The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(12)

Nothing he said could’ve put Bran more at ease. “Me neither, and I feel precisely the same.” He lifted his glass in silent toast.

Kendal inclined his head as a rap on the door interrupted the moment. He glanced toward the sound. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few friends to join us.”

Bran immediately tensed. A “few friends” wasn’t a crowd, but they were still strangers, and right now he was just beginning to feel comfortable with the one stranger. Former stranger, he supposed.

“Of course not,” he fibbed. “I won’t be staying much longer.” He drank more of his whiskey, not quite draining the glass.

“Hell, I didn’t mean to drive you away.” Kendal peered at Bran with curiosity. “I can ask them to go. They’re good sorts, and they’ll bugger off if I tell them to.”

So far, Bran had enjoyed Kendal’s company, so he decided to at least try. If he grew uncomfortable, he’d leave. “Well, if they’re the type you can tell to bugger off, how can I leave?”

Kendal smiled as another knock sounded. “Come!”

The footman opened the door, and three men filed inside.

“It’s about damned time,” a dark-haired gentleman with an athletic build said with a grin.

“We were in the middle of a discussion,” Kendal said, his eyes narrowing, but his tone laced with humor. “And how the hell did the three of you arrive together?”

“I picked them up,” the other dark-haired gentleman said. He wore a sardonic smile and possessed the self-aware gaze of someone who knew precisely who he was and made no excuses. Bran had hoped to carry that same air someday, but had given up at the age of twelve when he’d been declared utterly hopeless by his family.

Kendal looked to Bran. “Knighton, allow me to present the Duke of Clare.” He pointed to the confident gentleman who’d just spoken. “We call him West, and whether he gives you leave or not, you will too. And that is the Earl of Dartford. We call him Dart.” He indicated the other one who’d spoken before gesturing to the third gentleman, a tall blond. “Finally, this is the Earl of Sutton. He’s just Sutton. And sometimes a pain in the ass. But then they all are.”

Dartford adopted an innocent stare. “I thought that’s why you liked us.”

Kendal rolled his eyes even as he quirked a smile. “Pour yourselves some whiskey, and refill our glasses while you’re at it.”

Clare—rather, West—bowed. “At your service, Your Grace.” He crossed to the sideboard and prepared the drinks.

Sutton came forward and shook Bran’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I understand we should welcome you back to England.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’m sorry for the losses that led to your current situation.” Sutton’s tone held an earnest, thoughtful quality that had been lacking in Talbot’s comments earlier.

“No one’s sorrier than me,” Bran said.

“Of that I’m certain. Family is the most important thing.”

Bran couldn’t agree more—as it pertained to Evie. With regard to the rest of his family, he felt the complete opposite. His mother was due to arrive in the next week or so, and just thinking of seeing her threatened to send him into a fit of itching. So he chose not to think of it.

West handed glasses to Sutton and Dartford, then refilled Kendal’s and Bran’s. The decanter came up empty. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” West said.

Kendal waved a hand. “There’s another over there, and the footman will refill it.” He shot an amused look at Bran. “Or we can send for a case of rum at Knighton’s house, which he’s promised me.”

Dartford’s eyebrows rose. “Rum, you say?”

“From my distillery on Barbados.”

“If you find an extra case lying around, send it my way,” West said. “Lord knows I can use the spirits right now. Ivy’s wearing me out. What is it about carrying a child that makes a woman insatiable?”

The three men took various seats, Dartford sprawling on one end of a settee. He sipped his whiskey, and his mouth twitched up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, West,” Dartford said. “I should think you’d like that, given your predilections.” Dartford looked at Bran. “He has the most charming nickname. Everyone calls him the Duke of Desire.”

Bran would’ve cringed at such a thing, but West’s lips curved into a self-satisfied smile.

“He used to have a rather rakish reputation,” Dartford explained. “But now he’s a devoted husband with an apparently demanding wife.” He arched a brow at West. “I shouldn’t complain if I were you. You will get to a point where your wife is so uncomfortable that the merest indication of sexual interest will send her into a rant.”

Kendal nodded. “Nora was like that with Becky, but more like West’s wife with Christopher. We’ll see what happens this time.” He waggled his brows as his pride-filled smile unfurled.

This news was met with hearty congratulations from everyone.

“Let me understand,” Bran said. “You,” he pointed at Kendal, “and you,” he pointed to West, “and you,” he pointed to Dartford, “are all expecting children?”