But Joachim could merely gawp, his wits chased away by the sheer physical beauty of his host facing him now. Within a half second, his hand was firmly pumped and grasped in long fingers that would be elegant if not for the bitten-down nails.

“I’m Ainsley Graham, but I reckon you know that, or you wouldn’t be here, would you?” The supernaturally good-looking man beamed as he continued to not only hold on to Joachim’s right hand, but to cover the knot of their palms with his other.

In the dim light, Joachim was unable to make out the color of the gentleman’s eyes, which traced down his body even more intimately than the butler’s had. Silky, overlong hair drooped artfully over his smooth brow and shone like sunlight through a goblet of claret. His wide smile curved higher on the right.

This expensively dressed ginger was simply the most magnificent creature Joachim had ever encountered in his life. Astonishing, since his brother Stuart often looked as though he’d rolled out of bed five minutes before hurrying to the university, with half his hair sticking up.

“I’m Joachim Cockburn, how do you do?” His mouth was as dry as the Mojave.

The infamous Dr. Graham’s gaze drifted down toward Joachim’s hips. “Cockburn?” His grin hinted at a leer. “One can only hope from the right reasons.”

Before Joachim could scowl, Ainsley Graham sauntered to an already open crystal decanter and poured two drams of whiskey. Or dram and a half, really. He pushed one into Joachim’s hand and set his own down untouched, gesturing for his guest to sit.

Relieved to get off his ankle, Joachim chose the corner of a sofa farthest from the fireplace and balanced his walking stick against the arm. Even with at least ten other options, his host sat so close on the same sofa that the spicy scent of his eau de cologne tickled Joachim’s nostrils and made him sneeze.

Queer. Yet, at a different time and place it would be more than welcome. Stuart’s brother, he reminded himself and took a longer drink than he ought. Running his finger under his collar, Joachim gasped from the whiskey’s sharp bite and set it down on a side table with a thud.

“I’m pleased that you got the telegram about my arrival. I worried that you’d wonder why a stranger showed up on your doorstep.” His laugh was forced but Ainsley Graham appeared not to have heard him. In fact, his focus was so intent on something behind Joachim’s head that he turned to look to see what it could be.

Graham shook his head once and raised his eyes back to Joachim’s. Gray, perhaps? Or blue? It was too dark to tell but they were light and wide and so thickly lashed it was a wonder he could even prop open his eyelids.