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had been Thorn’s father’s solicitor, and he even considered himself Thorn’s own solicitor, since he had looked over a document pertaining to one of the man’s investments a couple of months ago. “When?”
     
    “Tonight. Nothing extravagant. He sent an invitation a while back. Don’t believe I ever sent my regrets. We could attend, if you would like.”
     
    Arthur nodded and added a smile. A supper party with some family and acquaintances could be just the thing for Thorn, and it would not hurt Arthur to get out every once in a while. He began to wonder why Thorn had not mentioned the invitation before now, but a knock sounded on his door.
     
    Thorn stood and flicked his fingers toward the door. “I’ll unlock it. Fenton likely needs something or other. And I should be on my way. Will you be home by seven?”
     
    He nodded and made a mental note to inform Wilson he needed to depart by half past six tonight.
     
    “I’ll be by then to pick you up.” With that, Thorn turned from the desk.
     
    Arthur picked up his pen, forced his attention to the contract before him, and did his best to ignore the lingering scent of sex that seemed to hang in the air.

Chapter Three
     
     
     
    “Nothing extravagant?” he asked Thorn under his breath as they stepped through the double doors.
     
    “It will be months before the Season starts.”
     
    Arthur wasn’t quite certain how that explained the crowd before them. He had expected a nice meal consisting of a few courses with perhaps two dozen guests. There had to be over a hundred people in the ballroom, and it wasn’t even eight in the evening. He might not regularly attend such social affairs, but he knew a fair number usually did not arrive until later.
     
    “My uncle’s not one for the country,” Thorn added. “He likes to occasionally host parties for those who remain in London over the winter.” He stopped in his tracks and turned to face Arthur. Clad in strict black evening attire with an elaborate cravat framing his jaw, Thorn was so gorgeous it almost hurt to look at him. “I thought you wanted to attend.”
     
    “I do. Most assuredly.” Arthur smiled, hoping to alleviate the concern in Thorn’s gaze. If Thorn sensed Arthur’s unease, he would not put it past his lover to demand to leave. A rather counterproductive outcome to the whole purpose of the evening. “Just not what I expected. Your descriptive powers could use some assistance.”
     
    Thorn arched a dark eyebrow.
     
    “I take that back. They are more than adequate.”
     
    “I should hope so,” Thorn replied drily, though his gray eyes held a distinctly wicked spark. “Would you care to eat now or later? The supper room’s off to the left.”
     
    “We needn’t have supper now. We just arrived.” He looked over Thorn’s shoulder. “There’s a gentleman who appears to be coming to speak with you.”
     
    Thorn glanced to the man. “Ah, my uncle. Our evening’s host. I’ll introduce you. Not to worry, he’s quite pleasant.” He turned, extending a hand to a man who appeared to be well into his fifties. With a rounded belly and a stout build, the man bore no physical resemblance to Thorn save the same gray eyes. “Evening, Uncle.”
     
    “Good to see you, Leopold,” he replied with a hearty handshake. “I was pleased to receive your note today. Haven’t seen you about Town, though your father had assured me you were still among us.”
     
    “My father always speaks the truth. May I introduce my good friend, Mr. Arthur Barrington? Barrington, my uncle, Mr. John Dunmore.”
     
    They exchanged the usual acknowledgments. A tip of the head, a shake of the hand.
     
    “Your brothers graced me with their presence as well,” Mr. Dunmore said to Thorn. “David even asked after you.”
     
    “How kind of him.”
     
    Why did Thorn sound bored by the news? He should consider himself fortunate to have a family, never mind one who cared enough to inquire after