Page 63

L aurence Palmer, Duke of Stonehaven, lounged back in his chair after an afternoon ride on his estate, a brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. His friend and house guest, John Fawsley, Marquess of Brome, lounged in the adjacent chair in a similar state of reflective relaxation.

The country life was that way; Laurence preferred the country life to the obligations that took him to London.

Once his duties there were over, he quickly left Town to return to his beloved countryside estate where he usually lived in solitary splendor.

At the age of eight and twenty, he still had plenty of time to marry when the time was right.

The single life suited him because he had no one other than himself to whom he was required to answer.

Well… except maybe his sister, Portia, but she was now married to a fine gentleman.

Laurence couldn’t have been happier than when Reginald Stanhope asked for his blessing to marry his sister.

He missed her company but with her gone from the manor, he was once again a carefree bachelor enjoying life to its fullest potential with a friend like John as an occasional visitor.

He took a sip of his brandy then brought his cigar to his lips while leaning his head back upon his chair.

Drawing the smoke into his mouth, he enjoyed the complex flavors before slowly exhaling the smoke as he watched the trail lift upwards to the ceiling in his study.

He hadn’t changed much in the room after his father’s passing and took comfort from the fact that he felt closer to his father because he’d left his things in place.

Not that Laurence hadn’t added his own personal touches to the room.

His favorite books now also lined the bookshelves and he’d also added a favorite hunting painting over the mantle.

But most of the décor remained the same over the entire manor, retaining his mother’s taste and touches.

He’d never had the heart to change much and wanted to allow his sister Portia to see that this place would always reflect their parents.

He still missed them like it was just yesterday that a boating accident had taken their lives.

Instead of five years, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then on some days.

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but this just arrived for you.” His butler, Reynolds, stood in the doorway holding a silver platter with what Laurence assumed was an invitation.

Laurence continued to relax in his chair, not wishing to being bothered by possible obligations. He waved his hand toward his mahogany desk. “You can place it on my desk, Reynolds.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Reynolds strode across the room, placed the invitation down and quietly left the room.

A heavy sigh left Laurence as he took another sip of his brandy.

“You don’t plan to open the invitation you received?” John inquired. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

Laurence sat up and put out his cigar in the ashtray on the side table. “Not really. I’m perfectly content here at home, so why would I wish to leave now that I’m away from the hustle and bustle of Town?”

John leaned forward pointing toward the parchment that had been left unopened upon his desk. “May I?” he inquired with an amused smirk.

“Help yourself if you’re that curious,” Laurence drawled. It didn’t matter to him who was having a function or where it was, especially since he didn’t plan to attend.

John stood up, retrieved the invitation, and broke the wax seal. He began to read before an amused chuckle left him. He folded the parchment, replaced it on the desk, and returned to his chair. A smirk lit his features as he took up his drink again, crossing one leg over the other.

When John just sat there saying nothing, Laurence found himself on the verge of growling. His friend, though welcome, could be annoyingly smug. “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me from whom it’s been sent?”

John lifted one dark brow in amusement. “Thought you weren’t interested,” he said with another annoying grin.

“Changed my mind,” Laurence muttered, still not bothering to get the invite from across the room as if it contained something foul.

“I knew you would,” John replied with a smug look of satisfaction. John waved the invite in front of Laurence as if daring him to take it. “I can easily toss it in the fire. No one would be the wiser…”

“Just hand it to me,” Laurence ordered before leaning forward and snatching it from his friend’s hand, causing a chuckled to leave John’s lips. Laurence turned the paper over to view the seal.

“It’s from the Norwood’s,” John finally answered.

“I can now see that for myself, but I barely know the earl and his wife.” He finally looked at the parchment and began to scowl in frustration, unable to stop a sound of annoyance from leaving him.

“Ugh! Another house party and from the underlying tone, they’re looking for a husband for their daughter. ”

“And a wife for their son,” John added. “Not that we’d be involved in that. But I’ve heard the daughter is a rare beauty. Made her debut several years ago but since then has barely shown herself back in London for the Season. Makes you wonder what is wrong with her.”

Laurence tossed the invite onto the table between them. “Makes no difference to me. I won’t be attending.”

“Might be entertaining, especially if you let me tag along. We could see for ourselves why the young woman remains a recluse at Brockenhurst.”

Laurence shook his head. “Again… it makes no difference to me, seeing as I won’t be attending. They can find some other fool to marry her.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Laurence? There was a time in our younger days when you’d accept the challenge of seeing what all the fuss was about for the latest debutante.”

A laugh left him. “I have never in my entire life cared one wit about these young misses who are fresh out of the schoolroom and all looking to snag my title. Besides, most of the women I know want to live the life of belonging to high Society, whereas I am the exact opposite. And—as you pointed out—the earl’s daughter had her debut several seasons earlier, so there is no fuss. Just, perhaps, a sense of desperation.”

“I bet that Lady Georgina is of the same mindset as you. Perhaps she’s just not interested in marriage or Society. Perhaps you’re right, there’s nothing to it. Still, a party is a party. It wouldn’t kill us to attend. It might even be amusing,” John mentioned before finishing off his drink.

“One country miss is much like any other. Again, I’d rather stay here and enjoy my solitude.” Laurence stood and went to the sideboard to fetch the decanter of brandy. He refilled both their drinks before setting it closer at hand when a refill was needed.

“How about we make a wager of it to make it interesting?” John suggested, leaning forward.

“A wager? At my expense? I think not.”

John laughed. “You really have become quite boring, Your Grace.”

Laurence raised a dark brow. The bowing and scraping from anyone else was always expected, but not from John.

They had been friends for far too many years to stand on formalities.

At that, he gave a heavy sigh, knowing he was going to cave in.

He’d always enjoyed the challenges he and John had faced throughout their friendship, mostly caused by John’s relentless desire to get into mischief. Or wager. Or both.

“Very well… what is the wager you would like to suggest?”

John put down his brandy to clap his hands together with glee. “I wager my newest racing horse that you can’t win over Lady Georgina within the first week of the house party.”

“A week? I could win her over in a day or two. What woman wouldn’t like to have the attention of a duke?

” Laurence scoffed, as though John had lost his senses.

And he had. His new horse was a beautiful, fast stallion, and certainly, he’d be good as a stud.

Any foals he threw would be valuable in themselves.

The horse was an investment to be sure. John was crazy for betting him.

And Laurence would be crazy for not taking the bet. After all, John hadn’t said he needed to marry the woman. He just needed to win her over; that was something he was willing to do.

“Let’s not get too cocky, shall we? The bet is for a week.” John rolled his eyes, apparently not impressed by Laurence’s confidence in his ability to woo a woman.

He’d really thrown down the gauntlet now. It was getting harder and harder to say no . Still, Laurence decided to make him worry a bit. “And what do you get if I lose this wager with you?”

John chuckled and gave another sly grin. “Your prize hunting dog.”

“A dog versus a horse? That hardly seems fair. You are bound to lose a prime stallion,” Laurence exclaimed.

“I’ve always wanted your hunting dog. Besides, if you win, you might get far more than you bargained for.”

A frown marred Laurence’s brow. “I can’t possible see what I might also gain from this, besides gloating over the fact that I’ve won another bet from you. You’ve been on a bit of a losing streak, my friend.”

“Which I plan to remedy with our latest amusement that will be a secret just between us.”

Laurence laughed. “If you say so. I still don’t understand what you think I might also gain from this secret wager.”

The knowing gaze that swept over John’s face caused Laurence to have a moment of hesitation in accepting the challenge. His friend’s words almost confirmed the reason for him to be wary. “Why, you get the girl, of course,” he said.

“I don’t see how that is any sort of consolation prize,” Laurence grumbled.

“As I said earlier… I heard she is a rare beauty. She just might surprise you.”

Laurence couldn’t image any woman who could see past his title and the opportunity to become a duchess. But before Laurence could think rationally, John held out his hand and they shook on it, sealing their wager.

He had the feeling he was going to regret such a hasty decision.