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been the second. Julian lost his mother and father at the same time, becoming both parents to two young girls. Brave couldn’t imagine the responsibility, but he knew that Julian had also been overcome by grief at Miranda’s death, blaming himself for not raising her as his parents would have wanted. Did he still carry that guilt?
    The silence was short-lived. Gabriel’s gaze went from Julian to Brave. “Not this again. If the two of you get maudlin on me, I’m leaving.”
    Brave flashed him a crooked smile. Gabe would leave, too. The toughest of the three of them, Gabe had been brought up by parents who cared more about parties than their son.
    He didn’t know all the details, nor did he want to, but Eloise Warren had been known for her promiscuity and Gabe’s father had been a notorious gambler. And then there had been Lilith. Brave didn’t know what had happened between Gabe and the girl he loved. He only knew that one day Gabe had wanted to marry her and the next he never spoke of her again. That had been the day Gabriel becamehard and cynical, caring only about his two school chums and little else.
    Julian raised his head, also smiling. “Maudlin? My dear friend, I get paid for being maudlin.”
    Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You get paid for making young ladies titter and fan themselves, Julian. It’s dem fortunate that you don’t need the money to live because that fool Murray doesn’t pay you half of what you’re worth. He doesn’t even buy your good work.”
    Brave and Julian exchanged glaces. Julian’s topaz gaze twinkled. It was an old argument. John Murray was Julian’s publisher, the very same who published Byron. Julian seemed very pleased with his arrangement with Murray. It was only Gabriel who believed he could do better.
    “I don’t need the money.” Julian took a drink of his brandy. “My poetry is a lark. Nothing more.”
    Gabriel shot him a dark look. “It could be more.”
    Brave smiled. That was Gabriel. He had to be the best at everything. There was no point to a venture if one didn’t want to be the best or make a success of it. For him, there was no such thing as doing something simply for the pleasure of having done it.
    Julian sighed and shook his head, sending a thick chunk of reddish brown hair over his brow. “I’m not having this discussion with you again, Gabe. Why don’t you tell Brave about the strange invitation you received.”
    Arching a brow in an expression of surprise, Brave turned to his friend. “An invitation? Surely it was a mistake. No hostess in her right mind would invite a critic like you anywhere.”
    Gabriel shrugged. “One doesn’t have to be a recluse to be sought after, my friend. Not even my scandalous mama keeps my name from the guest lists. In fact, this time I believe she might be the cause of it.”
    Brave was too intrigued to be bothered by his friend’s offensive remark. Besides, it was true, so what point would there be in being insulted?
    “So what kind of invitation was it?” He demanded when Gabriel offered no further information.
    The dark-haired man sipped his drink and smiled—it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been invited to an orgy.”
    Now that did surprise Brave. No one who knew Gabriel would ever dream of inviting him to such a thing. Anyone close to him knew that he was as far from promiscuous as a normal man could get.
    “An orgy.” Brave turned to Julian for verification.
    Julian nodded, barely hiding his mirth. “Is it not the most laughable thing you’ve ever heard?”
    “Obviously the host is not a close acquaintance.”
    Gabriel grimaced. “Not bloody likely.”
    “So where is this den of licentiousness anyway?” Brave asked, taking a drink. He’d almost forgotten about his brandy.
    Gabriel set his empty glass aside. “Viscount Charlton’s.”
    Brave’s gut clenched. “Charlton?” Did Sir Henry know the man he wanted his stepdaughter to marry held orgies in his home? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know