Page 101

Marcia gave him a jaunty little wave, and Andrew quit the parlor and headed for the Viscount Wessex’s offices.

This was a meeting he was dreading. One, Andrew had sworn to never wed. Two, he’d been caught in a compromising position with a young lady, and by the young lady’s father at that.

But adding his blasted brother-in-law into the proverbial mix?

“Splendid,” he muttered. “Just splendid.”

The servant stationed at the doorway made no effort to conceal his grin.

Yes, because Rutland’s reputation as a reformed scoundrel, even all these years later, had preceded him.

As if fearing Andrew might change his mind, the servant stepped forward and knocked once, and pressing the door handle, he swung the double doors wide. “Lord Waters to see you.”

Two sets of eyes swung to Andrew.

Andrew ventured into the room.

He’d expected Marcia’s father to be seated, had imagined the other man behind his desk, so there’d be at least that barrier between them.

Instead, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Rutland, two men who’d clearly been waiting for Andrew’s arrival.

Well, what else did you expect?

The footman quietly backed out of the room.

Andrew got out in front of the meeting. “Brother!” he called jovially. “It issogood to see you again this fine morning.”

Rutland made no attempt to greet him with anything more than a narrowing of his eyes.

Uneasy as he’d always been around the terrifying fellow, Andrew looked to the one who proved safer in this instance.

Alas, if looks could kill, Andrew would have been a pile of ash burned by that stare, and the viscount’s servant would have been summoned to sweep his remnants into a dustbin.

“Do you really think to enter my office smiling?” Wessex demanded sharply. “After how you were discovered, after your latest sins, you should come in here as carefree as Sunday?”

No, Marcia’s father was correct on that score.

Andrew inclined his head. “May we sit?” he asked quietly.

Marcia’s father tensed, and for a moment, Andrew thought he intended to deny that request.

But then the other man moved behind his desk and seated himself. He gestured to Andrew.

Andrew quickly settled into the leather winged chair opposite Marcia’s father. All the while, Rutland positioned himself near Wessex.

Andrew paused to look around the room. How many times had he invaded the viscount’s sanctuary? How many times had he come here only to find Marcia here to keep him company? His gaze landed on the largely empty drink case across Wessex’s office.

My father does not drink brandy.Her child’s voice from long ago slipped into his memories. That had been the first time they’d met and the beginning of their friendship.

And that friendship is why you really shouldn’t go through with this.

Her father was right.

Andrew, however, would receive funds that ensured not only his future but Marcia’s, as well.

Marcia, whose ruin was no doubt already being whispered about.

And that friendship was really why heshouldgo through with it. Why he needed to.