Free Three Heroes by Jo Beverley Page A

and we'll have more time to catch up. Have you seen Con yet?”]]>
    "I'm fresh off the boat. Heard about your engagement and set off—"
    "—to save me, like George and the dragon? I don't think poor Maria should be seen as a dragon."
    Hawk grinned. "And you're no trembling maiden. As for tomorrow, perhaps you'd better come to me. I'm staying at Beadle's Hotel in Prince's Street.”]]>
    Clearly the disagreement between Hawk and Maria had been unpleasantly sharp. "Very well.
    Have you heard from Con at all?"
    "No. Haven't you?"
    "No."
    "Have you tried?"
    Van shrugged. "I didn't want to clutter his life with my problems. Since Waterloo, since Lord Darius died, he has enough."
    "Perhaps your clutter would have been a distraction.” It was a reproof, and perhaps warranted, but Van said, "He'd have felt obliged to lend me money, and his family's never been wealthy.”]]>
    "What about the earldom?"
    "I still wouldn't want to dun off him. Forget it. Perhaps you should have come home sooner instead of playing around Europe."
    "Playing around—?" Hawk sucked in a breath.
    Van knew he should apologize. Hawk had been cleaning up the bloody mess left by the battle, by mounds of corpses, by destroyed property, by allies turned to arguing among themselves over responsibility and reparation and even what to call the battle.
    The apology stuck, though, and after a moment Hawk said, "Come over and we'll talk tomorrow." He strode off, never looking back.
    Van leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, the sweet image of a pistol floating in front of him.
    He'd trained himself into a demon of destruction. Perhaps there came a point of no return.
    He'd thought some things endured, particularly his lifelong friendships with Hawk and Con. But if Con needed his friends, he'd not found one in him, and now he'd lashed out at Hawk.
    Perhaps there was no going back. He could reroof Steynings and bring the land into good heart again, but he doubted he could recreate past happiness in a house empty except for ghosts.
    He might be able to do it with Maria's help.
    He couldn't tell if this feeling was love, frustrated lust, or an insane kind of dependency, but he realized that his bleak mood, his bitterness, his attack on Hawk all grew out of the rapidly approaching end of his service to Maria.
    And she insisted that he not touch her in any intimate way.
    He knew what he ought to do. He ought to prepare to bid her a courteous farewell, leave to restore his home, then pick a young lady like Miss Embleborough to marry and have children with.
    He'd rather shoot himself.
    Maria entered her house on Vandeimen's arm as usual, and as usual they all took a light supper and chatted. She thought he looked strained, and hoped desperately that he hadn't fought with his friend over her. She silently berated herself for letting Major Hawkinville goad her, though how else she could have reacted, she didn't know.
    Perhaps she should write an apology, though she'd done nothing wrong. It galled her that he, too, saw her as an aging harpy prepared to suck the blood from a younger man. Did everyone? Sarah Yeovil hadn't spoken more than the briefest word to her since that medieval affair.
    And in a couple of weeks it would all be over.
    If she were a weaker woman, she'd sink into tears.
    Persistent Harriette was using Major Hawkinville's appearance as a lever to open up discussion of Vandeimen's friends and his home. He looked strained, but he was still in the room and talking, though saying little to the point.
    She found herself watching him through a prism of his friend's eyes. Major Hawkinville hadn't seen Vandeimen for nearly a year, she assumed, and he had been disturbed. That was why he had attacked her.
    She remembered the incident before dinner, and Harriette's words. A glossy shell with nothing inside.
    That was not true. There was a lot inside, all of it tangled, dark, and dangerous. And now, for some reason, he was pushed to a brink.
    When they separated to go