Lady Gone Wicked (Wicked Secrets)(25)

Nick nodded. This was good news, indeed.

Montrose paused, appearing to consider his next words carefully before he spoke. “There is the issue of your father. You understand that this is a rather delicate conundrum, a second son being ranked higher than his father. It makes some of the other peers uneasy. It would go a long way for Wintham to express public support.”

Again Montrose paused, giving Nick the opportunity to speak.

Nick said nothing.

“So long as he does not oppose you, there is no cause for alarm. The letters patent will be signed.” Montrose crossed his legs and reclined slightly. “Still, there are whispers of an estrangement. You must be very careful over the next few weeks to keep all scandal at bay. Until your title is secure, you must be an exemplary gentleman.”

Nick considered all the peers he knew and quirked his lips.

“Yes, I see the irony, as well.” Montrose smiled slightly. “So much is forgiven when one is titled.”

“I shall do my very best. You have done much for me, and I will not dishonor you.”

Montrose waved his hand. “Nonsense. You saved my life. But this title is an award for your service to country and crown. You have earned it with blood. Still, that will not be enough for the peerage if a scandal should arise.” He hesitated, again seeming to choose his words with great care. “Many have seen you in the company of Miss Bursnell.”

Ah, he had wondered if Montrose would mention her.

Nick kept his face blank. “Miss Bursnell is hardly scandalous,” he said, aware that his statement was only truthful so long as no one ever discovered their past. “Nor is my friendly interest in her.”

“Friendly interest.” Something flashed in the duke’s eyes. “Are you courting her?”

Nick could hardly deny it, when he had sworn to do that very thing. Yet he did not want to scare the man off. “I have not yet decided. We have only recently become acquainted, you understand.”

“Hmm.”

“A man could do worse.” Nick wiped his mouth with a napkin and studied the duke. “Her dowry is good, as is her family. And her brother-in-law will one day be Earl of Wintham.”

“And she would be the Marchioness of Rain.”

“She would have you to thank for that.” Nick paused. But why hesitate? He had made his decision. Now he must act. “Any man would call himself fortunate to marry such a girl. Even, perhaps, a duke…”

Montrose was quiet for a long moment. Then said, “I have given some thought to marriage of late. An heir is not yet impossible. I would indeed be fortunate to marry Miss Bursnell, for she is sweet and I think we would get on well together. But perhaps she has different hopes for a husband.” He shrugged. “I am well aware that a dukedom only goes so far. I am so much older—although I must confess I don’t feel as old as the mirror claims I am. If a younger marquess, for example, were to offer for her, she would likely find that to be a more palatable option.”

“She does not know that I am to be a marquess.”

“Perhaps, then, you will not tell her…” Montrose suggested.

Nick gave him a penetrating look.

The duke grimaced. “Not very sporting of me, I know. But we are friends. I find myself unwilling to ask you to quit the field completely, but perhaps you would not mind a small handicap?”

Nick swallowed, and forced himself to say, “I have no horse in this race. The lady is yours for the wooing.” But the words tasted foul in his mouth.

“Thank you.” The duke scraped back his chair and stood. “I bid you good day, Eastwood.”

Nick watched him go.

A strange feeling of loss consumed him, as though he had tossed away something precious. Which was nonsense, of course.

Whatever he had lost should never have been his to begin with.





Chapter Twenty


St. Helena’s Tavern and Tea Garden was just the sort of place one would wish to spend a lovely spring afternoon. The Ladies’ Garden Club met there every Thursday to discuss gardening matters, although what such matters entailed, Adelaide could not say, since none of the ladies in attendance seemed at all interested in gardening.

Still, it was delightful to stroll among the lilies and roses in the warm sunshine, even if one was exhausted from the consequences of an unexpected midnight visitor. She stifled a yawn with one gloved hand as she walked between Lady Claire Harrison and Lady Margaret Gaither on the dirt path. Ahead of them, Alice had paired with Miss Benton.

“You are very popular for being in London such a short time, Miss Bursnell,” Lady Margaret said as they strolled. “It is surprising to see someone of your years make such an impression, but men are such fickle creatures, aren’t they? One never knows what new nonsense they will follow.”

Was the woman implying that Adelaide was old? And…nonsense?

She furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Come now. Why the false modesty? I heard you caught the attention of both Duke Wessex and Duke Montrose.” Lady Margaret clucked her tongue. “You mustn’t be greedy. Dukes are a rare breed, you understand. There aren’t enough to go around.”

Adelaide gaped at the other woman. She wished she could find something cutting to say. Alice would know just the thing. But all she could manage was a startled “Pardon?”