whistled. “Congratulations, then! Come—” he motioned to a waiter “—let’s have some champagne! Though I can hardly credit it—Willoughby was so sure she’d not go down for anyone.”
Evan jerked back the hand his friend was enthusiastically pumping. “Dammit, don’t you dare describe her in such terms.”
Shocked into immobility, Brent simply looked at him. “Sorry, Ev,” he said at last. “I meant no disrespect.”
Shocked himself by the depth of his outrage, Evan made himself smile and motioned Brent back to his chair. “I don’t want this to become common knowledge about London—not a hint of it. If you take my meaning?”
Brent straightened, looking mildly affronted. “I’m hardly one to go gossiping about my friends. As I thought you’d know.”
“Yes, yes, I do know. Just a reminder.”
“Mrs. Spenser worries for her reputation?” Brent guessed.
“No, I do. I don’t want some idle fool getting the wrong idea and bothering her.”
Brent stared at him searchingly, then shook his head. “The lady must have made quite an impression.”
Evan let his mind play over the images of Emily in all her guises, and of their own volition his lips curved into a smile. “She did indeed.”
The champagne arrived, and with a flourish, Brent presented him a flute. “To you,” he raised his glass, “the luckiest bastard in London.”
After they downed the wine, Evan put a restless hand to his pocket and frowned. “Blast, I seem to have left my watch. What o’clock is it?”
Brent squinted at the mantel clock across the room. “Near on five, best I can see. How about a few hands of piquet before you leave me for the divine Madame? Mayhap I can fleece you of enough blunt to assuage my jealousy.”
So strongly did the thought of Emily pull Evan, even the prospect of several hours spent over good wine in the company of his best friend didn’t appeal. He knew where he most wanted to be. So why not just go there?
“Another time, perhaps,” he replied, deciding on the spot. “I think I’ll stop by the shop and make sure the runner is still on duty.”
Brent grinned. “Righto, better check. Runners are such an inefficient lot.” He ducked Evan’s mock punch. “Give the widow my regards—you lucky bastard.”
Already halfway across the room, Evan only nodded.
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