Page 130 of Never Beguile a Duke

Lennox leaned over Grisham’s shoulder. “Did the Duke of Cranbrook provide any guidance for preventing an impending murder?”

Grisham laughed. “He did not. However, he did give advice regarding our futures.”

Every man focused the whole of his attention on Grisham.

“When I invited you to become members of the Wayward Dukes’ Alliance, I never suspected it would take this long for love to find you. However, I’m pleased that Cupid has finally arrived in Wiltshire. As you journey forward through this next portion of life, the support you have for each other will prove immeasurably beneficial.”

Warwick plunked his glass on the table. “What of us unfortunate unmarried sots?”

“It’s your duty,” Grisham continued in a clear voice, “to guide the unattached members of your group toward the same happiness you now possess. Yours in faith, George St. Giles, Duke of Cranbrook.”

“That direction,” Mansfield said, striding toward Grisham and Lennox, “is in violation of the rules of our wager.”

“Encouraging a connection,” Grisham said, raising his head, “is not the same as duping a friend into marriage.”

“You wouldn’t,” Mansfield said, his gaze moving to the faces of each engaged man and finally landing on Warwick’s.

“They would,” Warwick replied with a grimace. “None of us thought Beaufort would fall.”

“I did,” Roxburghe said, lifting one finger and grinning. “Miss Webb swore to find matches for all of you.”

“She has no more sisters.” Warwick toyed with his glass. “And Miss Braddock only has one brother. Who else does your lovely fiancée consider to be a viable match?”

“She has not shared her scheme with me.” Roxburghe touched the side of his snifter to a discolored section of skin near his eye and winced. “If she did, per the terms of our wager, I’d be obligated to inform you of the plan.”

Silas set his empty glass on the small table. “Since the Duke of Cranbrook has instructed the betrothed members of our group to guide Warwick, Mansfield, and myself?—”

“You’re engaged!”

“It hasn’t been announced yet,” Silas replied, his mouth curving upward. “I will accept my guidance through the sacrifice of a wedding date.”

Lennox chuckled. “I doubt you wish to take mine.”

“I don’t.” Silas inclined his head. “However, Grisham and Roxburghe are sharing a day, and one of them could make the offering.”

Grisham crushed a corner of the missive and scowled at Silas. “I wasn’t involved when the wager was set. If anyone should guide by example, look to Roxburghe.”

“Still no,” Roxburghe replied, rolling the glass across his bruised cheek. “Even if you offered me another ten thousand pounds.”

“Fifty thousand?” asked Silas, arching his eyebrows.

“I attempted the same,” Lennox muttered with a shake of his head. “Neither man would accept a bribe, no matter the quantity I proposed. Perhaps they will bend to violence.”

“I appreciate your suggestion,” Silas said, returning to his position in front of the blazing fire. “However, Grisham and Roxburghe possess an advantage that I do not.”

“Which is?”

“They like to fight.”

Warwick’s hand came down on Roxburghe’s shoulder, holding him to his chair. “I have a solution that will end this squabbling. All four of you should stand up there.”

Silas grinned. “An excellent suggestion. But why not the six of us?”

“Neither Mansfield nor I is engaged.”

“Yet…”

“Perhaps,” Mansfield said, his dark eyes glowing, “you should leave room for one more couple.”