Delinsky was looking out into the gardens of the Mallorys’ house with a preoccupied frown. Paul briefly debated whether to disturb him, but the opportunity to speak to someone who wouldn’t care about his newly elevated status was too appealing to resist.
“Good evening, sir.”
Constantine turned and half smiled. “Good evening, Lieutenant St. Clare. I didn’t realize you were here tonight. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Not particularly,” Paul said. “I find all these people crammed into one space vaguely repellant.”
Again, that slight smile that made Paul want to do whatever he was told. “I can understand why. As a soldier, I always fear an ambush myself.”
“Are you waiting for someone, sir?” Paul asked.
“No, I was just contemplating the coolness of the air outside, and deciding whether I wished to stay for supper or leave before the crush.” Delinsky’s contemplative gaze swept over Paul. “Did you come with Swanfield?”
“Alas, no, sir. Gabriel and his wife are currently up north taking possession of his ancestral home.”
Constantine raised his eyebrows. “Ah, that’s right, I’d forgotten Swanfield had married.”
“I’d like to forget it, but unfortunately the man is so damned content that I find I cannot begrudge him his happiness.”
“Even despite your loss?”
“My loss?” Paul straightened and stared straight into Delinsky’s all-too-knowing eyes.
Delinsky winced. “I beg your pardon, that was damned insensitive of me.”
“Not insensitive at all. What do you mean?”
Delinsky lowered his voice. “I always believed you and Swanfield were connected on an intimate level.”
Paul forced a smile. “There’s no need for delicacy, sir. Gabriel was happy to fuck me when there was no other alternative. He soon realized the error of his ways, or more to the point, I realized the error of mine.”
Delinsky continued to study him and Paul found he couldn’t look away. “Perhaps you had a lucky escape, St. Clare.”
“You think so?”
“Or perhaps the luck is all mine.”
A slow burn of excitement grew in Paul’s gut. “What exactly are you suggesting, sir?”
Constantine straightened. “Would you care to share a brandy with me at my lodgings? I find the party has grown quite tedious.”
Paul wanted to groan. “Unfortunately I accompanied my family to the ball. I feel honor bound to escort them home as well.”
“As you should.” Constantine shrugged, his smile dying. “It is of no matter.”
Paul glanced back at the ballroom and then at the man in front of him. Despite Delinsky’s easy acceptance of Paul’s reason for not leaving with him, Paul desperately wanted to consign his family to hell and follow this man anywhere. Gabriel was lost to him. He needed to move past that hurt and explore pastures new. And when it came down to it, he had always lusted after Constantine Delinsky.
“Perhaps you might furnish me with your address, sir, and I can join you after I’ve dispensed with my duties.”
“It really isn’t that important, St. Clare.”
“Perhaps it isn’t to you, but it is to me,” Paul said softly. “Give me your direction.”