Chapter 58
I drank steadily throughout the remainder of the holiday, but John never came to me and said, “You’re dipping too deep, Ashton. I want you to stop.” I doubted he even noticed my absence from the festivities. Certainly no one else did.
Finally I grew tired of waking each morning to cast up my accounts, with a headache and a vile taste in my mouth. I bathed and shaved, returned the remaining untouched bottle to the wine cellar, and vowed to treat John as if the incident on St Stephen’s Day had never occurred.
Now I started to get out of bed, and Geo gripped my wrist and peered into my eyes. For what was he searching? “Geo?”
“Pay me no heed. Don’t be long.”
“I’ll be back quicker than the cat can lick her ear.”
That made him smile. “Will you have a glass with me?”
“If you like.” I drew on my dressing gown and stepped into a pair of slippers, then went down to the study, placed the brandy and two snifters on a tray, and returned to my room.