Velvet Read Free Page A

had time for life’s niceties,” Miles agreed with a tranquil smile. “How’s young Jake?”
    At this reference to his small son, Nathaniel’s frown deepened. “Well enough, according to his governess.”
    “And according to Jake … ?” Miles prompted.
    “For heaven’s sake, Miles, the lad’s six years old; I’m not about to consult him. He’s far too young to have an opinion on anything.” Nathaniel shrugged and said dismissively, “From all reports, he appears obedient enough, so it’s to be presumed he’s happy enough.”
    “Yes, I suppose so.” Miles didn’t sound too convinced, but he knew which of his friend’s tender spots were better left without exacerbation. If the child didn’t bear such an uncanny resemblance to his mother, maybe it would be different.
    He changed the subject. “So what inducements bring you to Vanbrugh Court? Country houseparties aren’t your usual style of entertainment.”
    Nathaniel shrugged with an appearance of nonchalance. Not even Miles knew how Nathaniel Praedserved his country. “Quite frankly, now that I’m here, I don’t know. Simon was at his most pressing and just wore me down. Agreeing seemed the only way to achieve peace. He seemed to think it would amuse me. You know what he’s like.” Nathaniel shook his head in mingled exasperation and resignation. “He’s never taken no for an answer, not even at Harrow.” He glared around the room. “You’d think in the circumstances, he’d manage to be here himself.”
    “He does have a fairly lofty position in Portland’s ministry,” Miles pointed out mildly. “Anyway, he’ll be here tomorrow.”
    “And in the meantime we have to endure this tedium with an appearance of good grace.”
    Miles chuckled. “You’re an ill-tempered bastard, Nathaniel. The most thoroughgoing misanthropist.” He glanced around the room. “I wonder where Gabrielle’s disappeared to.”
    “Mmmm,” responded Lord Praed, taking snuff.
    Miles cast his friend a sharp look. For some reason the indifferent mumble didn’t ring true. Nathaniel hadn’t always been a misanthropist. It had taken Helen’s death to turn him into this introspective, chilly character who seemed to delight in rebuffing all friendly overtures. Most of his friends had given up by now; only Miles and Simon persevered, partly because they’d known Nathaniel since boyhood and knew what a stout and unstinting friend he was when a man needed a friend, and partly because they both knew that despite his attitude, Nathaniel needed and relied on their loyalty and friendship, that without it he would retreat from the world completely and be utterly irreclaimable.
    A man couldn’t grieve forever, and the old Nathaniel would one day inhabit his skin again. Perhaps this concealed interest in Gabrielle de Beaucaire was a hopeful sign.
    “I expect she decided to have an early night,” he commented. “Be fresh for the hunt tomorrow.”
    “Somehow, I doubt that. The countess didn’t strike me as a woman in need of much sleep in any circumstances.” Nathaniel’s tone was disapproving; but then, he made a habit of disapproval, Miles reflected.
    Nathaniel went up to his own room shortly after, leaving the sounds of merriment behind. He had some work to do, and reading reports struck him as an infinitely more rewarding way of spending the shank of the evening.
    Around midnight the house fell silent. House-parties kept early hours, particularly with a hunt on the morrow. Nathaniel yawned and put aside the report from the agent at the court of Czar Alexander. The czar had appointed a new commander in chief of his army. It remained to be seen whether Bennigsen would do better than the enfeebled Kamensky when it came to engaging Napoleon’s troops in Eastern Prussia. Ostensibly the czar was fulfilling his promise to support Prussia against Napoleon, but Nathaniel’s agent reported the vigorous opposition of the czar’s mother to a policy that could sacrifice