From the way the young man had slurred his words, Neville suspected the group hadn’t come directly from the Hall but had made a stop or two—he caught the scent of gin in the air—orten.
No one reacted so strongly to the tepid drinks served at Almack’s. They must have been at the blue ruin.Hard.
“Just as I predicted—”
Willard, judged by sound at least, was completely sober.Typical.
“—we’ve been joined by theton’smost tediously dull earl.”
The group parted, revealing Willard. He leaned, knee bent, against the lamppost, wearing that same infuriating, enigmatic half-smile he donned whenever he was up to mischief.
Meaning any time he wasn’t fully occupied with cold vengeance.
“Boys, me boys, Come out to play…” Willard repeated.
“Still haven’t learned the proper words, have you?” Neville asked cooly.
“Preston here agrees with you.” Willard gestured to one of his cronies. “Says that’s not how the rhyme is supposed to go. Now that I consider, I think he may be right. It’s boysandgirls, is it not? One must never forget the girls. What say you,Nev?”
“I say, ‘Come with a good will or not at all,’” Neville gritted out a later verse.
“That’s it,” said the man Willard had indicated as Preston. “That’sthe next line—Come with a whoop, come with a call, Come with a good will or not at all!” He beamed at Neville. “I say! Good of you to tell us. We were having a devil of a time. Will here told us to just keep chanting and the rest would come back.”
“Willard.” Willard’s lip curled in a subtle fashion. “LordWillard, to you, you sloppy disgrace.”
Neville wasn’t surprised he’d lashed out. Willard had always been driven to disgust by any sign from another man that he might think themselves equal to him.
And by anything that reminded him of the poorer classes.
And by the sight of anything he deemed ugly or unkempt.
“Onlyyouforgot the words,” Willard continued, curling his fists. “I never admitted as much.”
Several of the young men distanced themselves from Preston.
“But—” Preston started.
“Quiet!” Willard interrupted.
The pup looked confused. Confused and hurt. Like he’d been kicked by a usually benevolent master. Only Willard hadn’t a single benevolent bone in his entire elegant body. And, like Willard’s father, Lord Eltenham, Willard was not the type ofman to let any obvious slight go unanswered, even when he was in the wrong.
Especially when he was in the wrong.
“Go home, Preston!” someone in the group called out.
The young men began stomping their feet—a sign of agreement.
“Keep it down!” Willard snapped. “We wouldn’t want to rouse the watch.” He fixed Neville with a speaking gaze. “Or disturb the illustrious, or should I sayalluring, residents of this street. One in particular…”
Heart in his throat, Neville followed Willard’s gaze down the row to D’Acre House.
“I wonder which one of the rooms she occupies,” Willard mused.
“What’s he on about?” one pack dog whispered to another.
“Haven’t the foggiest,” the other answered in an exaggerated whisper.
“What do you want, Willard?” Neville demanded.