Page 2 of Her Heartless Duke
“Suit yourself,” Isaac shrugged his broad shoulders. “What brings you here to this side of town? I do not reckon that the esteemed Earl of Lancashire would have any business around these parts.”
“I was just in town and decided to see how my old friend was doing,” Daniel shrugged. He ran his hand through his thick, wavy hair and looked pointedly at him. “Tell me—how long do you intend on carrying on in this manner?”
“In what manner?”
“Like you are merely dragging your sorry behind day after day.”
Isaac barely held in the wince at his friend’s astute observation.
For as long as it takes to get the roar of cannons and the stench of death out of my miserable consciousness, he wanted to say.
“Why?” he said instead with a sardonic grin, arms spread wide. “Am I not living the life that every bachelor in London aspires to? Drinking, gambling—one would say that these are the standard in the repertoire of gentlemanly vices.”
“Not,” Daniel replied, “in the manner you are going about it. You need to get out more.”
“I do get out—a lot, in fact,” Isaac pointed out to him. “At night, when the gambling hall a few doors down begins to draw in its patrons.”
The gambling hall he visited was not something his friend would likely frequent, even if he were in dire need of a diversion. The crowd was nothing like what Daniel and their other friends were accustomed to, but that suited Isaac well enough.
“And you are not content with fleecing every poor working man of his hard-earned salary?” Daniel pressed his lips into a grim line. “Or have you been charitably contributing to their vices out of your own pocket?”
Those working men Daniel referred to might not be dressed as finely as the patrons at White’s, nor did they bet exorbitantly large sums of money, but at least they did not look at Isaac the way the gentlemen of the ton did.
“I find that I vastly prefer the company of this crowd, my friend,” he replied simply.
“Be that as it may, you need to pull yourself together,” Daniel quietly admonished him. “You have estates to manage. People are depending on you for their livelihood.”
The Earl of Lancashire had always taken his responsibilities much more seriously than all their other friends. Isaac often wondered if his friend would marry merely for the sake of duty as well.
A few years back, he thought that was how he himself was going to do it as well. Marry a suitable enough girl that he could tolerate for the rest of his life and carry on his family’s bloodline.
And then, he had mether—Lady Vivian Pierce. The one woman who he thought would finally bring peace to the chaos in his soul. Her gentleness and soft voice had felt like a soothing balm to a pain that raged within him day after day.
But even kind, compassionate Vivian gave up on him. Everyone eventually did. He was actually surprised that Daniel was still trying.
“The Season is upon us.”
Isaac snorted. “Fancy that… I thought that the sheer number of dandies cropping up all over London was a mere coincidence.”
“I also saw Lady Pierce arrive at their townhouse in Mayfair yesterday—with her twounmarrieddaughters in tow,” Daniel pointed out with an irreverent grin.
He sucked in a harsh breath.Unmarried—Vivian was yet to marry another.
He saw his friend smile subtly in triumph. “Tell you what, Langley—why don’t you get yourself cleaned up in time for the Townsend ball tomorrow night. You know how Lady Townsend likes to open the Season with one of those ridiculous balls of hers.”
Ridiculous, indeed, but the Townsend ball was something that nobody in the ton ever dared to miss. Every unmarried young miss and her ambitious mama would be in attendance—as would every young buck looking for a wife.
Vivian and her mother would most certainly be there.
“I shall give it some thought,” Isaac mumbled.
“Give it alotof thought,” Daniel said cheerfully. “And do it in your townhouse—not in this hellhole. I reckon your valet would be pleased to see you emerge into civilization once more.”
He reckoned that his valet would have a lot to say the moment he stepped into his townhouse, but they would not be words of elation. If his valet could see him now, the poor man would be crying in despair.
But Daniel was right—if he wished to attend the Townsend ball, he would have to make himself more presentable. Besides, the invitation for the said ball would be sent to his townhouse, not in this nondescript loft where none of Society would dare tread.
“Very well,” the Earl grinned, putting his hat back on. “I shall see you tomorrow night. Miles will also be there—his mama has been persuading him to find a wife this Season, the poor man.”