The Corinthians Series: Rules of Masquerade

Chapter Two

 Dedicated to the much awesome Lizzy for being the first one to read this and telling me that it does not suck. Much. I love you bunny. :3 

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Chapter Two

“What do you mean missing?” William Hernshaw took the whiskey offered by Edwin. The man looked worn with dark shadow settling under his eyes, his cravat hung loose and his fine black shirt creased. His silver grey eyes were a shade of unpolished pewter. Worry hung in every inch of his face. It was a startling change from the Edwin he once knew from their days in Eton together.  

“Missing, gone, bloody vanished!” Edwin threw the content of the spirit down his throat in one huge gulp. William’s hold on his glass slackened. The glass was bloody near of slipping from his hand when he caught himself and seek refuge from the liquid fire as well.

Edwin’s little sister Charlotte was gone. Since he was back in London William had paid special attention to the rumor mill when Charlotte’s name was concerned. From what he had gathered, Lady Charlotte Blair Alistair was an impetuous, shrewd, vocal young woman and an incredibly spoiled debutant to boot. 

“How?” He croaked. William watched as Edwin took the decanter and refilled both of their glasses.

“By means of an opened window, a makeshift rope out of bed sheets and a willing accomplice.” Edwin massaged his temple. “My father is already half mad with worry.”

“An accomplice?”

“Her maid Fanny is devoted to Charlie to a fault.”

“But why? Is the prospect of wedding me that terrible?” 

At this Edwin actually smiled. “Not to you, man. It’s the prospect of wedding your dear old grandfather that drove her to flee. She drew the conclusion that it was old Sheffield who was asking for her hand. Damn, she won’t listen to any of us after the duke left the house. She barreled herself in her room and was wailing loud enough for the entire street to hear.”

“If anyone of us was to flee it should’ve been me.” William bit angrily. A week ago he was free to roam England, Scotland and Ireland as he pleased. Now he was not only forced to return to London but he was also about to be leg shackled to some girl who was a melodramatic little hellion.

“Is she always so… impetuous?” William refilled his glass yet again.

Edwin nodded. “Always. Charlie’s a little bit too spirited for her own good.”  William took to his drink again. If any of the rumors he heard of his fiancé were true, ‘a little spirited’ was putting it too lightly. Edwin swirled the content of his glass. “Everyone spoiled her too much. Perhaps I should not even be bothered to worry. I’m sure tomorrow she’ll be discovered at my Aunt Lydia’s townhouse, bonnet perched perfectly on her hair.”

A touch of smile took William’s lips and revealed his dimpled cheek. “But you worry nonetheless.”

“Little sisters will do that to you.” Edwin answered and raised his glass in a mock toast.

“And wives too I hear.” William muttered dryly, his heart lurched thinking that the same little brat-ling was his wife to be.

William was on his third glass when Kendall Alistair entered the room, shrugged off his long coat and poured himself a drink, oblivious that a twig was caught in his hair. The second son of the Earl of Markham, Kendall Alistair was only two years younger than himself. He too, like Edwin was blessed with dark good looks. His eyes were bluish grey, a trait all of the children of the earl possessed, inherited from the late Countess of Markham. His hair was black as ink.