had been true, but de Beauharnais had lost the demeanor of an old friend happy to share a schoolboy raid on the larder. His gaze had gone bleak, and he wasn’t partaking of the food.
“What aren’t you telling me, Diamond?”
“I hate that name.”
“Andy, I have known you since university, and I consider us friends. What the hell aren’t you saying?”
De Beauharnais rose. “You are being fanciful, Dorning. Not at all like you. Must be the foul miasmas off the river going to your head.” He strode for the door, attempting an air of casual humor that fell flat.
“De Beauharnais—Hackett—Verity Channing came to the capital largely because I offered her my escort and encouraged her to make the journey. I have introduced her to my brothers, and I am fond of her children. I consider her a friend. If you do not tell me what the hell has put you in this odd mood, I might have to beat it out of you.”
The threat was actually a form of flattery. Oak engaged in fisticuffs with only his brothers, whom he loved dearly.
“I might like that,” de Beauharnais said, pausing at the doorway. “I might enjoy that thrashing very much. All I can tell you, Dorning, is to watch your step with Richard Longacre and take Tolly with you to any commissions Longacre sets up for you. Welcome to London.”
“So what did you do about the moony-eyed tutor?” Sycamore Dorning asked.
Vera had sent the children up to their rooms with the maid-of-all-work, a cheerful soul who introduced herself as Sissy Banks. Ash Dorning had made his farewells, claiming a need to stretch his legs after hours in the coach.
Sycamore was ostensibly showing Vera about the premises, though any fool could see the town house was lovely and commodious.
“I informed Mr. Forester that I’d decided to take a holiday of indefinite duration and could not in good conscience ask him to wait for our return.” Oak’s plan had worked wonderfully, obviating the need for harsh words and harsher judgments. Vera’s character reference for Jeremy Forester had noted his punctuality and self-confidence, which any