Aaron shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Your father was ever kind.”
If total disinterest could be labeled kindness.
Then Jackson spoke up as he came back to the parlor laden down with cheese, bread, and a few old apples. “It doesn’t matter why he’s been gone, he’s back now, and we should celebrate.” He grinned at Lucas. “What did you have in mind?”
Trust Jackson to cut straight to what must happen now. The man always knew how to ignore the past, even when it was all everyone else could think about. “I need you to throw a masquerade.”
“Whatever for?” Aaron said, his face twisted into a grimace. “Fancy dress and ridiculous masks. It’s just an excuse for the worst sort of behavior.”
Jackson grinned. “A capital idea!”
“Nothing too flamboyant. I’ve rented out all of Vauxhall. That will make it an exclusive sort of thing.”
“Nothing at Vauxhall could ever be exclusive.”
He nodded. That was true enough, but that was what Diana wanted, and so that was what she would get. And he would make sure that security was tight enough that she was safe. “It’s set for Wednesday in three weeks.” Thank God the owner of Vauxhall played too deep one night, and Lucas had managed to win his exclusive night. Otherwise, he’d never have been able to manage it.
“That’s fast,” Jackson said. “You have to give the ladies enough time to get their costumes made.”
“It will be a party given by the Lords of the Masquerade.” He pointed at Aaron. “You’ll be Lord Ares.” Aaron had studied every war in detail, and so the name fit. “Lord Satyr for you,” he said to Jackson. The man was a dangerous flirt, and so he would embrace the moniker as if born to it.
“A masquerade just encourages all sorts of knavery,” Aaron said.
“I have men to keep the grounds safe.”
Aaron arched his brows. “Thieves are not the only danger. It’ll be a hunting ground for fortune hunters and reprobates.”
“You mean me,” Jackson said.
“No, I don’t,” Aaron snapped. “You have scruples. And some mysterious business plan…” He trailed off to give Jackson a chance to fill in the blank. Instead, the man put on a too-innocent expression.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Aaron snorted. “In any event, you won’t hurt a woman. But others will trap young ladies on the dark paths, ravish them quickly, and—”
“I will have security!” Lucas repeated with enough force to show his impatience with the whole discussion. “And once again, you fail to give any respect to the intelligence of the fairer sex. They are too smart to be so easily led astray.” At least that had been true of the vipers he saw in the ladies’ half of the Lyon’s Den. Every one of them was more likely to trap an unwary man than the other way around.
“You’re both right,” Jackson said in a grumbly voice. “There are plenty of female twits in society. And plenty of women with sense.
“Don’t invite the twits,” Lucas said. “Would that be acceptable to your high moral standard?”
Aaron gave a short nod, but he didn’t speak, as he was more interested in sawing off a piece of bread than objecting to a party.
“Then it’s settled?” Lucas asked. “Can you manage the invitations? I am working two jobs right now and haven’t managed a full night’s sleep in a week. Plus, I don’t know the best people to invite, though I do have a few names I’d like to put forward.”
“Two jobs?” Aaron said, his voice low.
Lucas blew out a breath. “I’m not ready to come out of hiding yet. I don’t want my family to know I’m alive.”
“Whyever not?” Jackson said as he drained his brandy glass. “By all accounts, your brother is a genius with the land. Your coffers are overflowing.”
He grunted. “They’re my father’s coffers made full by my brother’s sweat. What right do I have to those funds?”
“The right of progenitor,” Aaron said. “You’re the heir. It’s irresponsible of you to hide away like this. And cruel to Nathan.”
Lucas thought it might be crueler to come out of hiding. His brother was much better suited to bear the title than he was, and, as far as he could tell, every single one of his family was happier with him dead, himself included.
“You must reveal yourself,” Aaron said. “At least to your family.”
“No.”
“Lucas—”
“I’ll pay for everything,” Lucas interrupted. He had enough money saved up. “But I can’t host it. There would be too much attention on me. And I can’t put together the right guest list the way you can, Aaron. And I can’t make it popular among the right people the way Jackson can. And I certainly can’t get invitations written and sent while working night and day.” He blew out a breath. “I’ve taken a big risk coming to see you tonight. Please, for our old friendship, can you not find a way to help me?”
“Of course, we’ll help,” Jackson said.
“And I’ll pay my fair share,” Aaron snapped. “But that’s not the point.”
Lucas grabbed a hunk of cheese. “What is the point?” he asked before biting hard into the cheese.
“The point is I won’t help you hide from your family.”
Jackson snorted loudly. “He doesn’t need your help to hide. He needs it to get a lady.” Then he waggled his eyebrows at Lucas. “I’m right, aren’t I? Who’s the woman at the center of this?”
Lucas tore off some bread and matched the last of his cheese with it. After he’d eaten and swallowed, he spoke in a casual tone, though he doubted either man was fooled. “I should like you to invite Lady Dunnamore and her two sisters.”
Aaron refilled his brandy glass. “Lord Byrn’s sisters?”
“Yes.”
Jackson chuckled. “Does Elliott know you’re planning to seduce his married sister at a masquerade?”
Trust Jackson to sort out the truth. “I’m not going to seduce her!” he snapped. “I’m just going to give her a spot of fun.”
“Exactly what I said—”
“I need her to think kindly toward me. She’s in trouble, and I can’t protect her unless she ceases to fight me at every turn.” He lifted his head and pinned his friends with his heavy stare. “Will you help me?”
Jackson laughed. “Will I host a scandalous party that you pay for? I believe I can bestir myself to make such an effort.”
That, he already knew. But the party wouldn’t work unless it had the stamp of someone completely respectable, like Aaron.
The man took his time, but in the end, he nodded. “I will do it—”
“Excellent—”
“On the condition that you host as well.”
Lucas’s head jerked up. “What? I can’t host it.”
“Pick a name. Something sinister.”
Lucas groaned. “I’m called Lucifer at Diana’s house.”
“The devil you say,” joked Jackson. He’d always been good at puns.