Page 2 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Lucas Berkeley, heir to the Cheltenham Marquessate, sat in his best friend’s drawing room with back stiff and eyes lingering on the exit.

His other close friend, Henry, leaned close, his relaxed demeanor the usual contrast to Lucas’s just as much as his shorter, trim figure was to Lucas’s tall and broad one. “You’re wishing to leave already, aren’t you?”

Lucas quirked a brow at him.

Henry raised his glass in salute and downed the contents. “No need to say it outright. Your wish to escape is evident even without your confirmation.” He set his glass on a low table and sat back into the comfortable couch.

Lucas shook his head. “I am simply . . .”

“Yes, yes, wishing to leave. I thought we’d already established that.”

Despite himself, Lucas chuckled.

Henry grinned. “If you need a distraction, I can provide one.” He glanced around, the cogs in his brain obviously turning. “With your height and my superior brainpower—”

“Superior?” Lucas cut in dryly.

Henry wore a smug smile as he patted Lucas on the knee consolingly. “As I said. Do not worry; you will always have your stoic sort of charm to attract women.”

“Not my title?” The three matchmaking mamas in his mother’s sitting room that morning had not seemed to care much for his stoicism. They also had not cared for his early departure from their—uh, pleasant company.

“Oh, that will help too. Now, my plan to aid your escape.”

Lucas shrugged off thoughts of matchmaking and crossed his arms. The action pulled at a sore spot on his shoulder. “I am not sure I want any part in whatever scheme you can concoct just now.”

“Just now?” Henry cocked his head. “What do you mean by that?”

Lucas looked pointedly at Henry’s glass, which was empty, as had been the two before it. And it was hardly past the noon hour.

Henry shrugged him off. “I’ll have you know I hold my liquor far better than either you or James.”

Thankfully, James took that moment to enter the room. His dark hair was similar to Henry’s, but his height was far closer to Lucas’s. “My apologies. Katherine required three stories before she’d allow Nurse to put her down for her nap.” He lowered himself into a chair.

Henry set his empty glass down. “You’re adorably domesticated, James.”

“Happily too.” James grinned, leaning back into the plush armchair.

James’s wife had clearly gone for comfort when decorating the room, though it was stylish in its way, with large paintings on the wall and comfortable groupings of chairs and low tables.

Or Lucas assumed it was. Truly, he hadn’t a clue what was in fashion and what was not.

He’d always left that to the women in his life, just as he’d leave future decorating to his future wife—once he determined to find one.

“Where is Kate?” Henry asked, referencing James’s wife.

“Shopping. With your sister, I would add,” James said to Henry. “I’m surprised you did not know.”

It was brief, yet Lucas thought he saw Henry grimace. But then his mouth lifted lazily. “I am not Julia’s nursemaid, and she is not mine. It is the best sort of familial relationship.”

It was Lucas’s growing opinion that Henry could, in fact, use a bit of additional supervision, but he did not voice the thought.

Instead, he looked to James. “I am sorry to interrupt your afternoon, but when Mother heard you and Kate had arrived in town, she insisted I deliver your invitation to her ball personally. I’ve already given Henry his.

” He gestured to the folded missive on the low table between them.

James scooped it up. “It’s never an interruption. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” James said, tucking the invitation into his jacket.

“But not me?” Henry cut in.

“You were staying at our estate up until a fortnight ago.”

“And a fortnight is far too long for anyone to be without my company.” Henry sighed, laying a hand over his chest.

James shook his head with a small smile. His personality was generally closer to Lucas’s sedate demeanor than Henry’s flamboyant one. “How did you two come to be here at the same time?”

“I saw Lucas’s carriage and hailed him down. I knew he must be missing me even more fiercely than you, James.”

“I tried to pretend I did not see him, but the coachman slowed nonetheless.” Lucas shrugged.

Henry kicked him on the side of his leg or tried to—Lucas saw it coming and lifted his foot in the air until it was clear.

James chuckled lightly. “How is your brother?”

“He has yet to incur any major debts or become entangled in any unfortunate situations.” Which was a miracle with Charlie, it seemed.

“And how long have you been in London?”

“Only a week. So I am sure misfortune will soon strike.”

“That’s the spirit,” Henry said, using that moment as an excuse to stand and refill his drink. He tossed a question over his shoulder to James. Lucas watched them converse without participating or even really attending.

Tension radiated across Lucas’s neck for no apparent reason. He clenched and unclenched his hands, hoping to force his body to relax. It made no sense for him to be uncomfortable with two of his best friends, and yet, here he was itching to escape.

The discomfort grew until he needed to be mobile, distracted. He jumped to his feet. “Unfortunately, I cannot stay long.” Henry shot him a knowing look, but Lucas ignored it. “Henry, do you need a ride home?”

“Nah. I’ll impose on James a little longer if only to see his adorable daughter after her nap.”

“She is adorable, isn’t she?” James beamed. Something in James’s happiness increased Lucas’s discomfort.

So with a quick nod, he saw himself from the home, feeling relieved to be leaving yet guilty to have the feeling at all.

It was not that he wasn’t happy to be in the company of his closest friends.

He was. But lately, discontent had seeped into the cracks of his life, and he was not certain exactly why.

Except that maybe seeing James move forward in life while Lucas did no such thing was discouraging.

Or maybe that being with his friends evoked memories of being with his sister.

Marietta had loved joining him, Henry, and James for their escapades and entertainments.

Something that would never happen again, thanks to Lucas.

He entered his carriage, rolling his shoulders back—the twinge in his right one reminding him of the night before. Of the fight he’d had to break up. That woman who’d arrested his attention with her light hair and piercing gaze.

But the flashing memory was fleeting, quickly overwhelmed by all he needed to accomplish.

He had his mother’s ball to help with, several meetings to arrange, discussions with his father to attend, Charlie to keep an eye on.

And then there was the property Father had tasked him with overseeing, not to mention the club’s expenditures to review, and his increasing need to employ the plan he’d devised to find a respectable wife.

The mental list grew, and as it did, it provided a sense of security. The mundane needs of life were safer than delving into his own muddled emotions. He could handle a list. He could control that.