Page 84 of Never Beguile a Duke

“Lennox was slow,” Roxburghe said with a chuckle. “I had to help him along as well.”

“Admiring the lady and winning her hand are two entirely different undertakings,” Silas replied, swallowing his next comment as voices drifted down the staircase into the corridor.

A moment later, Miss Venning and Miss Webb appeared. Roxburghe glided toward them, bowed, and offered both ladies an arm.

“Delightful to see you again, Miss Webb,” he said, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “I do hope you slept well.”

She blushed bright red, which Silas interpreted to mean that Miss Webb had spent her evening in Roxburghe’s bed and that sleep had not been an activity either of them pursued.

Not unlike myself and Miss Fernsby-Webb.

The only difference was Miss Webb had wanted and accepted Roxburghe’s proposal.

“Where is your sister?” Roxburghe asked as Miss Webb leaned into him. “Beaufort is inquiring after her.”

Silas bit his tongue to prevent a curse word from slipping out.

Miss Webb glanced at him, her face unreadable. “Winifred wasn’t feeling well this morning, and Amelia offered to stay with her if I promised to bring up some food after the meal.”

“Good morning, Miss Venning,” Warwick said, leaning around Silas. “I do hope your father isn’t also suffering from too much amusement. He promised me a game today during the hunt.”

“Father will be along shortly,” Miss Venning replied, a dusting of light pink appearing on her cheeks. “He was quite peeved to have lost last evening and is eager to play again. However, he requested my assistance this time, claiming he couldn’t read the cards due to his failing eyesight.”

“Please accept my apologies for my insensitivity,” Warwick said, limping closer. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have trounced him as badly.”

“Don’t let him fool you.” She released Roxburghe’s arm, strode forward, and met Warwick halfway across the foyer. “Father merely wants to confer with me before playing his hand.”

“Are you a fine piquet player?” Warwick offered his arm and escorted Miss Venning into the dining room.

“My father taught me,” she said, her voice fading. “Therefore, I should respond in the affirmative.”

The unmistakable baritone of Warwick’s laughter echoed in the corridor.

“Promising,” Miss Webb murmured as she and Roxburghe ambled toward the dining room.

“Indeed,” Roxburghe replied, winking at Silas. “We just need to find someone who isn’t repelled by Mansfield’s pragmatic personality.”

That discounted the dim-witted Sutton sisters.

“I have a suggestion,” Silas said, catching up to Roxburghe. “Juliette informed me that Mansfield and Lennox went sledding with her.”

“Sledding?” Roxburghe glanced back as they entered the dining room. “That’s intriguing. How did your daughter convince Mansfield to accompany her?”

“She didn’t.” Silas tilted his head toward several ladies clustered around the center of the table and lowered his voice. “His appearance was Mr. Braddock’s influence. But I was informed the sleds had to be shared and Miss Wilmington was Mansfield’s partner.”

Miss Webb clapped her hands together, her honey-hued eyes glowing. “An excellent proposal, Your Grace.”

He should feel some remorse for steering Miss Webb’s matchmaking interest toward Mansfield, but Silas was certain, given the opportunity, that Mansfield would have acted in kind, and truthfully, as Silas was already Cupid’s victim, he couldn’t think of any reason to prevent the infection from spreading to his remaining—unattached—friends.

Mansfield lifted his head as though he felt Silas’ gaze and scowled.

Pushing back his chair, Mansfield rose, then stalked over to them. “I wish to lodge a complaint with my host.”

“Regarding?” Silas exchanged a glance with Roxburghe.

“The bloody fool who woke me before sunrise, yelling about a spiderweb.”

Roxburghe turned away with a snort and escorted Miss Webb to the table, leaving Silas to deal with Mansfield’s irritation.