Page 45 of The Forsaken

“I don’t want your thanks.” And for good reason.

They were best chums. But if Culross knew Kerr dragged Andromena on his lap and mated his mouth against hers like she was a common strumpet, their shipping partnership—and likely one of their lives—would end that night. The lady did not need a chaperone; she needed a guard with a heavy club to keep her out of trouble.

He stilled. Wait a moment…

She’d been alone again. Same as before in the Rookeries and on the way to Hartwell’s wedding, Andromena had neither a maid, a strapping footman, a non-strapping footman, a sailor, a brother, a cous—

“You deserve my gratitude,” the earl was saying.

Kerr sensed a trap under those casual words. Kerr was so confident, he almost quit the table and placed a wager in the White’s Betting Book.

“What do you want now?”

Hadn’t it been enough he’d abducted the bloody fellow’s youngest sister-in-law?

But apparently it was not because Culross proceeded to enlighten Kerr with what he needed this time. Lady Culross’s dim-witted uncle, the Earl of Abington, collector of gibbity-whats-its and peculiarities but misplacer-of-daughters and nieces, had—or had not, it was really rather difficult to say at this point—with the meandering the once articulate fellow was doing, lost some of his gew-gaws.

“And so, I was hoping you’d be open to meeting with Abington. Hear what he has to say—.”

“Abington?” said Kerr.

Culross nodded.

“As in the same man who believes that fraud, George Psalmanazar’s tale of cannibalization on the Island of Formosa?”

“The very same,” the younger Archdale confirmed.

Culross glared.

Hastily averting his eyes, Archdale topped his personal glass off.

Culross recalled Kerr’s attention. “It’s unlikely there’s any sinister plot against Abington, and he’s merely misplaced some of his pieces—”

Kerr cursed. “King George could haul Abington’s Elgin Marbles out in front of him, and the earl wouldn’t know they were gone.”

Archdale and Greyhold laughed. Even Culross grinned.

When the earl finished, Kerr was certain his longtime friend and second brother was joking. Except, this time Kerr laughed, and Culross, Archdale, and Greyhold drank in silence. Alas, the glasses weren’t bottomless.

“You are actually serious,” Kerr said flatly.

“Very much so.”

Culross couldn’t tear himself from his wife’s side, bed, or wherever the hell he kept her these days.

He looked at Archdale.

The younger man held his palms up. “I sail within the week.”

“That’s a new sailing added to the line,” said Kerr. “Convenient.”

Guilty color splotched young Archdale’s cheeks.

Kerr contemplated his brother, decided he couldn’t inflict maximum pain upon him, and then settled his fury on Culross.

“I’ve gone to battle with you, for you. I’ve helped quell a mutiny on your ship. Taken a blade for you, and I can say with absolute certainty, any one of those acts would be preferable to what you’re asking.”

“I know,” Culross said. “Just as I know you won’t decline.”