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Somerton chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I never imagined I would see the day when you would be so protective. It is rather endearing.”

“I would choose my words more carefully if I were you,” Hector warned in a menacing tone.

Somerton held up his hands in mock surrender. “As you wish, Islington. Let us speak on other matters.”

Hector forced himself to unwind although his anger still simmered beneath the surface. He would not let Somerton goad him into a confrontation, not here and not now.

“What is it?”

“I am here to convince you to join forces with me on a buyout project.” Somerton brought out his map. “There are chains of estate to purchase.”

It is the joint venture that Marcus was pushing for.

Hector leaned back as Somerton pitched his plan, but his mind was already made up. If he’d had no intention of joining this venture earlier, his interest would certainly not become piqued now that Somerton was presenting it to him.

“The estates are doing pretty well despite their large number.”

Hector nodded as he realized what he had to do. “Who is in charge of these estates?”

“I believe Mr. Colin Aiden is the solicitor.”

“Well, let us review our ventures first, and we can see to this afterwards.”

“All right. It would be best if we investigate the shipping methods employed there,” agreed Somerton. “I am on my way to Cornwall, so I might be able to stop by as well.”

The men were soon buried in work, and it wasn’t until about an hour later that they leaned back in their seats for a break. Somerton reached into his briefcase and retrieved a bottle of brandy.

“Let us celebrate our successes. This bottle cost me a fortune, and it would be a shame not to enjoy it,” Somerton said, raising the bottle.

Hector eyed the bottle, skeptical. “No, thank you.”

“Just one glass? We should make a toast to the prospect of a successful future.”

Hector sighed and nodded. “Let us be done with it then.”

Somerton poured the rich, amber liquid into their glasses, the aroma of aged oak and spice wafting through the room. “To a prosperous venture,” Somerton toasted, raising his glass.

Hector clinked his glass with Somerton’s and took a careful sip. The warmth of the brandy spread through him, easing some of the tension from the meeting. “Cheers.”

Somewhere down the hall, Juliet’s hearty laughter filtered into the room. Hector smiled, relieved that at least his wife was enjoying herself.

Somerton caught the look. He leaned back, a calculated smile on his face. “Be honest with me, Islington—how are you really enjoying your marriage? I expect the Duchess is lovely as she seems.”

Hector’s expression hardened slightly. “That is none of your concern, Somerton.”

Somerton chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, come now. I am merely inquiring out of genuine interest since I am also considering marriage. It is not every day that one hears of such a match.”

Hector’s gaze was steely. “My marriage is a private matter.”

Somerton waved his hand dismissively. “I assure you, I mean well. With your…reputation, one can’t help but wonder how you have adjusted to a marriage with someone as different from you as the Duchess.”

Hector’s jaw tightened. “I am unclear what you are insinuating, but let us keep this conversation strictly focused on business, shall we?”

Somerton raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I was merely curious. You are quite well known for your…shall we say, varied tastes. I hope the Duchess has at least met your expectations?”

Hector’s eyes narrowed, and he set his glass down with a deliberate thump. “My expectations are none of your business.”

Somerton’s smile faltered slightly. “I meant no offence, Your Grace. I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”