Chapter 110

Two hours had passed by the time Charles had drunk himself beneath a card table.

"Looks like you need a hand, Lonsdale." James Fordyce, the Earl of Pembroke reached under the table and offered a hand to him. Charles gripped the hand and allowed himself to be hauled up on his feet. His vision cart-wheeled and he blinked rapidly, trying to get a steady fix on the man's face.

"Ready to go home, Lonsdale?" Pembroke asked.

"Suppose I ought to. Bloody hell, what a night."

Pembroke slid one arm around Charles's waist, supporting him outside to hail a hackney to get him home. Linley emerged from the shadows of a nearby mew and joined Pembroke in supporting Charles by ducking under Charles's left arm.

"There you are, lad," Charles greeted the boy.

Linley's disapproving scowl cut across him as the boy spoke to Pembroke. "How deep into his cups did he get tonight?"

Charles's friend laughed. "Enough to swim to France, I imagine, but he'll be fine on the morrow."