For Love of the Duke(40)

Guilford scratched his brow. “What was that? I believe you said—”

“That I accepted the lady’s offer.”

A bark of laughter filled the room. Guilford shoved himself off his desk and strode over to the collection of crystal decanters on the table at the center of the room. “Am I to believe the lady offered for you? Lady Katherine offered for you?”

Jasper bristled at the insult. What was so bloody hilarious about Lady Katherine’s interest in him?

Guilford must have followed the direction of his thoughts. “I must say I believe this is the first I know of a lady offering for a gentleman.” He touched the decanter to an empty glass and splashed several fingerfuls into it. He held it out to Jasper.

Jasper waved it off. “I can’t wed her.”

The glass froze mid-way to Guilford’s mouth. He lowered it to his side. “Never tell me you’d renege on your offer…”

“It was her offer,” Jasper bit out. And then, “No, I wouldn’t,” he sighed. He might be a coldhearted bastard, dead on the inside, but he was still a gentleman. To not wed the lady now would be the height of dishonorable.

Guilford held his glass up in salute. “Well, then, congratulations are in order.”

Jasper growled and resumed pacing. “I cannot wed her,” he said more to himself.

“I believe you’ve already pointed out that you are a bit late in that regard,” Guilford drawled.

Jasper strode over to the crystal decanters and reached for the nearest bottle. He poured a glass full to the rim.

“And spirits, too? Well, this is quite the day, indeed. What should I expect next? Horses to fly over the Serpentine?”

Jasper downed the contents in a single swallow. He grimaced at the fiery path it blazed down his throat. Whiskey. He’d picked bloody whiskey.

It seemed fitting, considering the day he was having.

Nor would it do to point out in the days since he’d met Katherine he’d consumed far more spirits than he had in the course of the four years. Guilford was already enjoying this a good deal too much.

“She had a list,” Jasper said at last.

From over the rim of his glass, Guilford’s grin widened. “A list?”

Jasper reached for another decanter, this time selecting a bottle of brandy. He sloshed a healthy amount of spirits into his glass and took a long swallow. “A list,” he growled, waving his glass about. “You know, a list? Something one articulates…”

Guilford laughed. “I know what a list is. Don’t be a bloody arse. What manner of list?”

All the Reasons to Wed Katherine

The most recent events were disastrous in every way; Katherine’s offer, and his acceptance would only upset the carefully protected world Jasper had built for himself.

And yet…

He smiled in remembrance.

Guilford choked on a mouthful of brandy. “I say, are you smiling now?” He glanced over at the wide floor-length windows, and squinted. “Surely there are horses flying. There must be.”

Jasper set his glass down hard enough to send droplets of moisture spraying over the rim of the glass and onto the rose-inlaid table. He’d had enough of Guilford having fun at his expense. He scowled until the grin fell from his friend’s face.

“It was a bloody list of reasons to marry the lady.”

Guilford’s lips flattened into a tight line. The faint tremble however, indicated the concerted effort he made to tamp down his amusement. “That must have been quite an impressive list, then.”

I can provide as many children as desired…

Jasper’s eyes slid closed as he thought of the generous curve of her breast weighted in his hand; the peak of that mound of flesh…and not for the first time, he wondered as to the shade of that precious peak. He’d wager it was the faintest pink, like—

“By all the saints in heaven, you’re smitten with the lady.”

Jasper jerked to the moment. He felt a dull flush of heat creeping up his neck, and he yanked at his hastily tied cravat. By God, he was the Duke of Bainbridge. He did not turn red with embarrassment, and certainly not over a young lady in her first, going on second, Season.

“I am not smitten. I’m…” he searched for words. “Merely driven out of a sense of pity for her circumstances.” Those words rang like a lie in his mind and in his heart.

“Pity?” Guilford pressed. He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, then, let us hear it? What would drive the miserable, recluse, all powerful Duke of Bainbridge to forsake his vow to remain unwed out of…” he arched a brow, “What did you say? Pity?”

“There’s the matter of Ekstrom.”