Freddie tried to look pained—not a difficult proposition considering Charlotte’s regrettable nationality. “Yes. Bit of jolt there, I know, but the power of love and all that.”
Selbourne’s other brow rose. “Love?”
Freddie swallowed more of the gin. This was going to be dashed harder than he thought. Selbourne gave no indication of being convinced. In fact, he looked as though he were waiting for the final jest.
“Yes, Selbourne, love. How we mighty have fallen, eh?” He lifted the glass to his lips again, belatedly noticing that he’d already drained the gin. He continued dry-mouthed. “Met her, fell instantly, madly in love, and married her by special license. Whirlwind romance and all of that fluff—uh . . . fortuitous circumstances.”
Alex seemed to ponder this last for a moment, and Freddie dared hope his friend might finally be convinced. “A redhead?” Alex asked.
“The chit does happen to be ginger-pated. How did you know?”
“You can’t resist redheads.”
Freddie sat back dramatically. “Alas, I fear ’tis true. And the color is so dreadfully unfashionable!”
“Right. Keep it up and Brummell will revoke your membership in the Fops and Dandy’s Club.”
“There’s a club?” Freddie asked in mock seriousness.
“What game are you playing?” Alex asked, leaning forward and speaking in a lowered voice. “You cannot possibly expect me to believe you met and married an American, brought her home to London, and are sitting here with me now while she settles into your town house. I fail to see the humor in this joke.”
“Because it’s not amusing,” Freddie grumbled.
“Wait a moment. Is this woman why Pettigru slipped through your fingers?”
“Pettigru hasn’t—” Freddie clenched his jaw, and Alex wordlessly reached for his glass and refilled it. “Thank you,” Freddie managed before downing a healthy portion. “I don’t need to tell you that this must remain in strictest confidence.”
Alex waved a hand, indicating that was a given.
“Charlotte is Charlotte Burton. Her family in Charles Town was on intimate terms with Cade Pettigru.”
Alex stilled. It wasn’t an overt gesture, more of a sense of total calm and concentration that swept over his features. “And she has agreed to aid in that gentleman’s apprehension?” Though it was highly unlikely they would be overheard, Alex was careful not to repeat Pettigru’s name.
Freddie turned that question over in his mind. “She has not so much agreed as given in to pressure and greed.” Alex shook his head, and Freddie said, “We’ve offered her one thousand pounds and the freedom to return to America if she plays the role of my wife and lures our friend from hiding.”
“Dangerous proposition.” Alex cocked a brow. “You’ll have to bring her out in public if you want to set a trap. It could mean your social annihilation.”
“I know,” Freddie said, feeling a bead of sweat run down his back. “I know. If I’m to minimize the damage, she’ll have to improve her manners. We continue our etiquette lessons tomorrow. Pray she’s a fast learner.”
“How does the role of tutor suit you?”
Freddie sat back. “Not a’tall, I’m afraid. Either the chit has a brick for a brain or I’m not a very gifted instructor.”
“You?” Alex said with what looked suspiciously like a grin. “Say it isn’t so.”
“Ridiculous notion, I know, but the girl actually accused me of lacking patience.”
“No.” Alex shook his head.
“Exactly. Me lack patience? Was I not the picture of fortitude when Wilkins got it in his head to valet for Alvanley last year? Was I not the soul of tolerance when Lady Helmsley lured me to her bed and then insisted I not only—ah, entertain her but Lady Wrothgar as well?”
“Yes, that must have been terribly trying for you.”
“And now to be called impatient by an upstart colonist, too ignorant to know the most fundamental tenets of proper etiquette!”
“Not to be borne,” Selbourne said and lifted his gin in a toast.
Freddie frowned. “Why do I have the feeling you are secretly enjoying my troubles?”
