Page 18 of Duke of Bronze

CHAPTER 18

" O h, what a lovely surprise, Colin."

The Duchess of Giltford's warm greeting met him the moment he was ushered into her drawing room. Margaret set aside the book she had been perusing and regarded him with an arched brow.

"I do hope this visit is for me and not my husband?" she added, her expression turning wry with playful suspicion.

Colin chuckled as he stepped forward. "Rest assured, Margaret, my purpose here is entirely yours to enjoy."

Margaret's lips curled knowingly. "He is out on business at the moment, in any case," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And besides, you owed me a proper call. It has been far too long since we last shared tea."

As if to emphasize her point, she rang the bell, no doubt summoning the very refreshments she had just referenced.

"You and Anna are certainly keeping society entertained with your outings," she continued slyly. "The gossip sheets have been quite beside themselves. I daresay they have not had such engaging material in some time."

Colin smirked. "And are you among those entertained?"

She lifted a delicate shoulder in an elegant shrug. "I shall not deny that I enjoy a good, harmless speculation." Then, with a conspiratorial glint in her eyes, she added, "Especially if it provides me ample opportunity to tease Anna. That girl is as stubborn as a mule, I tell you."

"Oh, I believe she may be worse," Colin countered with a laugh.

Margaret's laughter joined his, light and teasing, before their conversation was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of the tea service. Once the maid had discreetly withdrawn, Margaret poured a steaming cup and handed it to him with practiced grace.

"So then, Colin," she mused, her gaze assessing as she took her own cup in hand. "To what do I truly owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Colin leaned back against the settee. "I may have come seeking your advice."

Margaret's brow lifted ever so slightly, but she said nothing as she took a measured sip of her tea.

"I hope I can be of assistance," she said at last, setting her cup onto the saucer with an audible clink .

He hesitated for but a moment before pressing forward. "I was wondering what activities Anna might enjoy."

Margaret stilled, studying him intently. A fleeting, enigmatic expression crossed her face, though amusement was clearly present.

"Are you seeking ideas for your outings, then?" she asked.

"One does aim to be prepared."

"Oh, Colin," Margaret's lips twitched, and she reached for her cup once more, "I daresay you have set quite the standard for yourself."

Colin cleared his throat. "I would like suggestions for something she would love. I should hate to think that I bore her."

Margaret tapped a thoughtful finger against the rim of her teacup, her gaze momentarily distant. Then, as if arriving at some great revelation, she said, "Anna does not care for glamour or elaborate gestures. She is adventurous, yes, but she is also a woman of simple pleasures. One of the most unpretentious people I know."

Colin quirked a brow. "Why, you make it sound as though a mere stroll in the park would delight her." He reached for a biscuit from the tray, breaking it in half before taking a bite.

"As a matter of fact, it very well might," Margaret chuckled fondly. "And, might I add, she does appreciate a good drink."

Colin smirked, entirely unsurprised. This was Anna, after all. And yet, despite knowing this, he still found himself inexplicably intrigued—fascinated, even.

"God knows she would overindulge if Uncle Sebastian did not keep her in check," Margaret giggled, shaking her head.

"A woman after my own heart," Colin mused, his amusement evident.

Margaret shot him a mischievous look. "Are you planning on indulging her, then? Uncle Sebastian would certainly not approve."

Colin's grin deepened. "He wouldn't know. Not unless you tell him."

Margaret gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over her chest. "Sir, I would never betray such a confidence." She made a dramatic show of sealing her lips, and the room filled with laughter once more.

As the mirth subsided, Margaret's expression shifted, her amusement giving way to something more contemplative. She regarded Colin with an assessing gaze before speaking again.

"Why do you care, though?"

Colin's hand, which had been reaching for his teacup, hesitated midair. "About what?" he asked, though something in her voice made him wary.

Margaret's lips curved slightly, as though she already knew the answer. "About pleasing Anna. So much so that you came to me for advice."

A beat of silence passed between them, and there it was again—that glint in her eyes. A glint that made Colin feel as though she had uncovered something he had yet to admit to himself.

"Anna may not have asked for any of this, but that does not mean it must be dull for her," Colin replied.

Margaret regarded him with something akin to amusement, her fingers delicately tracing the rim of her teacup. "If you insist that is your only reason," she murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Colin narrowed his eyes slightly. There was something almost incredulous in the way she looked at him, as though she were entirely unconvinced by his words.

He watched as she took a slow sip of her tea, clearly making an effort to disguise her full amusement. She was failing woefully.

Peggy, he thought with an internal sigh, was most certainly one of those eager to see him ensnared.

With thoughts of Anna swirling in his mind, Colin departed Giltford Manor, ideas forming and shifting as he planned their next outing. He had not anticipated seeking Margaret's advice, but he was glad he had. She had given him exactly what he needed.

Upon returning home, he was met with a waiting note from Roderick. At last! Colin unfolded it and scanned the contents.

Lydia is well enough to speak. She will be expecting you tomorrow in the late afternoon.

—R.M

Colin rubbed his thumb over the corner of the parchment as he thought. Then he strode to his desk, plucked a fresh sheet of parchment, and dipped his quill into ink. His hand moved swiftly over the paper, penning a letter with practiced ease.

Roderick's message had stirred something in him, a reminder of something he had meant to do but had, in his distraction, neglected.

The letter he now wrote was to his solicitor. Its contents, however, remained his alone to know—for now.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him just as he pressed his seal onto the warm wax.

His butler stepped in, bowing slightly. "Your Grace, the Duke of Giltford and the Duke of Sterlin have arrived."

"Perfect timing. Send them in, and have this posted." He handed the letter to the butler.

"I heard you called earlier," Giltford announced the moment he strode into the study. "Margaret mentioned you were in need of some advice."

Colin groaned inwardly. He should have known Margaret would not keep such things to herself.

He pulled a face. "I did not realize she would be so eager to share the details with you."

Giltford's grin widened as he crossed the room, lowering himself into one of the leather chairs with an air of supreme contentment. "Oh, we tell each other everything ."

The sheer adoration in his friend's voice was almost insufferable.

"You are an unrecognizable man," Colin mused, shaking his head. "You were once a roguish menace, and now look at you—positively domesticated."

"A blissful transformation, I assure you," Giltford chuckled.

"You shall become unrecognizable in that regard too, once you step into the Parson's mousetrap." Sterlin walked into the room with a knowing smirk.

Colin sighed and momentarily closed his eyes, already anticipating the relentless torment.

"And here I was hoping for some respite from your wedded wisdom," he drawled.

Sterlin chuckled. "Not when you are next in line, my friend."

Colin scoffed. "Ah, but first, I must endure the Herculean task of selecting the future duchess."

"As it happens," Sterlin said, eyes alight with mischief, "are you acquainted with the season's Diamond? Lady Fiona Pierce?"

Colin raised a brow. "I am aware of her. Why?"

Sterlin leaned forward slightly, as if imparting some grand secret. "Word is she would make a fine duchess. Impeccable breeding, excellent connections, a sterling reputation?—"

Colin's gaze narrowed in suspicion. "Did Giltford put you up to this? Has he enlisted you to sell the idea of matrimony to me?"

Morgan, for his part, let out an exaggerated cry of innocence. "I have done no such thing!"

Giltford, however, merely chuckled, entirely unrepentant.

Colin's eyes moved between the two men, his suspicion deepening. "Surely it cannot be a coincidence that he lectured me about marriage just the last time we spoke, and now you are doing the same?”

Morgan wore an expression of utmost innocence, but Colin was not fooled. Especially when he caught the quick glance exchanged between him and Giltford.

"Good Lord," Colin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You have been discussing my prospects."

The ensuing laughter from his friends was all the confirmation he needed. And just like that, Colin realized he was well and truly doomed.