“And how closely related to you is Cousin Beatrice?”Reynaud gave him a look. “Not that close.“Glad to hear it.” Vale dropped into a cushioned chair. “I hope she recovers fully so that you can then propose to her. Because I tell you now, matrimony truly is a blessed state, enjoyed by all men of good sense and halfway adequate bedroom skills.”“Thank you for that edifying thought,” Reynaud growled.Vale waved his glass. “Think nothing of it. I say, you haven’t forgotten how to treat a lady in the bedroom, have you?”“Oh, for God’s sake!”“You’ve been out of refined society for years and years now. I could give you some pointers, should you need them.”

“Do you think they’ll target her as wellas you? Surely if you simply stay away from the gel, she’ll be safe?”“But I don’t propose to stay away from her,” Reynaud said.“Ah.” Vale stared at him for a moment, and then a wide smile spread across his face.“Like that, is it?”“That,” Reynaud snarled, “is none of your business.”“Indeed?” Vale was grinning like an idiot now. “Well, well, well.”“What is that supposed to mean?”“I have no idea. I just like saying it. Well, well, well. Makes one sound uncommonlyinsightful.”

“Now, now," said Vale in a sickeningly sweet voice reminiscent of a nursery nanny. "I already gave him a drubbing for courting Emmie."Reynaud raised his eyebrows. "You did?""He did not," Hartley said even as Vale nodded happily. "I threw him down the stairs."Vale pursed his lips and looked skyward. "Not my recollection, but I can see how your memory of the event may've become hazy.”

“How do you always know just what to say?" I ask. His laugh rumbles through me. "Practice, I guess."I pull back and give him a quizzical look."I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging me close. "I should hope I know what to say now that I've got you.”

“See, Don, I have this question, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”He pulled at the end of his eyebrow. “I think you know you can count on my honesty.”“Can I?” I asked with an edge. “All right, then tell me: How long have you been fucking me?”That caused him to stop tugging his brow. “I don’t know what you’re saying—”“Because if I was going to fuck you,” I interrupted, “I’d get a bottle of gin, some Frank Sinatra music…and a crash cart for the heart attack you’d have. But you, Don, you’ve been fucking me for years now, and I haven’t gotten any liquor, music, flowers,candy, or anything!”

“You see how it is godlike to love the being of someone. Your existence is a delight to us. I hope you never have to long for a child as I did, but oh, what a splendid thing it has been that you came finally, and what a blessing to enjoy you now for almost seven years.”