Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord (Love By Numbers #2)(5)

Rock smirked. “It is entirely possible that he would have been doing just that without the invitation.”

Nick ignored his friend. “Callie reads the damned thing? “ He had hoped his sister-in-law was above such things. If she had read it, there was no escape.

Gabriel leaned forward. “This week? We have all read it. You’ve brought respectability to the St. John name, Nick. Finally. Well done.”

The barmaid returned then, setting another round of drinks on the table; surprise flashed in her eyes, followed quickly by pleasure as she looked to Nick, then Gabriel, then back again. Twins were rare enough that strangers tended to stare when the St. John brothers ventured into public together; Nick found he had no patience for her curiosity. He looked away as Gabriel paid the girl handsomely, saying, “Of course, those women who coveted me must be thrilled to have a second chance of sorts—title or no, you at least share my good looks. If a younger, lesser version of them.”

Nick’s blue gaze narrowed on his brother and friend, now guffawing like idiots. Lifting his ale, he toasted the duo. “May you both go straight to hell.”

His brother lifted his own tankard. “I do believe it would be worth it to see you so put out. You know, it is not the worst of things to be labeled an eligible bachelor, Nick. I can attest to the fact that marriage is not the prison I once believed it to be. It is quite enjoyable, I find.”

Nick leaned back in his chair. “Callie’s turned you soft, Gabriel. Do you not recall the pain caused by clamoring mamas and cloying daughters, all hoping to secure your attention? ”

“Not remotely.”

“That is because Callie was the only woman willing to have you with your history of wickedness and vice,” Nick pointed out. “My reputation is rather less tarnished than yours was—I am a far more valuable catch, Lord help me.”

“Marriage might do you well, you know.”

Nick considered his ale long enough for his companions to think that he might not reply. “I think we all know that marriage is not for me.”

Gabriel offered a small, noncommittal grunt. “I might remind you that the same was true for me. Not all women are like the cold bitch who saw you nearly killed, Nick,” Gabriel said firmly.

“She was merely one of a long line of them,” Nick pointed out, drinking deep. “Thank you, but I have learned to keep my women to the best of encounters—brief and unemotional.”

“I wouldn’t brag about brevity if I were you, St. John,” Rock said, flashing a wide grin at Gabriel before he continued. “Your problem is not the women who choose you, but those whom you choose. If you were not so easily wiled by those who play the victim, you might have better luck with the fairer sex.”

Rock had not said anything Nick did not already know. Since his youth, he’d had a soft spot for women in need. And while he understood it to be one of his biggest weaknesses—having brought more trouble than fortune upon him in his lifetime—he seemed unable to resist the trait.

So he kept his women at arm’s length. His rules were clear. No mistresses. No regular assignations. And, most definitely, no wife.

“Well, either way,” Gabriel said, returning lightness to the conversation, “I shall enjoy myself immensely while you run the gauntlet of this impressive superlative.”

Nick paused, drinking deep before finally leaning back and placing his hands flat on the table. “I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you. I do not plan to run the gauntlet at all.”

“Oh? How do you expect to avoid the women of London? They are huntresses of the highest caliber.”

“They cannot hunt if their prey has gone to ground,” Nick announced.

“You are leaving? “ Gabriel did not look pleased. “To where? ”

Nick shrugged. “I have clearly overstayed London’s welcome. The Continent. The Orient. The Americas. Rock? You’ve been itching for an adventure for months. Where would you like to go? ”

Rock considered the options. “Not the Orient. A repeat of the last time we were there is not tempting. I would rather steer clear of it.”

“Fair enough,” Nick conceded. “The Americas, then.”

Gabriel shook his head. “You would be gone for a year at least. Have you forgotten that we have a sister just out and in need of a match? You will not leave me to deal with that sure-to-be-disastrous event simply because you fear the attention of a handful of ladies.”

“A handful!” Nick protested, “They are a swarm.” He paused, considering his options. “I don’t really care where I go … as long as there are no women there.”

Rock looked alarmed. “None whatsoever? ”

Nick laughed for the first time that evening. “Well, not none, obviously. But would it be too much to ask that there be no women who have read that ridiculous magazine? ”

Gabriel raised a dark brow. “Very likely so.”

“St. John.”

All three gentlemen turned at the sound of Nick’s name to find the Duke of Leighton beside the table. Tall and broad, if Leighton hadn’t been a duke, the man would have made an excellent Viking—fair-haired and stone-faced, he rarely smiled. But today, Nick noted that the duke seemed even more stoic than usual.

“Leighton! Join us.” Nick used one foot to capture a nearby seat and drag it to the table. “Save me from these two.”