Page 20 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY

H udson had almost forgotten how much he despised social gatherings of any kind. The endless bustle of preparations, the infernal noise and chatter, the absolute torture of having to smile and nod to this and that person… it made even the war seem like a peaceful promenade in the Park.

He tossed his head back and allowed the alcohol to burn a path down his throat. His mother was going to kill him, but there was no way he was going to survive the night without some sort of fortification. And speaking of fortifications…

“I thought I might find you here.”

Hudson gritted his teeth at the grating cheerfulness of his friend’s voice as Ethan walked into his study and invited himself to his liquor cabinet.

“Remind me again why I consider you my friend,” he growled.

Ethan merely laughed and helped himself to some whiskey. He raised his glass in his friend’s direction and smiled. “Hiding out here will do you no good, my friend.”

All right. Hudson had had enough of diplomacy.

“Why are you here?” he demanded harshly. “Shouldn’t you be out there, dancing with your wife?”

Ethan shook his head. “Have you forgotten? Etiquette forbids married couples from dancing with each other.”

“Etiquette has never stopped you before.”

Ethan grinned. “True, but Phoebe insists on it.”

So, the new Duchess of Sinclair was a stickler for rules. A rather stark contrast to a certain redheaded friend of hers, who seemed to enjoy flouting convention at every turn.

And here I thought I was doing quite well in refraining from thinking of her!

Hudson downed another drink. Hell, he was going to need an entire bottle to get through the first round of guests.

It did not bode well for the rest of the night.

“I take it she is none too happy with me,” he grumbled.

Ethan nodded. “You should know that they are extremely loyal creatures. If you cross one…” He shuddered visibly. “Then you should prepare to deal with the rest of them.”

It seemed like even the Duke of Sin had been on the receiving end of such collective feminine outrage, very likely from the same group that would be watching Hudson this evening.

Yet another thing to look forward to.

Hudson gave him a mirthless smile. “That, old friend, sounds a lot more like tribalism than loyalty.”

“Maybe so, maybe so.” Ethan clapped a hand on Hudson’s shoulder. A gesture of commiseration. Maybe even pity. “Well, I must get back. I promised Phoebe that I would dance with Scarlett tonight.”

The hell you will.

Every fiber of his being rebelled at the thought of her in another man’s arms. It was only the thought that Ethan would never look at her that way that kept his fist from crashing into his friend’s face.

“You should be getting ready yourself,” Ethan suggested. “The Dowager Duchess would not be pleased to note your absence.”

“I am used to my mother’s disappointment in these things.”

“It might not be just her disappointment you will be dealing with if you fail to be there.” He laughed. “Your mother is a rather formidable woman.”

She’d had to be, to survive.

Hudson clenched his hand into a fist and poured himself another drink. Just how many glasses would it take to numb himself enough for this thrice-damned ball? He had already poured out half the bottle, and his thoughts were still as clear as day.

Curse tolerance. Where was blessed oblivion when he needed it?

Hudson poured himself another drink.

He entered the ball just as the first guests started to arrive, earning him a glare from his mother.

“Is that whiskey I smell on you?” she hissed, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, Hudson, I told you!”

“I needed it to bolster my fortitude.”

His mother smiled pleasantly at Lord and Lady Wellesley. “You’ve never needed bolstering before.”

“Well, I need it now .”

The quick look she gave him told him that he would hear more from her after the ball. At his age and even with his towering height, his mother still saw fit to lecture him. It would have been amusing if deep down he didn’t think that she was right.

After the first wave had finished, he quietly excused himself.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“More fortification,” he replied.

“Any more fortification and you will not be able to move!” She wrinkled her nose. “Or stand.”

He flashed her a grin and pressed a perfunctory kiss to her cheek. “Now that is a plan.”

Hudson was in the midst of his second—or was it the third?—glass, and it was barely half past nine.

“And here I thought that I would be given the honor of being greeted by the master of Wolverton Estate himself at the door,” a dry voice commented.

“Alice will be extremely disappointed to find that we have left our baby just to watch the Duke of Wolverton drink himself to a stupor,” another sighed in mock disappointment. “Ethan had us fairly convinced that the Wolf had finally found his match in a certain redhead.”

“Well, I assure you that you all will get to see him tied in knots before the night is done,” Ethan chimed in laughingly. “It is both a most amusing and horrifying sight.”

Hudson turned around to find all three of his friends standing before him. Ethan, with that grin he would just love to wipe the ballroom floor with. Daniel was regarding him with a raised eyebrow and an expression akin to amusement. Colin simply looked at him with sympathy, which Hudson would have appreciated, had it not been for the smugness in his smile.

And he called these men his friends? Scarlett seemed to inspire more loyalty from her Duchess friends than he did from their husbands, and he knew them for much longer than they did her.

“I could hardly believe it when Ethan told us you were pining after Scarlett.” Colin shook his head. “But here you are.”

Pining was not exactly the word Hudson would use for the malady that had overcome him. Lust would be more apt, although it still paled in comparison to the fierceness of his desire for her.

Perhaps soul-consuming lust would do, but… it was still not enough.

“There! See? I was right!”

Hudson glared at Ethan, whose shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“I hope your Duchess would not mind me sending you back to her in a splint,” he growled threateningly. “Or two. Or three.”

The promise of broken bones hardly seemed to deter his friend, who merely chuckled at the blatant warning.

“That threat might have carried more weight if it had been Phoebe who issued it,” Colin remarked with a shake of his head. “Or my darling wife.” He smiled proudly.

Bloody hell, were all his friends so fearful of their wives? Hudson was going to need a drink if all they were going to talk about was married life.

Or you could get a wife of your own , a sly voice whispered in his ear. Your little cat would not only make a fine duchess, but she would also be perfect in your bed. And everywhere else that counts.

Hudson nearly crushed the fragile glass in his hand.

“Do not be rash.”

He glanced sideways to find Daniel looking knowingly at his hand. The man did not miss anything, damn him.

“Hudson, you are being too obvious,” he told him softly.

As if Hudson did not already know that. Holding onto what little control he had was like grasping a rope with his hands slick with grease. Ethan and Colin were not making it any better with their provocations.

Hudson plucked another glass off the tray of a passing footman while another called out the names of guests as they arrived.

“The Earl of Salzburg and the Dowager Countess of Salzburg!”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at him. “This is not like you. Get hold of yourself.”

Hudson was vaguely aware of Ethan and Colin looking at him with concern. As if he was losing his grasp on his sanity.

He did not blame them either. There were many times when he was left wondering if Scarlett had indeed stolen his wits.

“The Viscount Marbrooke and the Viscountess Marbrooke!”

“I. Am. Perfectly. Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Clearly not, if you are speaking in halting sentences,” Ethan remarked.

Hudson shook his head. “I just need another glass.”

Colin pressed his lips into a thin line. “How many have you had? It is not even midnight yet.”

“If you were in any of my establishments, you would be losing at least three estates and your darkest secret,” Daniel added.

They were not helping.

“Perhaps a walk in the gardens?” Ethan suggested. “The cool air might clear your head.”

His mother would kill him for disappearing in the middle of the ball.

“I am not one of your vapid dalliances that you have to lure out into the gardens.”

Ethan looked visibly affronted. “Believe me, Hudson, you are not pretty enough to be lured out. Besides…” The damned fool smiled. “Why would I need a dalliance when I have Phoebe?”

“The Dowager Countess of Southford and Lady Scarlett Clarke!”

Hudson’s spinning world suddenly came to a grinding halt.

So it went for everyone else, it would seem, for a sudden hush suddenly fell all over the ballroom.

Do not look now . You are not ready for this. Get a hold of yourself first.

But he would never be ready.

There was only the here and the now and the undeniable urge to look towards her light. Always her, and nobody else.

So, Hudson looked…

And the sight of her stole his breath away.

I can still leave. Pick up my skirts. And. Just. Leave.

But leaving seemed an awful lot like retreating. Like admitting defeat .

And she would not do that while she still drew breath. Not while she had a breathtaking dress in her arsenal that she had yet to put to good use.

“Look!” her mama breathed in wonder. “Her Grace is truly a miracle worker! I never thought they would be able to transform the ballroom in such a short time.”

“I suppose nothing is impossible with unlimited wealth and an army of servants,” Scarlett muttered.

Her mother nodded. “A pity that you and His Grace are not courting.”

“Mama.” Scarlett’s voice dropped to a low warning. “I thought we had already talked about this?—”

“I know, I know, my dear. But one can hope, right?”

“No, Mama. You had better put those hopes to rest. They are not happening.”

Her mama heaved a sigh that seemed to have come from the very depths of her soul, rattling her bones along the way.

Scarlett could not help but smile at that. Her mother had such a flair for the dramatic—when she cared, anyway.

“Oh look! There he is!”

Her head swung in the direction her mama had indicated. It was only second nature, she supposed. Somebody pointed and she turned.

And learned that her mama was pointing at the very reason for her agony.

Their eyes met—hers from the top of the stairs, and his from the bottom. They were unfathomably dark, his eyes. Like the sky before the storm.

Then, his lips quirked into a smile as he raised his glass in her direction like a toast. Heaven help her, but she could not help the giggle that bubbled up her throat.

If she had not realized it, then, she knew it now .

“Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. No .”