A Gentleman Never Tells(21)
Iverson placed his forearms on top of the chair back and looked directly at Brent with his dark blue eyes. “From what we’re hearing, you are the one creating fanfare.”
“Me?” Brent said, pulling his shirt out from under Matson’s boot. He threw a disgruntled glance toward Iverson and then pulled the shirt over his head. “You are the one causing a stir by leaving your mark on that coxcomb Lord Waldo Rockcliffe as if you thought it would go unnoticed.”
Iverson shrugged. “I’ve not heard of him telling anyone what happened to him, have you, Matson?”
“Not a word,” his twin answered.
Brent knew Iverson had a cocksure way about him that intimidated most men, and he seldom had to resort to fisticuffs to settle anything. Lord Waldo must have been blind not to have known he was pushing Iverson too far.
“Did you happen to think that might be because he doesn’t have to tell anyone? Most people are smart enough to know it was either you or Matson who blessed him with the black eye, because all he’s been talking about for the past week is how much you two resemble Sir Randolph. Now he’s quiet as a church mouse on Sunday morning. Of course, I know you both too well to think it was Matson who left his mark on the poor bloke.”
“Really?” Matson smiled. “I’m pained to know you don’t think I did it. But has it ever once entered that thick brain of yours that it’s quite possible some Londoners might think you were the vile creature that was crass enough, or perhaps I should say you were the one courageous enough, to knock a duke’s youngest brother on his arse?”
“That might be especially believable now that we see you are also sporting a fat lip and a nasty scratch of your own,” Iverson added.
Matson chuckled. “Yes, no doubt you met with someone who didn’t like what you had to say, much like Lord Waldo did.”
“Are you two through?” Brent grumbled as he swiped his neckcloth off the edge of the bed and slung the long strip around his neck. He walked over to the tall bureau where his shaving mirror sat and started the process of tying the blasted thing.
“Not quite, big Brother, tell us what happened.”
Iverson laughed and said, “But then again, maybe he doesn’t want to tell us what happened.”
“Just as well, because that wasn’t the fanfare we were talking about anyway, was it?”
“No, but I still want to know how he got that nasty cut on his lip and shiner under his eye.”
Brent tuned out his brothers as he struggled with his neckcloth. He’d never learned how to do a decent job of tying a perfect bow. No matter how hard he tried, his neckcloth always came out looking like he hurried through it. He wasn’t in a mood to make the bow look respectable today, and wouldn’t except for the fact that he had to see the Duke of Windergreen, and for some reason, felt he needed to look his best.
“So, are you going to tell us, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” Iverson asked.
He watched his brothers behind him in the mirror. “I don’t know what fanfare you two are talking about, but I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I plan to ask Sir Randolph Gibson to meet with me.”
His brothers’ banter ceased, and they looked at each other and then back to him. “No, we hadn’t heard that,” Matson said.
Iverson’s eyes narrowed, and his lips set in a grim line before he said, “Our resemblance to Sir Randolph has nothing to do with you, Brent. Stay out of it.”
Brent had to quell his instinct to give Iverson and Matson orders and expect to be obeyed as he had when they were boys. “Of course it has something to do with me. You’re my brothers. I simply want to know where the man stands concerning this.”
“He stands where he’s always stood,” Iverson said. “We don’t expect our coming to London to change him or his behavior, and we sure as hell won’t let him change us or what we plan to do.”
Matson added, “As far as we can tell, he’s never said a word about us, and as long as he stays quiet and doesn’t bother us, we won’t bother him.”
“If he starts talking,” Iverson added, “I’ll pay him a visit.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Matson said, and then in an unusual tone of warning, added, “and it’s not necessary for you to meet with him, Brent. If it comes to the point that something needs to be done, we will do it. Now, let’s talk about something other than Sir Randolph.”