Just a Little Madness (The Brotherhood #7) - Merry Farmer Page 0,3
going on. He glanced over his shoulder at the young man, who had pulled up the collar of his coat and was rushing away. “Er, my name isn’t Charlie,” he finished.
“I know,” Piper whispered, urging Edward to pick up his pace as well. He glanced around anxiously before letting go of Edward’s arm and rubbing his mittened hands together. “You’re Edward Archibald, MP. And that bloke was Jerry Rivers, one of the very worst blackmailers you’d ever want to come across.”
Edward’s nerves frazzled so quickly and so hard that he missed a step. “Good God,” he hissed, pausing to lean against a lamppost for a moment so his legs didn’t give out from under him entirely. “Thank you,” he panted. “You’re an uncommonly clever fellow.” If he’d been caught cruising in Covent Garden…the scandal that would hit the papers by morning…his reputation, livelihood, and life ruined…. He didn’t even want to think about it.
Piper seemed inordinately pleased with Edward’s off-hand compliment. “Of course, I know I’m clever. Few others tend to see it that way.”
“Well, you are,” Edward said. “I will forever be in your debt.”
“It wasn’t solely my doing. Patrick spotted you at the theater door, saw Rivers hook you, and sent me after you before you could do yourself a harm,” Piper explained. When Edward dared to look the man in the eyes, Piper’s face brightened into a charming smile, and he held out his hand. “Hello. Martin Piper.”
The tightness in Edward’s groin flared to life again at the kindness in Piper’s eyes and the genuine happiness in his smile. He straightened and took the man’s hand. “Edward Archibald,” he returned the greeting.
“But I already knew that,” Piper finished as though that was what he was about to say. “Come on. Let’s get you home, safe and sound.” He thumped Edward’s shoulder once they were finished shaking hands and steered him toward the main road. “Where do you live?”
Edward blinked and shook his head slightly, unable to believe that the Martin Piper was walking him home after rescuing him from disaster. “Er, just on the other side of Birdcage Walk, off of St. James’s Park.”
“Ooh, fancy.” Piper’s eyes lit up even more. “Close to the halls of Westminster, I see.”
“Yes, something like that.” In fact, Edward had taken a small flat there in a fit of wickedness, as St. James’s Park was one of the most fruitful and notorious cruising grounds for men like them. Whenever he couldn’t stand denying his urges for a moment longer, there was always a likely fellow to be found in the park after dark.
That thought was as embarrassing as it was immoral, and heat flooded Edward’s face and neck as they walked on.
“Did you enjoy the show tonight?” Piper asked as though they were strolling through Hyde Park in the middle of summer. “I assume you saw it, since you were at the stage door.”
“I loved it. I’ve seen it six times now,” Edward blurted before he thought better and stopped himself.
Piper’s handsome face lit with delight. “You have? How lovely.”
“I have always enjoyed the theater,” Edward went on, feeling stilted and utterly incapable of the conversation he was supposed to have with a famous—or soon to be famous—actor.
“So have I,” Piper said with a teasing wink. “That’s why I made my home there. Though the roll in Love’s Last Lesson is my first major part. Niall—that is, Niall Cristofori—is a personal friend of mine, and he took a chance on me. Up until now, I’ve mostly worked behind the scenes, stage managing, running props, working in the fly space. I’ve always wanted to be on stage, though. And I must confess, I love it. Especially this comedic part. And Everett is such an excellent foil to play off of. A man couldn’t ask for a better introduction to the London stage. And I’m boring you by talking your ears off now, aren’t I?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Edward insisted, his pulse racing, a strange, giddy feeling of joy filling him just by being near Piper. “I love hearing you talk. You’re more of a draw than Jewel.”
He snapped his mouth shut with a wince. Piper would probably think him the worst sort of boob for slavering all over him. But Piper was devilishly attractive, with soft brown hair and kind hazel eyes. He was an actor, after all, and actors had a certain reputation. Perhaps he would be game to come up to Edward’s flat for a drink once they—