What Happens in Piccadilly - Chasity Bowlin Page 0,56
him, of course. It served his own purposes to do so, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make the younger man squirm a bit before relenting. Finally, he replied, “And why should I? Do you think our friendship entitles you to any sort of special favors? It doesn’t, you know. Boys like you, well, they’re easy enough to come by.”
Burney’s face paled and his expression appeared, for a moment, to be shattered. Then he squared his shoulders, firmed his jaw and showed the first hint of spine Averston had seen from him. “It’s nice to know where I stand, I suppose.”
Averston ignored the pang of conscience. Guilt was a wasted emotion. He couldn’t let Charles Burney care for him. Caring for him would bring only heartache and misery. Their relationship would only ever be about mutual desire and gratification. Anything more than that was impossible and the sooner Burney accepted that, the lesser the likelihood of him being truly hurt. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you… only not for that reason. If I’m going to do something for you, Burney, you will be required to do something for me in return. It is the way of the world, is it not?”
“What could I possibly do for you?” Burney asked. “I have nothing.”
“You have charm, of course. You talk to people, Burney. They like you. That is not true of me. I intimidate them… I scare them. They think I will gobble them up and spit them out,” Averston said.
“And will you?”
Averston smiled. “Very likely. But that means you, Burney, will be privy to sensitive information. Confessions and confidences that could serve me well if you choose to share them.”
The younger man shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable, obviously already knowing something of use that he was hesitant to reveal. Averston decided not to press him, but to wait patiently for him to disclose it. He would, of course. In due time.
“Tell me the secrets of others, Burney, and I will keep yours… and help you to save your impoverished family,” Averston urged. “I will even dance attendance on your pretty young sister tonight.”
Burney was silent for a long moment, his thoughts clearly jumbled. He appeared to be on the verge of speaking, then abruptly changed his mind, offering a nod instead.
“Keep your ear to the ground and let me know what you discover,” Averston said and then waved his hand, dismissing the younger man. “Investments gone awry, political scandals, romantic peccadillos. All of it can be useful, if one hasn’t the uncomfortable fetter of a conscience.”
He noted the flash of hurt in Burney’s gaze. It wasn’t exactly regret that he felt. Regret wasn’t something he was capable of, but there might have been a moment of longing. For the first time in his life, Averston wondered what it would be like not to simply be cold. How would it feel, he wondered, to value another person’s happiness over his own? He couldn’t say, but he imagined it would never create the hot, tight sensation in his gut that he was currently experiencing.
But there was a method to his madness. He couldn’t afford to let Burney care for him any more than he could afford to care for Burney. Neither of them was free to do so, not in their current society and not while he was still forced to live under the thumb of a dragon with ice in her veins.
“She can’t live forever,” he muttered to himself before taking a sip of his wine. One day, she’d breathe her last and he’d finally get her claws out of him. One day.
Chapter Thirteen
T he ball was a glittering affair, as all of them tended to be. It was an unusual event for Winn in that he actually liked most of the people present. Most of the guests were gentry, those with lesser titles, but the turnout was good and there were any number of eligible young bachelors there to save him from Mrs. Burney’s schemes. Still, he wouldn’t say that he was enjoying himself. It had been just over a day since Burney’s blackmail attempt had gone awry, but since that time he’d been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. It was maddening and frustrating.
Winn moved to the refreshment table and retrieved a glass of champagne for himself. He sipped it slowly and carefully surveyed the room. Burney was there, careful to avoid making any eye contact with him at all. If Mrs. Burney and Amelia were