The Duke I'm Going to Marry(21)
“Am I forgiven for teasing you?”
She nodded. “You’re forgiven for everything.”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion. “What else have I done wrong?”
“Nothing.” And that was the problem. As far as she could tell, he had no faults, except for his desire never to marry.
That counted as a fault, didn’t it?
CHAPTER 4
SEVERAL WEEKS LATER, Ian was comfortably ensconced in one of the overstuffed leather chairs in the larger club room at White’s, nursing a finely aged Madeira port and contemplating his latest problem. The mahogany wood-paneled male sanctuary smelled of finely cured cigars, worn leather, oil polish, and newsprint.
He’d just ordered another glass of port when Graelem and Gabriel strode in. If Graelem was back in town, then the entire Farthingale clan could not be far behind. Cousins, aunts, and uncles from Oxfordshire, Yorkshire, Derbyshire, and heaven knows where else would all descend on the Farthingale residence on Chipping Way, eager to celebrate the start of this year’s season.
He knew Dillie would not mind the noise or be dismayed by the lack of privacy, for she loved every single member of her unruly family. Quite a contrast between the Farthingales and his own miserable excuse for relatives.
“There you are,” Gabriel said from across the room, earning frowns from the older gentlemen hunched in their chairs, reading their newspapers. “Where have you been hiding?”
“In plain sight.” It was early April, still a little too soon for the marriage mart to fully hit its stride, but there were plenty of dinner parties, musicales, and soirees to keep those already in town entertained. He’d attended a few of those events, mostly those known to attract a faster crowd. He knew Dillie would not be permitted to attend these more risqué gatherings.
Ian set down the crystal wine glass he’d been absently twirling in his hand and rose as his friends approached.
“You weren’t at Eloise’s last night.”
He shrugged. “Something came up. I couldn’t make it.”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He’d mellowed since his marriage to Daisy, no doubt due to her influence; she was the middle Farthingale daughter and the one who always strove to keep peace in the family. Graelem had married Laurel, the hot-tempered daughter. Graelem had a bit of a temper himself and needed a strong-willed woman to keep him in check, though it was Laurel’s soft side that seemed to do the trick more often than not.
Dillie, the youngest of the Farthingale girls, although by only several minutes, seemed to have taken snippets of the best qualities from her sisters. She was as artistic as Rose, the eldest. She was spirited, but not as quick to anger as Laurel. She was as caring and loving as Daisy, and almost as clever as her twin, Lily. In truth, Lily was a freak of nature. No living being came close to her intelligence. Yet Lily always turned to Dillie first for advice.
Hell. He was thinking of Dillie again. He hadn’t meant to, for he had bigger problems at the moment. Apparently Graelem and Gabriel were worried about something as well.
“We’ve just come from the Prince Regent. Those blackguards who tried to kill you last November weren’t Napoleon’s agents. No connection whatsoever. He’s worried about you, wants to know who else might want you dead,” Gabriel said, drawing him into a quieter corner of the club room.
Ian frowned. “I have plenty of enemies.” Including my own family.
Graelem glanced around to make certain no one was standing close enough to overhear them. “That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
He’d told his two friends and the Prince Regent of the attack. Of course, he’d had to report it in full to Prinny, but hadn’t gone into quite the same detail with his friends. If they ever found out that he’d recovered in Dillie’s bed, or that she’d nursed him back to health, he would be a dead man.
He would tell them eventually. Now was not the right time.
“Forget about the incident. My only concern is that it represented a possible threat to the royal family. If it’s just some husband after me for a supposed wrong, then leave it alone. I was hurt. That ought to be enough to satisfy the old clot who sent those blackguards.”
Gabriel rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and sighed. “I still don’t like it. You’re being far too casual about the incident. You almost died.”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’m still alive. Second, no one would care if I did die.”
“We would,” Gabriel insisted.
“So would the Farthingale family,” Graelem added. “You helped to save Lily when she was abducted and they’re forever grateful.”