What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(102)
“Yes, they were mine, but they fit her.”
“Aren’t those a bit…fast?”
“This from a reformed rake?”
He laughed. “By the by, are you planning to take all the walls down at Sommerall?”
She snorted. “Be careful or I will.”
“There they go, queuing up for the dance,” he said. “Shall we walk closer?”
“Yes, please,” she said.
He escorted her, setting his hand protectively over her belly whenever they moved through a particularly dense part of the crowd. Angeline saw a number of matrons smiling at him. They sat in chairs on the sideline because her back tended to ache if she stood too long. He held her hand and gave her his handkerchief when her eyes grew misty.
“This is the best gift you could ever give me,” she said.
“Most women want jewels and furs.”
“Those women don’t understand that the best gift in life is love.”
His heart turned over once again, and he figured he was the luckiest man in the ballroom tonight.
With the recent loss of his beloved uncle, Harry Norcliffe, the Duke of Granfield, has no desire to participate in a dancing competition. But one look at his beautiful partner causes the nobleman to change his tune…
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What a Devilish Duke Desires.
Chapter One
White’s, London 1822
Three months after his uncle’s death, Harry Norcliffe, the Duke of Granfield, needed to find his way back to his old life, which had disappeared under a mountain of grief. His uncle Hugh had been his father figure for as long as he could remember, and life at the farm in Wiltshire would never be the same without him.
Harry reached the door at the club, took a deep breath, and stepped inside the familiar hall. A servant appeared and bowed. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”
“Thank you.” He’d yet to adjust to his new title and felt oddly like an imposter. As he divested himself of his hat, greatcoat, and gloves, he remembered thinking there would be changes, but he’d not been prepared for so many. Tonight, however, he looked forward to meeting up with his old friends.
Harry strolled over to have a look at the betting book as he’d always done upon entering the club. Apparently Aubery had wagered Rollins a crown that it would rain on Tuesday. The frivolous bet reassured Harry that the world in London had gone on and so would he, despite the crushing loss of his uncle.
He strolled through the ground floor, looking for his friends. The clink of glasses and silverware echoed from the upstairs dining room, and the fragrant aroma of beefsteak teased his senses. Now he wanted nothing more than to quaff down one too many brandies and have a few laughs with his old friends.
He didn’t get far before Lords Fitzhugh and Castelle hailed him.
“Congratulations, on the dukedom,” Castelle said, pumping his hand.
“Congratulations, Granfield,” Fitzhugh said with emphasis.
Several other acquaintances approached as well. Harry acknowledged their greetings with a nod, but he neither wanted nor appreciated their congratulations. He knew they meant well, but no title or fortune would ever make up for losing his uncle.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder and said, “It’s the Devil himself.”
Harry’s spirits lifted immediately upon seeing his friend Bellingham. “I suppose it takes one to know one,” he said, grinning.
“Come, our old table is waiting, and there is someone I want you to see,” Bell said.
The world seemed right again as he followed his friend upstairs to the dining room. When they reached the table, Colin stood and pounded him on the back. “Harry, it’s good to see you.”
“And you. How is married life?”
“Well, Angeline hasn’t thrown me out on my arse yet,” Colin said.
“Oh, ho!” Harry said, laughing.
Bell motioned to Harry. “Do you remember this fellow?”
Harry frowned. When recognition dawned, he was astounded. “Is that Justin?”
Justin Davenport, the Earl of Chesfield, grinned as he extended his hand. “Pleased to see you, Harry.”
“Good Lord.” Harry turned his attention to Bell. “He was a skinny cub the last time I saw him.”
“He’s twenty-one now,” Bell said, “and six feet three inches tall.”
“What are you feeding him?” Harry said.
Bell laughed. “A great deal of beef.”
Harry signaled the waiter to bring brandies. When they arrived, he looked at Bell. “I can’t believe you’re letting the sprig drink brandy.”
“He’s of age and knows his limits. I wouldn’t have met his mother if not for that flask of brandy Justin hid very poorly,” Bell said.
Justin laughed. “It wasn’t my brightest idea, Father.”
“Fortunately, you’re past sowing wild oats.” Bell narrowed his eyes. “Correct?”
Justin’s smile slanted to one side. “Am I supposed to answer that?”
Everyone laughed.
Three years ago, Bellingham had sworn to be a lifelong bachelor, but he’d fallen hard for Laura Davenport. All of them had been fond of the recalcitrant lad, but he was a grown man now. The devil, how had time flown by so quickly?