Chapter 15: Warrick
1682 Words
Chapter 15: WarrickThe next morning I woke up hungover. “I’ve got to stop doing this to myself,” I groaned.
“I must say I agree with you.”
I started, then groaned again. “Who…?”
“It’s Fox.” He sounded amused rather than insulted that I’d forgotten I had company. “Here. Have a Prairie Oyster.”
It was the same remedy Bertie had prepared for Thomas and me the first time we’d sampled Sir Henry’s single malt. Thomas hadn’t liked the taste, but I’d enjoyed it and teased him into helping me polish off most of the bottle. And the only reason Bertie had given us the remedy was so he wouldn’t get in trouble, since he was supposed to be our guardian while their parents spent a few nights in Town.
“That’s fairly disgusting.”
“Yes, but it’s good for what ails you.”
“Sadist.” Raw egg, Worcestershire sauce, a couple of dashes of Tabasco sauce, and the question always remained—would it stay down or come right back up? I swallowed it, and that moment was no different than any other time. I closed my eyes and bit down on my back teeth.
“Feeling better?”
After a few moments, I could say, “As a matter of fact, I am. You must be a magician. I don’t remember this working so quickly before.”
“My old granny taught me the recipe.”
“I…I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”
The corner of Fox’s mouth curled up in a lopsided grin. “You didn’t have an opportunity to do much of anything. I’d no sooner got you in my bed, than you passed out.”
“I’m undone.” I covered my face with my hands. “I beg your pardon.”
“Would you be interested in making it up to me tonight?”
I didn’t answer immediately. “Your bedroom?” I looked around and realised this wasn’t my room.
“Yes. It seemed my place was closer than your flat. So…tonight?”
I nodded cautiously, then more vigorously when my head didn’t explode.
“Splendid. I’ve left breakfast for you on top of the cooker. Stay as long as you want.”
I groaned once more. “I have work. They’re going to wonder what’s become of me.”
“They won’t. I called to tell them I was your doctor and you weren’t feeling well. Everyone remembers how bad the Spanish Influenza was, so they were quite willing to believe me.”
“Thank you. But…how did you have their number?”
He blushed. “Oh, er…I asked the operator to connect us.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “How is it you’re aware of my company’s name?”
He blushed harder, which I thought was adorable. He distracted me by saying, “I’ve missed you, Rick. All these years.”
“But we knew each other such a short time.” It had been almost six years, and I realised I hadn’t been living, I’d just been going through the motions.
“That’s immaterial. I…uh…I knew your office was just down the road from the Skip for Gold.”
I blinked. “Is that where we met?”
“You did tie one on, didn’t you? Yes. I’ve seen you walk by every evening.”
“And you never approached me?”
He shrugged.
“Would you have dinner with me?”
“When?”
“This evening?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow evening?”
His brow furrowed. “Did you change your mind about tonight?”
“No.” I smiled at him, feeling very well. Feeling, in fact, randy enough to take him to bed that instant. However, he was dressed in a neat brown suit, apparently ready to face the day.
Fox’s amber eyes glowed. “Both evenings?”
“Yes.”
“I’d love to.”
“Excellent. I’ll come pick you up about seven.”
Fox leaned down and brushed his lips over mine. “You’ve got a date, Lieutenant.” He winked, gathered up his black bag, and left his flat.
I plumped the pillows behind me, stacked my hand behind my head, and gave this situation some thought. Fox was kind and considerate. In addition, he prepared an excellent Prairie Oyster.
I needed someone in my life, in my bed. It might as well be Fox. I’d wait a bit, and if things developed between us, I’d ask him to move in with me.
He could certainly prove to be—I couldn’t help chuckling—what the doctor ordered.
* * * *
No one took any note that two former soldiers roomed together. During the day Fox went his way and I went mine. And there was no one to see what went on during the night.
I noticed occasionally that Fox would be missing from our bed, but I concluded he’d been out on a house call.
I did worry how Mother would treat Fox, simply because she had never warmed to Thomas, but the fact that he was a doctor eased his path. Both Mother and Grandmother would corner him whenever we arrived for holiday dinners and would question him about various aches and pains.
And Fox…sweet man that he was…good-naturedly answered them all.
Grandmother had invited us to come celebrate her birthday, and Fox and I arrived with flowers, chocolates, and bottles of wine, as well as a pair of Royal Worcester porcelain figurines of Grecian water carriers. Fox offered the box containing the figurines to Grandmother and the wine and chocolates to Grandfather.
Grandmother was pleased with the figurines and immediately put them on the mantel in the parlour.
“Very nice choice,” Mother said as she kissed my cheek—she’d become more accepting of me, perhaps because now she was with a man who loved her and not some ghost from the past—and handed me an envelope in exchange for the flowers I gave her. The envelope was addressed to me. I recognised John’s handwriting.
“Why in God’s name did he send it here?” I asked.
“Language, please, Warrick.” Grandmother frowned at me.
“Sorry, ma’am. But seriously. I don’t understand—”
“When was the last time you wrote to your brother?” Fox asked.
I stared blankly at him, and he nodded as if he wasn’t surprised. How had he got to know the ins and outs of my family relationships?
“Really, Warrick, you’ve become as bad as your father.” Mother sighed.
She might have a point, I supposed. One grew weary of not having one’s correspondence answered.
I opened the envelope, took out a sheet of paper, and then shook my head. “I don’t understand how a letter from Africa could arrive here in good time, and yet this one from England took almost half a year.”
“Who’s writing to you from Africa?” Mother asked coolly. I met her gaze but didn’t respond to her question. Her lips tightened, and she looked away.
I began to read John’s letter. After a few lines, I paused. “This can’t be correct.”
“What is it?” Fox asked me.
“According to John, something’s happened at Thorny Walk House, and as a result, it’s become severely damaged.”
“That house is over six hundred years old,” Mother exclaimed. “As unattractive as it is, it was very well-built.”
“Nevertheless, the entire east wing has collapsed.”
Mother pressed a hand to her bosom and sank into the two-seater sofa. “That contained the family’s living quarters.”
“Yes.”
“Were there any casualties?” Fox asked.
“One moment.” I resumed reading.
Oh my dear God. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m afraid there were. Oh, Father and John were both in Town at the time, so they’re fine.” I began reading aloud. “Father agreed to let Thorny Walk House to an Egyptian gentleman, one Ammon Runihura, a representative of the Egyptian Department of Antiquities. No one knows exactly what happened, only that after a series of explosions, Thomas Smythe and a friend of his were seen riding away from the devastation. Major Vaughan, who’s detective chief inspector now, questioned them. He informed me they weren’t able to shed much light on the situation.”
“Paul Vaughan?” Mother tapped her lower lip with her forefinger. “Weren’t you friends with him?”
“Hardly.” He’d tended to be a conceited bully who enjoyed nothing more than picking on the younger boys at Eton. He’d also tended to lurk about, spying on me.
“Do we know any of the…the casualties?”
“No. They consisted of the Egyptian and his servants. Odd. It seems all his servants are either dead or missing.”
“Foreigners.” Mother fussed with the collar of her dress. “I imagine they ran away.”
“Does your father want you to return to England to oversee the repairs?” Fox asked.
I finished reading the letter, then shook my head. “John doesn’t say anything about it.”
“Do you…do you plan to return anyway?”
“No.” I gave him a curious glance. “Are you trying to be rid of me?”
“No. I…No.”
“Excellent. Because I have no intention of leaving.”
“Dinner is served, Madam.” Grandmother’s butler stood in the doorway.
“Very good, Peabody.” She took Grandfather’s arm and led the way to the dining room. Aubrey held out his arm to Mother, which left me and Fox.
“So you’re staying,” he murmured, and I grinned at him.
“It appears that way, doesn’t it?”
We went in to dinner, and I spent the rest of the evening teasing him with sly glances and not-quite-innocent touches.
- Writer
