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But Matthew’s response was swift and firm, his tone unyielding. “I can’t afford to make exceptions. The ton is relentless. I must protect my family’s honor, no matter the cost.”

As Matthew and Stephen’s conversation continued, the atmosphere in the gentlemen’s club remained charged with tension.

“Matthew,” Stephen persisted, a playful gleam in his eyes, “sometimes a night of passion with a harlot is all you need to clear your mind and forget about Miss Agnes.”

Matthew sighed, weary of the conversation, and decided to appease his friend. “Fine, Stephen, I’ll consider it just to put your mind at ease.”

However, their banter was abruptly interrupted by the intrusion of a figure into the male-dominated sanctum. It was Letitia, Matthew’s vivacious sister, whose presence immediately drew disapproving glances and hushed murmurs from the club’s patrons.

In the ensuing quiet, Letitia directed her words to her brother with unmistakable affection. “Matthew, Mother is insistent. She needs you immediately, deeming it urgent,” she conveyed, having skillfully navigated past the butler, determined to deliver the message herself.

Matthew’s frustration flared at his sister’s audacity to enter such a space. He growled, his patience wearing thin, “Letitia, this is not a place for women. I will attend to Mother’s wishes in due time.”

But Letitia, oblivious to the unwritten rules of the club, seemed more interested in Stephen. With a cheerful demeanor, she attempted to engage in conversation. “Mr. Miller, what a delightful surprise to see you here. What were you and my brother discussing?”

Matthew, his annoyance palpable, wasted no time in grabbing Letitia’s arm and escorting her toward the exit, his voice laced with irritation. “Letitia, we will have our talk later. Now is not the time or place for your curiosity.”

Letitia scoffed. “Unhand me immediately, Brother,” she said.

But Matthew just scoffed, not bothering to answer her.

Letitia, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, couldn’t resist a tease. “Matthew, dear brother, you’re looking even grimmer than usual today. Has the weight of the dukedom finally caught up with you?”

Matthew’s patience was wearing thin, and he retorted with a hint of annoyance, “Letitia, not now. Mother requires my presence, and I have matters to attend to.”

She continued to prod him, her voice filled with playful persistence. “Oh, come on, Matthew. You’ve always taken life so seriously. When was the last time you allowed yourself a bit of fun?”

Fun?

What did that even mean?

Matthew hissed in response, “Fun is not the order of the day. I have responsibilities, and I must uphold the family’s honor, Letitia. People like me don’t have fun.”

As Matthew and Letitia made their way toward her waiting carriage and his horse, their good-natured jesting continued. The familiar, playful banter between siblings served as a brief respite from the tension inside the gentlemen’s club.

They got to the carriage, and Letitia, with a twinkle in her eyes, turned to Matthew again, quipping, “Matthew, don’t tell me you’ve become too important for your own sister. The dukedom hasn’t made you that unbearable, has it?”

Matthew couldn’t help but chuckle in response. “You always manage to find humor in everything, Letitia. But even if I do have responsibilities to uphold, I could never become too important for my kid sister, you know.”

Letitia laughed softly, and Matthew wondered if he should warn her about entering some places and then ruin the mood. He took a step toward her but stopped abruptly as a disheveled, drunken man got out of the club and staggered toward Letitia, mumbling something utterly unintelligent.

His sister, the ever-kind lady, instinctively rushed to aid him, fearing he might fall. “Oh, dear. Be careful, Sir,” she muttered and rushed to grab his arm.

Matthew smiled in fondness, but that smile vanished in the next second when the drunkard suddenly looked up at Letitia, pushed her away, and spat on her, his eyes holding so much venom and hatred that Matthew stood stock-still first.

“What’s a lady like you doing in a place meant for whores? Disgrace!” The man leered at her and proceeded to try and grab her.

Matthew’s eyes blazed with anger, his protective instincts flaring to life. He lunged forward and grabbed that bastard so harshly that he yelped in pain.

“How dare you?!” Matthew growled, his voice like death itself, and the coward gulped in fear.

He raised his hand. ready to strike the offender, but Letitia’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“No! Brother! Please, don’t!” she called out, her tone surprisingly calm despite the humiliation she had just endured.

Matthew halted and took deep breaths to calm his anger. He knew why Letitia quickly stopped him—his reputation could get ruined.

He hated his reputation. What’s a reputation if one could not help his family?