Page 25 of I Never Forget a Duke (The Night Fire Club #1)

“The expression on your face,” said Lark. He sighed. “I believe you are much on his mind.”

“True,” said Fletcher. “He sent me to make sure you knew he wanted to see you again.”

“But to what end?” she asked. “Will he cease being a duke?”

Lark appreciated her understanding of the reality of the situation.

Hugh was too besotted and used to getting his way to understand that this would not end as he expected it to.

But Adele knew her place in the world. Lark did not see much wisdom in letting them pine after each other, although he supposed it was too late now.

Adele frowned. “He sent you to protect me, didn’t he?”

Fletcher shrugged.

“I suppose that is significant,” she said. “It does not change our circumstances, though.”

Lark spotted Anthony walk across the room. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

Fletcher engaged Adele in conversation while Lark went after Anthony. He found Anthony amiably greeting Lord Wakefield. When Wakefield moved on to greet another guest, Lark approached.

“You sought me out this time,” Anthony said.

“I wanted to greet you.”

“Until three weeks ago, you acted annoyed that I was even in your presence, and yet now you come to say hello like we are good friends.”

“Are we not good friends? Are you irritated with me?”

Anthony smiled. “No, not at all. Just making an observation.” He motioned for Lark to follow him and they left the ballroom and entered a hallway.

A few other men were about, which led Lark to conclude that Wakefield had set up a room for cigars and cards down this way.

Indeed, the Marquess of Blandford passed Lark and entered the room down the hall.

He was greeted by a masculine cheer and then the door was closed again.

Lark sighed. “I would very much like to leave this place, but I think I may need to keep an eye on the object of Hugh’s affection.”

“Canbury’s daughter?”

“Indeed.”

“I saw them dance together earlier.” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “You know, you never told me exactly what happened while Hugh convalesced.”

Lark cursed. He hadn’t intended to divulge Hugh’s secrets to Anthony—whom he trusted, but whose tongue wagged more than Eugenia Sackville’s—but he’d let his guard down.

“Don’t beat yourself up too much. I inferred based on your inquiries about Canbury and Hugh’s absence that he actually spent a week with her instead of in the country.”

“It’s not how it sounds. It is, in fact, entirely chaste. I will tell you, but you must not tell a soul.”

“I would never.”

Lark didn’t believe him, but he said, “Hugh sustained a head injury that caused him to lose consciousness. Lady Adele discovered him much out of his senses and brought him into her home.”

“And now he’s infatuated with her.”

“Precisely.”

Anthony nodded. “I’ve heard of this kind of thing happening before. A school mate of mine took a shot to the leg at Waterloo. He has since married the battlefield nurse who brought him back to health.”

“So you think it might just be an infatuation based on the fact that she took care of him when he was ill?”

“It’s possible. It may be more than an infatuation. I imagine he’s developed a tendre for her. Just as I’m sure you have a softness for certain past lovers. The first woman you ever bedded. The first man.”

Lark frowned at that. He did remember both vividly. He’d never imagined himself in love with either, as he now suspected Hugh considered himself with Adele. “Surely he must know that a softness for the woman who cared for him while he was ill is not the basis for a sustainable marriage.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I know you would never do anything so sentimental as to fall in love. But some men do not have your iron disposition.”

Lark knew he was being teased but refused to respond. “The dowager duchess would never allow it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think Lady Adele would allow it either, frankly. She is too practical.”

Anthony rocked on his heels. “Remind me again of her position?”

“She is the Countess of Sweeney’s paid companion. I believe she feels loyalty to her mistress and will not leave her even if Hugh does something so daft as to propose.”

“I heard it from Lord Melvin who heard it from John Sweeney that the countess is at death’s door. Hasn’t gotten out of bed in three weeks.”

Lark crossed his arms. “Earlier tonight I called Eugenia Sackville the biggest gossip of the ton , but you have her beat. How did you come to be speaking to Lord Melvin about the Earl of Sweeney?”

Anthony laughed. “Are you jealous?”

“Hardly. It was just a question.”

“If you must know, I ran into Melvin at the club a few days ago. We were catching up on the comings and goings of our various mutual acquaintances. He mentioned Sweeney is on his way back to town in anticipation of his mother’s demise.”

“Charming.”

“Sweeney is rarely in town these days, so it must be serious.”

“I don’t really know Sweeney.”

“He’s broke, for one thing. Likes to bet on cards and rarely wins. Not to mention, I’ve heard his estate is not terribly profitable these days. His wheat crop failed on account of this cool we’re having.”

Lark’s own main line of income came from the tenants who lived on the country estate he’d purchased with family money a few years before, and he stood to inherit the rest of his family’s holdings when he inherited the dukedom now possessed by his father.

This was how most of the British gentry made money these days; England’s greatest asset was land, after all.

Hugh himself owned five estates, two of them entailed.

And when land ran out in Britain, some aristocrats had turned to British colonies.

And thus Hugh’s cousin owned a plantation in Jamaica, and he was hardly the only British lord to own land in the Caribbean.

“Enough of this nonsense,” said Anthony. “Will you come home with me tonight?”

“My mother is here. I must escort her home.”

Anthony looked around. “’Tis a pity this hallway is not more private. Perhaps there is a cupboard or somewhere we can hide.”

“I should get back.”

Anthony leaned against the wall and looked wistful. “Imagine if I were allowed to freely show you affection without the risk of being hanged.”

“Even if one of us were a woman, it would still be inappropriate.”

“I saw you waltz with Lady Matilda when I arrived.” Anthony looked down. “I would have given anything to be in your arms instead of her.”

“She’s my cousin, you know.”

Anthony shook his head. “That wasn’t my point. I do not anticipate you taking up with Lady Matilda. I knew she was your cousin. But I should like to waltz with you sometime.”

Something in his tone wrapped around Lark’s heart and squeezed. “Anthony…”

Anthony’s gaze went to Lark’s lips and Lark worried for a moment that Anthony would kiss him just as a number of other men walked down the hallway. But instead, Anthony said softly, “I’ll be at the Berkley Square house tonight.”

Lark sighed. “I’ll be there once I see to my mother.”

Anthony nodded.

The Duke of Rutland walked by then. He was Lark’s first cousin, the son of his father’s sister and only three years older than Lark. They’d been close as boys, though did not see much of each other these days. Now he paused to greet Lark and Anthony. Then he said, “Who invited Canbury?”

Lark braced himself for whatever was coming. Anthony chuckled and said, “I imagine Wakefield felt obligated. I believe they are school chums.”

“He is pretty deep in his cups,” Rutland reported. “Hamilton is trying to at least steer him out of the company of women.”

“What is he doing?”

“Well, it started with him mostly bragging about his relationship with Prinny, but now he’s telling bawdy stories to a crowd of interested young men.

The Dowager Duchess of Swynford registered her disgust before asking Lady Wakefield to ask him to leave, although neither she nor Wakefield has budged to make him.

I think Wakefield is, in fact, enjoying his bawdy stories, despite how inappropriate they are in mixed company. ”

That was certainly terrible news. The dowager witnessing Canbury’s bad behavior herself would not make her much disposed to Lady Adele.

Rutland shook his head. “I’ve heard he devotes the time he used to give his wife to Parliament.”

“Caernarfon tells me as much,” said Lark.

Rutland smiled. “Ah, yes. I forgot he took his father’s seat. Lord help him.”

“I think he secretly enjoys parliamentary procedure. We all need a hobby.”

Anthony put a hand over his mouth but was clearly laughing.

“And what of Swynford? I read in the papers that he vanished for a week, and yet here he is.”

“He was ill, it turns out. Forgot to tell his mother he was leaving town to recuperate at his country home.”

Rutland nodded. “Ah, yes. I once forgot to tell my mother I was escorting my wife to the opera, and it was one of those nights that the opera had a guest prima donna from Sweden. I can’t recall her name, but I understand she is quite famous on the Continent.

Well, anyway, the crowd that night was even more of a crush than usual and my wife and I were detained trying to leave.

Mother was hysterical by the time we returned home.

She thought we’d been kidnapped and murdered.

” He chuckled. “This is what I get for letting my mother stay with us while our children are young. Let that be a warning to you.”

Lark exchanged a glance with Anthony, who still looked amused.

“How are you fellows?” Rutland asked. “Headed for Wakefield’s cigar room?”

“I will momentarily,” said Anthony. “I saw Camden go in there and I am eager to relieve him of a few of his coins.”

Lark raised an eyebrow.

“What? Camden won a hundred pounds from me last week at the Effington fete. It is only fair.”

“Right. I would like to check on Swynford.” To Rutland, Lark said, “The society mamas have been quite all over him tonight. He may be in need of rescue.”

Rutland laughed. “That doesn’t stop until you say ‘I do’ to the vicar, alas. Having been through it a few seasons ago, I do not envy Swynford.”

Lark said farewell to his cousin and Anthony and then steeled himself to go back in the ballroom.