Page 51

51

Rupert

London, England

Rupert drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair he was slumped in, staring out into the sea of heads at Grambler’s Gentleman’s club. Looking for two taller-than-average heads of dark hair in particular. He glanced down at his pocket watch. He pressed his lips together and let out a loud breath through his nose. Thirty minutes past their agreed upon time.

Two tall, shadowed figures materialized from the hall that led to the private rooms of the club. Rupert’s body sagged, and his jaw popped open. They were late. Because they’d been with the club’s wenches! How infuriatingly predictable.

They casually ambled up to Rupert, both flushed in the face, a few of Derek’s overlong waves sticking to his skin with sweat. Rupert shook his head and lifted his brows at them.

“Rupe is displeased with us, Derek.”

Derek flashed a smirk. “It appears so, Rafe. He’s looking down his nose at us, even though he’s the one sitting.”

Rafe fell heavily into the chair to Rupert’s right, while Derek took the one to the left. “He always had a knack for looking like the most pompous arse in the room. Like he’d sucked on a lemon.” Rafe grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Rupert scowled. “I do not look like I’ve sucked on a lemon.”

Derek tossed his head back and forth, as though he was contemplating. Rupert scowled harder, and Derek barked out a laugh. “Perhaps not. But definitely a stick up your arse.”

Rupert looked heavenward.

“You’re right, Derek. It was always his mother who looked like she’d sucked on a lemon.”

Every muscle in Rupert’s body went rigid. He closed his eyes and took a slow, controlled breath. His hand trembled on the chair’s arm. Just hearing the word mother, any reference to her at all, immediately had every part of him locking up tight. Like his body was trying to shut out the betrayal.

“Rupe…”

Rupert’s eyes flashed open at Derek’s questioning tone. Derek’s gaze flitted to Rafe and back to Rupert.

“Is something amiss? When you wrote to meet us here…we assumed you were looking to go wenching.”

Lord, it was like Rupert was destined to always be frowning at his friends. “Why would I want to go wenching? I’m married.”

Rafe snorted.

Derek’s brows lifted to his hairline as he fought back a derisive laugh. “Since when does that mean a man stops wenching?”

Right. These two had very low opinions of the institution of marriage. “Yes, well. I see you beat me to said wenching, even if that were my purpose.”

Rafe’s chin jerked in, and his eyes stretched wide. He turned to Derek, mouth gaping open. “He… He thinks we can only go one round?” Rafe turned back to Rupert, sympathy shining in his grey eyes. “The shagging not going so well with the new wife?” He shook his head sadly at Rupert.

Rupert prayed for patience. “No. The shagging is going just fine. That really isn’t of import. I’m here because—”

“Just fine?” Derek exchanged a glance with Rafe. “This is worse than I thought.”

Rafe nodded succinctly. “And he said shagging’s of no import. You know what that means.”

Derek pursed his lips and eyed Rupert up and down. “I do, Rafe. It means he’s not doing it right.”

“Oh, bloody hell. Will you two stop and let me speak? The shagging is more than fine . Franny is… Well, you’re not getting any details. But trust me when I say there are absolutely no issues on that front. There are issues on the marriage front—a marriage I am very much happy to be in, with a wife I am very much in love with.”

Rafe and Derek grimaced. Rupert chose to ignore that.

“I am here because our marriage has been…threatened, and Franny’s name is being dragged through the mud. I need to combat it. And I need your help.”

Both men snapped straight.

“Who’s threatening you?”

“I know a cove who can dispose of people.”

Their words tumbled over each other, a mix of vehemence and resolve hurled in Rupert’s direction. He blinked at his friends. He wasn’t entirely certain who’d said what. But something odd happened in his chest. His heart ticked a tad faster, his lungs all of sudden not able to draw in quite enough air. Shite. That was a sting building behind his nose.

“Rupert… Are you… Are you crying?” Derek asked.

He glared at his friends—through slightly blurry vision. “No,” he said gruffly. “I am just appreciative that I have your support.” He didn’t have many people. His friends didn’t understand what it meant to him to have them in his corner. Especially after…

He blew out a breath and sagged into his chair. “My mother filed a petition for an annulment on my behalf. Without my knowledge or consent. Forged ,” he added bitterly. He dropped his gaze to the floor, studying the grain of the wood boards. “Fortunately, it will be denied. I cannot retract it—not without bringing awareness to what she did. And that would be a whole new bloody mess. But I’ve made discreet inquiries, and there is no legal basis for the claim.”

He lifted his gaze to his friends’ confused yet alert visages. “Franny is a bastard. The Earl is not her…true father. My mother tried to claim fraud. That we were deceived by Franny’s hidden bastard status. But there is no way to prove she is illegitimate, and since her mother birthed her while married to the Earl, for all intents and purposes—legally—he is her father. So, fortunately, the claim is essentially baseless. However, the scandal this will cause… My mother has already sown whispers among some of the biggest gossips of the ton.”

“Holy fucking shite, man,” Rafe muttered.

Derek was shaking his head. “And I thought my mother was a piece of work.”

Rupert smiled weakly. “I have…realized much over the past three weeks. Most of which my wife was able to open my eyes to.” His voice hardened. “I have exiled my mother to one of my most remote estates, far from society, far from me. And for now…” He paused, swallowing against the weight of it. “It is uncertain if she will ever return.”

He looked between his friends. Saw the pity there. And it slid into him and roiled in his gut. “You both knew, didn’t you?” he asked quietly. “What she was doing to me.”

Derek lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “That she sucked all the fun out of you? That she was the metaphorical stick up your arse? I suppose so. But you’re your own man—”

“That’s the thing, Derek,” Rupert said gravely. “I wasn’t. I was nothing but her pawn. No longer my own person. But that’s not the case any longer. And…” He paused, leaned forward. “My first order of business—once this ordeal has been settled—will be joining in with my two best mates on a foundling home.”

Rafe and Derek’s gazes shot to each other and then back to Rupert. “You’re in?” they said in unison.

Rupert nodded.

Their lips curled, identical sly smiles sliding up their faces, and they lifted their forearms and bumped them together.

Rafe leaned back and crossed his arms while Derek leaned forward, both their faces falling into serious masks. “All right, Rupe. What do you need our help with? We’re all ears.”

Rupert nodded stiffly. “So, my mother has already set tongues wagging with her little tidbits of deceit. I want there to be no mistaking that I stand with my wife, regardless of her true birth status. Neither of us give a damn about what this fact will do to our reputations. If I’m never allowed at a parliamentary session again, I’ll be the happiest man in the world. Because I have Franny.

“The entire ton can shun us for all we care. But I want each and every one of them to know that I love that woman. They can do as they wish, but they will do so knowing that woman is the most important thing in the world to me, and I don’t care if she’s the fucking Queen or a fucking milkmaid.”

Rafe’s lips twitched. “I like this new version of Rupe.”

Derek studied Rupert, his green eyes contemplative. “I don’t think this is a new version, Rafe. I think this is who Rupe’s been all along.”

Rafe rocked his head from side to side, his neck cracking. “I have a feeling I know where this is going.”

Rupert met Rafe’s eyes and nodded.

“I’ll speak with Grandmother. She will be thrilled to throw a ball,” Rafe said.

“And that you’ll attend,” Derek said, his lips quirking.

Rafe dipped his chin. “That too.”

Rupert’s shoulders relaxed, a tension he hadn’t realized he was holding, fleeing his person. “Thank you. We’ll gather whoever we can who resides in London. There won’t be many with it being held in July and all, but…”

Rafe’s grey eyes glinted, and he arched a brow. “Not one of them would dare miss a ball hosted by the dowager Duchess of Ironcrest.”

“I think this calls for drinks,” Derek said.

“What doesn’t call for drinks?” Rafe asked, side-eying Derek.

Derek’s lips twitched. “Amen.” He lifted a hand, signaling for a footman. “But this in particular. A toast to the real Rupert. Finally free.”

A footman appeared with a decanter and three glasses full of amber liquid.

Rupert smiled softly. Finally free. “Just one glass for me.” He bit back his grin, one he knew his friends would rib him for if he let slip. “I have a wife I am quite eager to get back to.”

The three of them clinked glasses, and a bit of devilry sparked in Derek’s green gaze. “Perhaps he is doing the shagging right,” Derek mused. “ Eager are we?”

Rupert stared into his whisky and let his grin break free. “Bloody fucking eager,” he murmured.

Derek barked out a laugh, and Rafe snorted. And Rupert…Rupert felt the lightest he had in a very, very long time. He had the love of his life, his two best friends, and himself . And that was everything he needed.