Chapter 12
“Good God, old boy.” Drake arched a brow and sprawled in his chair, requisite glass of brandy in hand. “You really do have a list.”
Rob scowled at Drake, the parchment scrawled with names grasped firmly in his hand. “And thank God for it.”
Drake’s lips twisted in a smirk. “You and I have very different ideas about what we should be thanking God for.”
“Perhaps.” Rob strode further into their sanctuary at the top of Number 79. “But you’re as wealthy as Croesus.”
“Money is marvelous,” Drake agreed easily, hooking a knee over the chair arm. “But it doesn’t solve problems or melancholia.”
Rob snorted at this sop.
“Come now, Rob.” Drake stared at him with surprisingly unyielding icy, eyes. “Admit it. Some of the most miserable people are rich.”
Rob turned away, rankling. “True. But it’s hard to be happy in a gutter.”
Drake was silent for a moment then inquired, “Are you suggesting you’re about to be thrown in a gutter?”
“No,” Rob admitted, feeling uncomfortably on edge. He had not slept since that encounter with Harry. My God, she’d shocked him. Shocked him to his very depths. And not just by her accusation but in the way he wanted her. Wanted her so much he felt scorched by it and willing to risk everything to have her. “I have not fallen so far and I still have prospects.”
“Indeed,” Drake said merrily. “You’re a very handsome fellow and I hear you play the harp to perfection.”
He shot his friend a ball-crushing stare.
“Badly done of me,” Drake admitted. “But you do look so terribly at a loss.”
Rob leaned against the fireplace mantel and shrugged. “I never thought to marry for money.”
“Come now. Let’s see the list.” Drake held out his hand with all too much eagerness. “Perhaps the love of your life is upon it.”
“Careful now,” Rob replied, gritting his teeth. “I’d hate to have to call you out.”
“I’d hate for one of us to die. And by one of us, I mean you.” Drake sat up straight. “Now, hand it over.”
Rob extended the folded, crisp, cream-colored parchment that he had not yet dared open. He’d planned on getting three sheets to the wind and then picking a name at random. Perhaps he still would.
As he headed for the grog tray beside the billiards table, he eyed Drake carefully, trying to read his reaction to the list.
Suddenly, the other duke’s lips curled in that dangerous smile of his. “This is too rich, old man. Too rich by far.”
“Dare I ask?” Rob asked, his innards as tight as a man about to be run through.
“Oh, I think you do,” Drake drawled.
“Who then?” Rob forced himself to ask.
There was a long, delighted pause. “Harley’s sister?”
“What?” he sputtered as brandy suddenly sprayed from his lips.
Drake tapped the page. “Lady Harriet Cornwall.”
“My mother must be mad,” Rob said, splashing more brandy into his snifter. He was going to need it if that was the first name on the list.
Drake frowned. “I’ve always quite liked your mother and, aside from marrying your father, I’ve always rather admired her reason.”
“Well, she can’t be in earnest.”
Drake folded the parchment and set it down on the bookshelf behind him before standing and picking up a billiards stick. “Why ever do you say so? I’ve heard Harley’s sister is the toast of the ton. Some say she’s the jewel of the Season.”
Rob stared at Drake as if he’d lost his mind. “She’s Harley’s sister.”
Drake shrugged. “She has to marry someone.”
“One doesn’t marry one’s friend’s sister. Especially for her funds.” He arched a brow. “It’s not done.”
“I’m still amazed by what’s considered done and not done for the eyes of propriety when everyone in London is behaving as if Sodom and Gomorrah were but a mere Sunday tea.”
Rob closed his eyes as the idea of Harry as his wife dared to whisper through his mind. “Harley would kill me.”
Drake walked about the billiards table, studying the myriad of balls upon the felt. “So, the idea of her doesn’t bother you.”
Rob held his glass aloft. “I beg your pardon?”
“You don’t seem to have any issue with the lady in question,” Drake replied without looking up.
He stilled, thinking of Harry. Of the way she’d boldly strode up to him and bluntly demanded how he dared do what he did. He’d thought her utterly marvelous in that moment. How many women had the courage to do such a thing? Not many. Not many men either, for that matter.
She’d been splendid.
“Harry is. . .” He could not think of the words.
Drake lowered his stick and stared before he let out a laugh. “Good God, fellow, you’re already in love.”
“I am not,” Rob cut in. “That’s absurd.”
Drake pointed the billiards stick at him. “You look like a moon calf.”
“I am incapable of such a thing.”
Drake grinned. “Your eyes have gone all round and dreamy.”
“I am going to have to brain you with that stick.”
“Alas, that will have no effect.” Drake gave him a sly, sardonic look. “I am an obstinate fellow.”
Rob sighed. “I am aware. I could never marry her.”
“Since this is all just senseless wondering, may I ask why?”
“No, you may not. I’m allowed a few secrets.”
“Why?” Drake rested against the billiards table. “I have none from you.”
Rob scowled “That makes this damned difficult.”
“Who told you that any of this would be easy?”
“A valid point, my friend.”
Drake nodded then shrugged as if the discussion about his reservations was, indeed, over. “Well, if you will have none of Lady Harriet, should we survey the other names?”
Rob wiped a hand over his face. “I suppose we must.”
“Let’s get on with it then,” Drake said, taking aim. “Option one: Lady Aurora Apesbury.”
“Oh dear God,” Rob bit out, a wave of horror crashing over him.
Drake bore his teeth in a mischievous grin. “Oh, the fun has only begun. And if she is the one, I look forward to avoiding the numerous musicales hosted in your home.”
Lady Aurora had a portion that was no doubt no less than fifty thousand, a point which her father had made very clear more than once at a card party whilst young men played. But she was most renowned for the musicales which she seemed to relish. There was only one explanation for this. Lady Barbara had to be tone deaf.
Drake paused then added, “Lady Emily—”
“Cease,” Rob roared, his head suddenly pounding. “Please cease. I cannot face this now.”
“These are only names,” Drake pointed out brightly. “You’ll have to live with one of them.”
“I have a very large house,” Rob said tightly. “In fact, I have many large houses. She can choose any one she wants once her money has refurbished them.”
“You’ll have to beget an heir, you know.”
“It has crossed my mind.” And to his horror, he immediately thought of Harry. The red of her lips after he’d kissed her and the way her eyes had glowed with enthusiasm. She would look perfect in his bed and he had a feeling that she would enjoy herself there as opposed to so many young women who were taught to see the act as a duty.
She’d have beautiful children, too.
He shook his head. No. He wasn’t allowed to think such things.
Drake narrowed his gaze. “You’ve gone a wandering again.”
“I was thinking of someone,” Rob confessed, irritated that Drake had read him with such ease.
“Does her name rhyme with marry?” Drake mocked.
“I’m going to pop you one.”
“Promises, promises,” Drake said with a good dose of drama. “You keep threatening violence. If you’d like to spar, we can. You know I enjoy a good fight.”
Rob gripped the billiards stick, contemplated the felt table or bashing his friend’s head in. Then he shook his head. “I’m not good for anything just now, I think. And I have a problem, truth be told.”
“Another one?” Drake asked, his eyes dancing.
Rob narrowed his eyes.
“Peace.” Drake held up a hand as he apparently held back a laugh. “Forgive me. I shall be serious.”
Rob gripped the stick then placed it back on the wall. Without looking back he said, “Lady Harry sought me out alone last night.”
Drake let out a low whistle. “Did she, by God?”
“Mmm. We could have been caught and it could have gone very badly.”
“How badly?” Drake inquired flatly.
Rob cleared his throat. “It would depend on when the person found us.”
Drake joined him, placing his own billiards stick beside Rob’s. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”
“She’s infatuated with me,” defended Rob.
“You’re infatuated with her,” Drake pointed out firmly. He folded his arms across his linen-covered chest. “Admit it.
“I am not.”
“Fine.” His lips twitched. “We will pretend that you are not. What is your dilemma then?”
Rob let out a beleaguered sound. “How do I make her leave me be?”
“I don’t follow.”
Rob scowled. “She’s a very determined young woman and—”
“Announce your marriage to someone else,” Drake cut in easily.
Rob swallowed, feeling as if the floor had dropped out from under him. It was hellish. “That would do it.”
“If you’re determined she isn’t the one for whatever reason you seem to be clinging to, then announce an engagement posthaste.” Drake paused then said quietly, “But may I ask, why are you so certain she isn’t the one?”
“It’s not that she isn’t,” he said softly. “I’m not the one. Lady Harriet deserves happiness and that is something I almost certainly cannot give her.”
“Oh?” Drake asked, obviously refusing to protest Rob’s dark proclamation.
Rob shook his head, hating the truth of it. “The men in my family don’t do marriage well.”
Drake nodded, understanding. He didn’t argue. “You seem quite certain.”
“I am.”
“Well then, nothing more to be said.” He clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “Let’s look at the list again.”
Rob shuddered. “Let’s get three sheets to the wind.”
Drake eyed him then crossed to his coat draped along the back of the wing-backed chair by the fire. “Let’s go out instead. Or is that too much for you just now?”
Rob shook his head and started for the door. It was quite easy to leave the list behind. “I will go to the ends of the earth if I can just forget about this wedding business for a few hours.”