Page 20

"Mother, I believe it is best for you to retire for the night. Or at the very least, attend to the guests who might be waiting for you downstairs," his tone was polite but held no room for argument.

The Dowager knew her son well enough to not insist further.

"As you wish. I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow, however. There will be some new guests arriving, and I wish for you to meet them," she nodded before turning to leave.

"Good night, mother," he said, hearing her close the door softly on the way out.

As the sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway, Ambrose let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face.

He didn't blame his mother for her concern.

She had every right to worry about him. But he couldn't— wouldn't —put himself in a position where he might cause that kind of pain to someone else.

He knew what losing someone looked like.

And he couldn't bear the thought of someone losing him the way his mother had lost his father.

If being without a companion was the price to pay for that, then he would happily do so.

A few moments after Edith had left, the sound of a soft knock followed by the creak of the door startled Ambrose. He looked up, surprised to see his uncle, Lord Sebastian, standing in the doorway with a wide, mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite nephew!" Sebastian declared as he stepped into the room, brushing off the dust from his travel cloak. "I must say, I didn't expect to find you holed up in your study while the rest of the house is bustling with excitement."

"Uncle Sebastian," he said, rising from his chair. "I wasn't expecting you. What brings you to town?"

Sebastian waved his hand dismissively, as though the reason didn't matter. "I've just arrived from the countryside, decided it was time to pay a visit to the city. I was informed there was some house party..."

Ambrose chuckled, shaking his head as they exchanged a brief, but firm handshake. "Always full of surprises, Uncle."

"You know me," Sebastian replied with a wink, settling himself into a chair opposite Ambrose, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just arrived. "Life's too short to be predictable."

"I know that very well about you."

"On my way here," Sebastian began, leaning forward slightly, "I ran into the Duchess. She seemed... upset."

Ambrose sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know how it is with her," he said, his voice tired. "She wants me to marry. It's the same conversation every time we speak."

Sebastian threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the study. "Ah, marriage! It's the eternal struggle, isn't it? I understand completely. The number of times I was pressured into settling down... Well, let's just say I was quite the rake in my day."

His uncle's reputation as a notorious bachelor had been well-known for years, though he had eventually married in his later years. "I'm sure you gave everyone a proper run for their money," Ambrose said dryly.

"I did, indeed. But I'll tell you, it's no easy task when there are so many pretty women vying for attention. It's hard just to choose one, don't you think?"

Ambrose leaned back in his chair, his expression cooling slightly. "My problem is rather the opposite," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "It's not that I can't choose. It's that I find it difficult for a woman to hold my interest for long."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ah," he said, nodding slowly. "So it's not the abundance of choice, but the quality of the company that troubles you?"

Ambrose was not willing to admit to his uncle the deeper reasons as to why he wished to avoid marriage, so he nodded along. "You could say that."

Lord Sebastian raised his eyebrows, leaning forward with a grin.

"Perhaps your mother has a point, you know. You can't wait forever. The longer you wait, the harder it'll be to find someone who fits these... elusive standards of yours."

Ambrose gave a low chuckle. "Good," he said dryly, "that means I'll never find someone."

"Oh, Ambrose. You're impossible." He leaned back in his chair and continued, "But if you do marry, imagine the celebration! A grand wedding, all of London turning up for the event of the season. It'd be quite the spectacle. Now that would be something worth attending."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Uncle, but it's not likely to happen. I'm afraid it would take a miracle to get me to the altar."

"A miracle," his uncle repeated, "Or maybe just a particular kind of lady."

"I beg your pardon?" Ambrose asked, mildly curious.

"I remember from your teenage days when you visited in the summer.

You always seemed to get along with the most troublesome young women.

It was as though you were drawn to them—interested, even," Uncle Sebastian recounted.

"Has that changed at all? Perhaps the women that your mother is showing you are just not your taste. "

"Those days are behind me," he said, his voice more clipped than he intended. "I have no time for such frivolities now. My duties as Duke take precedence."

"Ah, yes. Duty. The ever-present excuse. But it's funny, isn't it? How certain... habits from childhood never quite go away."

Ambrose opened his mouth to dismiss the comment, but before he could speak, his thoughts involuntarily flashed to Daphne. Her sharp tongue, her fiery eyes, the way she always seemed to challenge him at every turn. There was something undeniably troublesome about her, and yet...

He pushed the thought away before it could take root. No. This was ridiculous.

Instead, Ambrose straightened his shoulders and forced a smile. "I think we've discussed enough of this drab topic for one evening, don't you?"

"If you say so."

"I'll arrange for a hunt tomorrow. Since you're here, it seems only right that we enjoy the estate's grounds," Ambrose suggested, eager to change the topic.

At that, Sebastian's face lit up with genuine excitement. "Ah! Now that's more like it. A good hunt will do us both some good. I do miss the thrill of it."

"Then it's settled. I'll have the men prepare everything first thing in the morning."