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The Albany

Piccadilly, Mayfair

London, England

A lexander Stapleton—Viscount Wexley—sat in his favorite leather wingback chair in his smallish drawing room, but the book in his hand simply couldn’t keep his attention. The soft chime of the carriage-style clock on the mantel announced the ten o’clock hour.

Where the devil is Duncan?

He and his younger brother were scheduled to spend the evening at their club, but until Duncan arrived, there was nothing to do except wait. Granted, the man wasn’t the promptest fellow, but he was now a half hour late, and there was no excuse for that since they both lived in the same building.

Closing the book with a snap, Alexander then put the volume on the rose-inlaid table at his elbow.

His new residence had been cause for a bit of animosity between both his brothers, for Lewis, the oldest of the Stapleton boys as well as the Earl of Lethbridge, had recently married a month prior, which meant both Alexander and their mother needed to relocate.

Obviously, living with a newlywed pair would prove awkward.

And truly, who wished to hear his brother involving himself in carnal activities while trying to sleep in the room next door?

His mother moved to a townhouse in Hanover Square that Lewis had assisted her in buying, while Alexander went into rooms at The Albany, where many bachelors of the beau monde resided because they couldn’t commit to a life of domesticity.

It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to tumble into the parson’s mousetrap just yet, he just wanted to build up a personal fortune for himself in order to attract a decent caliber of lady.

One couldn’t—and really shouldn’t—pursue a woman with matrimony in mind if he couldn’t take care of her, especially when he couldn’t afford to purchase a townhouse of his own.

Yet paying monthly for his rooms was a drain on his own bank account, for he refused to ask Lewis for additional coin.

Which was why he really needed to enter more bare-knuckle boxing bouts.

And win them. Of course, that was the trick. Currently, his record of winning versus losing ran about even.

It was aggravating.

Besides, his nodcock of a brother went and got himself injured at his last bout which had ended with him proposing to his now wife, which meant he was no longer boxing for prize money, and that added strain to Alexander and Duncan, for their father didn’t have much of a head for business—and he liked gambling a bit too much—leaving the Stapleton coffers near dun territory.

For the time being, Lewis took on private clients who wished to learn how to box for whatever reason, and he watched over the salon like a brooding hawk.

Annoying habit, really. Why couldn’t he go on a wedding trip and let Alexander and Duncan run the salon in his absence?

It was exhausting to worry about. However, he did keep the books for the Stapleton Boxing Salon, and with that came a meager living that allowed him to let his rooms, pay his small staff, and feed himself, but not much more.

To say nothing of the fact that sometimes the numbers gave him problems and he didn’t like how his brain felt during the struggle.

The only break he had was when Cecilia—the new Countess of Lethbridge—dropped by to lend a hand in balancing the ledgers.

Perhaps one day soon Lewis would allow her to take over that task, and that would give Alexander the freedom to find his own path.

“Why do you stare so hard into a cold fireplace with such a scowl?” Amusement threaded through Duncan’s voice as he came into the room. “You are hardly the brooding type like Lewis.”

“I can brood.”

“You could, but on you, it’s more pouting, since you’re a bit slighter than him and not as attractive.

And you’re not an earl.” Duncan snickered as he dropped into a matching leather chair.

Though he was dressed in the same dark evening clothing as Alexander, his devil-may-care style made him more interesting and mysterious.

It must be the loosened cravat or the damned flirting.

“I am a viscount. That’s enough.”

“Only because it was a courtesy title of Papa’s. Can’t pass that down to a son.”

While that was true, it only added to the heated annoyance already filling his chest. “As if you are not in the same position, Lord Frampton. Why were you late?” He tried to keep the irritation from his tone, but failed.

The new circumstances and facing too much change in such a short span of time was quite jarring and he felt as if he were drowning.

“Don’t come the crab with me just because you’re living here now instead of in a grand townhouse.

” When Alexander made a crude gesture, Duncan chuckled.

“My last lesson ran late, and I chatted with the man a bit afterward, then I had to tidy the salon before closing it for the evening. You know how Lewis is when we leave the salon messy for the next day.”

“Yes, he’s quite a prick about it, but I do understand that to a certain point.

I admire your dedication to your clients.

” As well as to the family business, for Duncan had a knack for bringing in clients or investors because he was the most charming of them all.

The man could sell fleas to a dog, truly.

And now that Lewis had stepped back from public boxing lessons, Alex and Duncan had no choice but to divide those up between them.

Honestly, if Alexander had his druthers, he’d like to try his hand at being the salon’s manager, for it was gaining visibility and traction, and the client roster grew each week.

Whenever a boxer from their salon won an illegal match, it only brought interest to the salon.

To his mind, he had a knack for overseeing several things at the same time, and he could use all of that to his advantage.

But Lewis was too damned stubborn to release that control.

“It’s my admiration of coin that motivates me.” His brother leaned back in the chair and then rested an ankle on a knee. “At least Lewis didn’t cut you off.”

He snorted. “Not that there was much coin to begin with.” Shaking his head, he regarded his younger brother. “We are both making a living from the salon, though, so that’s nothing to sneeze at.”

“True, but my lifestyle is rather lusher than yours. I require more funding, and my creditors won’t be content to wait forever.”

“Because you are a bad steward with your coin, and a bit of a wastrel.”

In that, Duncan took after their father, who had been a champion bare-knuckle fighter of some acclaim.

So much so that he’d left that legacy to his three sons.

Unfortunately, Alexander didn’t have the same skill as his brothers.

Where Lewis was determined and logical in the ring, Duncan was fast on his feet and more often than not took his bouts with a bit of underhanded verbal abuse and questionable movements.

He, on the other hand, liked to feel out his opponents, and sometimes those delays cost him the matches.

But truthfully, he just didn’t understand the sport like his brothers, and his interest wasn’t cemented in the ring.

His strength lay in organization and overseeing the greater whole.

Which was why he hoped Lewis would let him manage the salon soon.

“Can I help if I’m more discerning in all areas of my life than you?” Duncan left his chair for the sideboard. “Brandy?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Once his brother brought over a cut-crystal tumbler with a measure of brandy, Alexander took a sip as Duncan reclaimed his chair. “We are still for the club tonight, yes?”

“We are.” Duncan nodded. “Should we call at home and ask Lewis to accompany us?”

Alexander pulled a face. “We could, but he’s been quite preoccupied of late with his wife. I’m afraid he’ll be no company at all.”

“It’s so bizarre to think of Lewis as a married man.” Duncan grinned. “I honestly thought he would hold out for much longer than he did before he jumped into the parson’s mousetrap.” He shrugged. “He was so adamant about remaining a bachelor even in the face of the responsibility to the title.”

“True. I fully expected him to take a mistress for a few years, but you know how Mama is. She’s like a dog with a bone when she wants us to do something.

” One of his eyebrows rose, and he took another sip of the amber liquor, wincing at the burn in his throat.

“Damn, but what if she decides to badger me into falling into matrimony next?”

“Terrified of having a woman in your life, or frightened of being shackled to one for the rest of your life?” Amusement threaded through Duncan’s voice.

“Yes?” They both shared a laugh. “I haven’t had the chance to sort myself yet, don’t know what I want for my life. Why should I ask a woman to stumble down that path with me and have her respect me while doing it?”

“There is that. Besides, a wife and then the subsequent children are expensive to keep. No sense going once more into dun territory just to have that.” While he sipped his own brandy, Duncan watched him. “Do you want to know the truth?”

“Of course. There are no secrets between us.”

His younger brother nodded. “I’m jealous, actually. Jealous of what Lewis has, you know?”

“What?”

“I am jealous of what Lewis has.” Duncan shot back the remainder of his brandy, winced, and then set the glass on the table at his elbow.

Surprise went through Alexander’s chest as he stared at his brother. “You want to be married? Have a wife, a home, a family?” He sat up straighter in his chair. “Would you give up the boxing to have a chance of that?”