Page 6 of The Duke’s Absolutely Fantastic Fling (The Notorious Briarwoods #15)

T here was no doubt in Teague’s mind that his brothers were having a much better time in the ballroom surrounded by English people than he was. He was in a smaller room that was still quite luxurious and clearly designed for men to relax in, but he was still surrounded by English people.

Candlelight danced over them, spilling from their tall white sticks stuck in the silver candelabras strewn about the room.

This group of English people was quite small. There were just three men, Briarwood men, men he enjoyed immensely, men who had recently visited him in Scotland, and yet here he felt more like an animal being hunted. The stag on the chase whilst the hunters and the dogs followed quickly behind.

He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but he still couldn’t quite shove the nerves from his stomach, which was an odd thing, given how large and powerful he was. He was a duke, he was Scottish, he was over six feet tall, he had a great deal of money, and he was self-possessed.

Yet he was surrounded by some of the most self-possessed, wild, interesting, and unapologetic men alive, which was why he liked them.

Their attitudes were another reason to marry Josephine.

Oh, he wanted her for herself, but he also liked her family.

He had since the moment he’d met his first Briarwood on the Continent.

And despite his current nerves, he was damned grateful he’d invited Octavian to visit Scotland with most of his family.

Anyone who didn’t want to become a Briarwood or at least be attached to the Briarwoods was, in Teague’s mind, to be suspected. He looked from man to man, trying to assess what exactly the point of this conversation was.

Surely, it wasn’t to warn him off. He was an excellent match.

But he had been kissing her in a public space where anyone might catch them, and that was, indeed, bad form.

The ballroom was full of all sorts of people.

It was not a private family gathering where any scandal could be easily hidden or swept out of view.

The large Englishmen had sat him down in a chair, which in itself felt like the beginning of an interrogation, but then Lord Ajax Briarwood, a behemoth of a man with blond hair traced with a few silver strands, thrust a glass of whisky into his hand.

“It’s from your country,” Ajax announced with a touch too much joviality. “So it shall be superior and likely you will enjoy it.”

“We shall see,” Teague returned as he took the offered glass.

“It’s not poisoned,” Hector said brightly.

“Good to know, as I still have things to do,” Teague replied with a salute of the cut crystal snifter.

He took a sip of the burning liquid. It touched his tongue and he found himself letting out a sigh of appreciation and relief that he was drinking whisky and not being pummeled for kissing their niece.

“Don’t be tense, old boy,” said Ajax. “We are not going to eat you, cook you, or bury you today . Though discussing it does give us a great deal of pleasure. Every poor man who hopes to marry a Briarwood woman must be subject to this line of conversation. So there is no need to fear imminent death.”

“Though death does come to us all,” added Lord Zephyr.

Teague grimaced. It was true. Death was an ever-present figure for everyone, and anyone who forgot that was not living life as they should.

“What exactly are you hoping to help me understand?” Teague asked. “By this meeting of minds?”

Ajax smiled at him. “Poor, poor man. You have chosen to marry a young lady who was raised in the cradle of Briarwood women.” Ajax tsked.

“My own wife has become a Briarwood by marriage. Now, she too has the power of Briarwood women running through her. For she has been given a great many lessons on how to essentially tell everyone to sod off. I’m deeply grateful for it. She needed that.”

“Josephine,” put in Hector. “She certainly has grown in our family, and I think Ajax does not mean exactly what he said. You are lucky to get to have a Briarwood woman in your life as a wife.”

Ajax frowned. “Oh dear. Did I give the impression that anyone would be unlucky to have a Briarwood lady as their wife?”

“You did,” Hector said.

Lord Zephyr let out a laugh. “Ajax, you have always been rather blunt and sometimes had to retract and apologize in the past when your words have become tangled.”

Ajax narrowed his eyes. “No, I haven’t. I just blunder through. It’s the only way to get by in this life.”

His brothers grinned at him.

Teague watched as the three men bandied back and forth, and he had a rather strong idea that this was not quite…

right. He would wager that Lord Ajax was as capable of apologizing as any of his brothers, which was a trait he found rare in powerful men.

And yet he enjoyed what Ajax was insisting upon, even if it wasn’t exactly correct.

The sentiment of strong women taking their men in hand was not at all undesirable.

He arched a brow. “I still don’t understand the point of this.”

Much to his surprise, the three tall brothers turned as one and locked their gazes on him, almost as if they had forgotten he was present for a moment.

Zephyr cleared his throat.

Hector winced. “How best to say this. Old chap, we—”

“We don’t want you to lose her is what we’re trying to say,” Ajax cut in.

“Lose her?” he queried, astonished.

“Exactly so,” Hector said. “You see, you are special, which is why she said yes, but then she said no.”

Hector winced.

Zephyr’s eyebrows rose and he let out a loud guffaw of a laugh. “Just like Briarwoods to keep one on their toes,” he said.

Teague sat straight in the high-backed, elaborately carved chair. “Ooh, I plan on winning her over.”

“Don’t you do that,” said Hector abruptly, his eyes rounding with alarm.

Teague frowned. “Why not? Shouldn’t a lady be wooed and courted?”

“Of course, a lady should be wooed and courted,” Ajax professed, grandly pouring himself and his brothers snifters of whisky. “But I suggest you don’t just think of our Josephine as a lady.”

“I beg your pardon?” Teague managed.

“Hear him out,” suggested Zephyr with a wink.

“Really, it’s in your best interest,” added Hector with a nod.

Ajax passed out the snifters to his brothers, then lifted his own and contemplated the amber hue before declaring, “Think of Josephine as a cat.”

“That seems like a terrible idea,” Teague rasped.

“It isn’t,” said Hector with surprising enthusiasm.

“Consider a cat. There are dog-like people and there are cat-like people. Dog-like people need continual affirmation. They love to be told that they are good. They want to be seen as lovely. They like to be petted and praised. Whereas cat-like people really almost don’t care that you exist, needing only occasional attention and well… ”

“You suggest that Josephine is like that?” Teague exclaimed, trying to make sense of the terribly odd conversation.

“Oh, yes,” Zephyr said.

“You want me to ignore her?” he asked rather forcefully.

Ajax’s jaw dropped, appalled. “Bloody hell. Have you ears?”

“I think so,” replied Teague.

“Do they work?” asked Hector.

“Cleary not in the way you hope,” he ground out. “Would one of you please explain what Ajax is getting at?”

“Happy to, old thing,” assured Hector, tugging at his embroidered waistcoat. “She has been raised with enough self-approval that she does not need it from anyone else. So if you pursue her and try to woo her, as most gentlemen would, she will, cat-like, give you her back and be most annoyed.”

“I suggest that you live so well and so fully,” Ajax supplied, “that she is drawn to you.”

Didn’t he already live well and fully? He had assumed so. But now he wondered.

He stared at the three men. “This doesn’t feel like good advice,” he began.

“Well,” mused Zephyr, “that’s because you are thinking in terms of a regular lady.”

“Am I?” Teague queried, feeling a bit at sea. He took a large drink of whisky and welcomed the burn.

“Oh, yes,” Hector said.

“But don’t you think that I…”

“No,” Ajax overrode. “I do not think. Do you want to marry her?”

“I do want to marry her.”

Hector eyed him knowingly “And didn’t she make it rather clear that she wasn’t entirely certain if the marriage was going to happen?”

“Yes,” he said, though he was loath to admit it. “She did.”

He hesitated, then dared to admit to these men who had a way of drawing him out of himself that no others had. “It was most galling.”

For a heavenly moment, he had been sure that she had agreed, but then she had backtracked rather furiously and artfully.

It was a strange set of affairs. He realized, in a way, she was doing it for him, for both of them, to make certain they didn’t end up in a terrible marriage, but he wanted her to simply say yes.

He wanted to have her. He wanted it to be done.

He wanted to be secure in the knowledge that no one else would get in the way.

But now he wondered if the whole family was getting in the way.

“I had a plan,” he gritted.

“We don’t do plans,” Hector said simply.

“Plans always end up getting changed,” Zephyr said as if he was shocked Teague would even suggest such a thing.

“Yes, but shouldn’t one have a set of goals?” Teague argued, refusing to give over to the total chaos the brothers seemed to be promoting. It wasn’t exactly as if he and his own brothers were the souls of piety and sober living. Even so, they did not throw their fates to the wind.

“Goals are fine,” Ajax said. “But just realize that her idea of happiness and your idea of happiness could be two entirely different things.”

He frowned. “I feel lost.”

“Then you’re learning,” declared Hector.

“Bravo,” added Zephyr, applauding.

“Aren’t you glad you have us to guide you?” Ajax asked with a mischievous curl of his lip.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he replied honestly, tempted to drain his whisky to the dregs.