is why Visel hates me—he blames me. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because I knew you’d get that look on your face: the one you are wearing right now. The one you were wearing when you came back from Oran this last time.”
“What look is that?” he snapped.
“As if you’d like to put a pistol to your head.” Byer leaned forward. “What happened to Visel’s family is not your fault, Gabe.”
“Where did the ship take the prisoners?”
Byer shook his head.
“Tell me, dammit!”
Four men at the nearest table turned at the sound of his raised voice. Gabriel got hold of his frazzled emotions. “Just tell me.”
“Oran.”
Gabriel groaned. “Good Lord. Why don’t I recall reading about any of this?”
“It was small news compared to Napoleon’s escape. People were in a state of shock and paying attention to the resumption of war—not the sinking of a ship. As for Visel’s sister? Well, the duke has impressive connections and made sure the story was not spread—on the chance the girl could be ransomed.”
“How the hell do you know about it?”
Byer just gave him a stony look. This wasn’t the first time Gabriel had wondered what his friend was really up to when he hadn’t been in their shared lodgings at Oxford. That there was more to Byer was apparent—Gabriel already knew that—but he suspected the man kept even deeper secrets hidden beneath his lazy, foppish façade.
“So, Visel wants to make me suffer because somebody else—quite probably one of Assad’s captains—killed his family.”
“You are the only one left to punish.”
Gabriel knew his friend was correct—no matter how mad or illogical it was. “Then why did he apologize and call off the duel?”
Byer’s face flushed, and he shifted in his chair.
“What? What is it you are not telling me?”
His friend shook his head. “No. If I tell you, you’ll kill the man.”
Gabriel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I will not. I give you my word.”
Still Byer hesitated.
“Byer—”
“All right, all right.” He raised his hand. “But I’ll need another glass for this.” He waved to a waiter and held up two fingers.
“I didn’t ask for that,” Gabriel said.
“No, but I think you’ll be glad you have it.”
“Will you just get on with it?”
“Visel apologized that night because he’d already gotten his revenge. Not only was he pleased about breaking up your budding romance with the Kitten, but he felt you’d been doubly punished by being forced to marry Miss—” Byer grimaced.
Gabriel stared. “Go on.”
“Dash it, Gabe—why must you make me say it? Fine.” He went on before Gabriel could answer. “Visel said it was punishment enough to be forced to marry a woman like Miss Clare.”
Gabriel stared at Byer without seeing his friend. His blood boiled, but not just with fury at Visel. No, words always hurt the worst when there was a grain of truth to them. And it was the unfortunate truth that he, too, had viewed marrying Drusilla as a harsh punishment.
“I told you that you wouldn’t like it,” Byer said, pulling Gabriel’s thoughts away from his shame.
No, he didn’t like it. In fact, he burned at the insult to his wife. “When the hell did you hear this?”
“He told me.”
“What?”
“Yes, he told me that night—not long after he apologized. You had left to go to Exley House and I ran into Visel at Mc-Nair’s.” McNair’s was a notorious gambling den so vile even the Runners avoided it. Byer, of course, adored the place.
Gabriel shook his head in disgust. “He told you because he wanted me to know.”
“Precisely. Which is exactly why I didn’t run and tell you.”
“If Visel is so damned happy at trapping me into marriage, then why is he lurking about my bloody house and what the devil is he plotting with Rowland?”
The waiter dropped off the fresh drinks, and Byer handed one to Gabriel before picking up the other. “That, my friend, is something I do not know,” Byer admitted, and then grinned at Gabriel like a mischievous boy. “But I’m bloody curious to find out—aren’t you?”
Chapter 18
Gabriel finished tying his cravat and stepped back to examine the results. His clothing looked well enough, but there were dark circles beneath his eyes and the grooves that ran between his nose and mouth seemed twice as deep as they’d been at the beginning of the Season.
He slipped into the coat Drake held out for him, exhausted. He’d been burning the candle at both ends since the night he’d caught Rowland in the garden, but so far