Chapter 18 #2
The Lord of Luck blinked, caught off-kilter by the question. This time, Nathanial’s snort of amusement was not at all reluctant. Clearly, Matthew had never considered that his luck might go so awry.
“Do not listen to Sebastian; he described his own sister as plain and dull.” Gregory shook his head. “He has no idea how to judge a woman’s attributes.”
That made all of them laugh as Sebastian scowled.
They’d all heard Sebastian’s descriptions, of course.
Tiffany’s style, under Lady Astrid’s tutelage, had certainly improved, and she was far more fashionable now, wearing clothing that flattered her much more than her previous attire.
Nathanial could only assume her mother’s influence had been to her detriment.
Older women could become rather set in their ways, especially with fashion.
Yet, despite her beauty, she had never stirred him the way Miss Little did.
Christian let out a shout of triumph as he won the billiards match against Matthew, thrusting one fist into the air. Sighing, Matthew turned away and put the stick back in its holder on the wall.
“Anyone for cards?” he asked hopefully.
“Only if you pay me every time you win,” Gregory joked.
“There is an interesting experiment—would Matthew’s luck still have him winning the game, or would he begin losing because winning would have a different outcome?” Christian mused.
Before Matthew could respond, the door to the billiards room opened, and Drake and Zachary came striding in.
As usual, Zachary’s monkey was riding on his shoulder, one tiny paw in Zachary’s hair, his little tail curled around Zachary’s neck.
Rescued from an ill-tempered owner at a ball earlier in the Season, the monkey was thoroughly attached to Zachary, who had decided to name it after Sinclair, the only member of their little group to meet his untimely demise before finding a wife and heir.
Well, the only member so far, but that was a black thought Nathanial pushed away from his mind.
Sinclair’s tragic and unexpected death had been the catalyst for all of them to put more effort into the search for a bride.
The new arrivals were immediately met with glad greetings, especially Monkey Sinclair, who accepted the attention with gravitas worthy of a duke.
“I was not sure you would come,” Nathanial admitted. Since Zachary had not initially been a guest for the house party, he would not have blamed the other man for refusing the invitation now.
“And miss your wedding?” Zachary shook his head. “Besides, I needed to quit London while I had the chance. Being the only unmarried duke in the city was hardly a comfortable experience. Worse, my mother has begun campaigning for me to marry Lady Annabelle.”
“Lady Annabelle Walsh?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes.” Zachary cast a dark look at Drake, who was already moving to the drink cart to get himself a glass. “She has decided the only thing that will truly make her happy now is if I marry her best friend’s daughter. I can only imagine where she got that idea.”
“If she had asked me, I would have told her it was a poor choice,” Drake replied blandly. He glanced at Zachary. “Drink?”
“Please.” Zachary’s tone was fervent, and he reached up to stroke a finger along Monkey Sinclair’s back. The little creature chittered and leaned against Zachary’s head.
Out of all of their coterie, Zachary had been the closest to Sinclair. That he was taking some comfort in his new pet was good.
“Has Lady Annabelle met Sinclair?” Sebastian asked, nodding at the monkey. Zachary made a face.
“No.” His tone was clipped as he answered.
So far, Monkey Sinclair had shown an aversion to women, with one singular exception—Zachary’s ex-mistress, the Baroness Ashfield.
Who was also a house guest, as she was one of Lady Astrid’s close friends and very likely the reason Zachary had not been invited to the house party in the first place.
The pair’s feelings for each other made their separation extremely awkward whenever they occupied the same room.
Likely, Lady Astrid had meant to give the baroness a respite from Zachary’s presence during the house party, but Fate had had other plans.
“Perhaps if you are averse to marrying her, you should hasten with the introduction,” Gregory suggested, a mischievous light in his eyes.
“I think I will have to keep Monkey Sinclair away from her for as long as possible.” Zachary sighed, resignation writ in every line of his body.
“For the first time, my mother has been… lighter, I suppose is the best word. No longer so mired in her grief. I am reluctant to negate the change prematurely.”
“You are not actually going to marry a woman just to please your mother, are you?” Sebastian sounded utterly horrified.
From the expression on Zachary’s face and his lack of immediate response, he was considering doing just that.
“Let us talk about something else. Especially in a house where Delilah is also present.” Zachary took a long sip of his drink.
The pain in his eyes when he said his ex-mistress’ name was impossible to miss.
The daft fool. He had choices, and he was making all the wrong ones.
“Have I missed anything other than Nathanial tripping into the parson’s trap? ”
They all exchanged looks.
“Just Lady Johanna’s rather abrupt departure,” Matthew offered up.
It was the only other event of note, considering how little time they’d spent.
They all fell to discussing the lady and her companion, as well as her middle-of-the-night retreat, before moving on to prodding Zachary to update them on the latest ton gossip.
Zachary regaled them with the story of the Countess of Spencer accidentally putting a fork through Lady Hatchet’s hand.
No one believed it was an accident, of course, as Lady Hatchet had put said hand on the Earl of Spencer only half an hour before the unfortunate incident, and onlookers had described the lady’s demeanor as decidedly flirtatious.
He’d shown her no interest, but it hardly mattered.
While Spencer had had a reputation for being an unmitigated rake before his marriage, his countess had an even stronger reputation for being both wild and possessive.
She did not take kindly to ladies importuning her husband, despite his disinterest in the charms of any lady but his wife.
His attitude had become something of a challenge for the ton’s bored matrons, but they did so at the risk of the countess’ displeasure… as Lady Hatchet had discovered.
Nathanial wondered what kind of wife Miss Little would be.
He frowned at the idea that she might become one of the bored ton matrons in search of an accomplished rake to warm her bed.
Equally, the idea of her being possessive of him made him feel rather pleased.
Which made him frown all the more.
This marriage was an arrangement he had been trapped into, nothing more.
He should not care whether his wife was possessive of him or not.
That he felt so of her would likely wear off once she’d borne him an heir.
It was only natural that he would want to be the only man in her bed before she had fulfilled her duty.
That was it.
Nothing more.