Dusk With a Dangerous Duke (5 page)

Lady Netherley sighed. “Oh, I could find you a husband, dear girl. That is not the problem.”

Puzzled, Grace straightened. “Then what is?”

The marchioness chuckled ruefully. “Is it not obvious? The real challenge will be convincing Hunter to accept your outrageous decision.”

Chapter Four

“I can no longer put off the inevitable. I must marry the chit.”

The Marquess of Sinclair and the Earl of Rainecourt did not immediately respond to Hunter’s announcement. He had been friends with Sin and Reign for so many years, he could barely recall a time when they had not been a part of his life.

Sin stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “And who might this particular chit be? That actress you were dallying with last month? Or are you referring to that rather persistent blonde who appeared smitten with you at Lady Gate’s fete? Oh, what was the chit’s name? Matilda?” he directed the question to Reign.

“Not a Matilda,” Reign countered as he tried to recall the lady’s name. “But her name did begin with the letter
M.
Perhaps a Maggie or Minerva?”

Sin grimaced. “Not Minerva. A lady bearing such a name would be too spoiled and long-toothed for our good friend. Sharp elbows.”

“What do sharp elbows have to do with anything?” Hunter demanded, unable to recall ever meeting a brazen blonde at Lady Gate’s fete. “And what is this fixation with names that begin with
M
? If this fuzzy-headed logic persists, the two of you might want to abstain from imbibing brandy in the afternoon.”

Reign just laughed baldly at what he must have perceived as a jest on Hunter’s part. Honestly, was it too much to expect a little support from his friends?

“The lady I was referring is Lady Grace Kearly,” he said, unable to conceal the frustration in his voice. “You might recall that I have been pledged to marry the chit, or else I’ll lose the inheritance my grandmother bestowed upon me—and may I remind you laughing fools that the house on King Street was one of her properties.”

The same house he had donated to the Lords of Vice to create their club Nox. If he failed to marry Lady Grace, his cousin could seize the house and quite possibly assume ownership of the club.

It was a devil of a mess.

And he could use a little support from his friends.

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate your predicament, gent,” Reign said as he tried to catch his breath between laughs. “Nor do we wish to lose Nox over this. I actually had forgotten about the girl. You haven’t mentioned her name in years.”

His silence was indefensible. Hunter had tried to forget the girl and that he would one day have to marry her or sacrifice his honor and inheritance.

“How do you know she still lives?” Sin inquired. “After all this time, something could have happened to her. Maybe you have been avoiding a woman who has been dead for years.”

“Lady Grace has not succumbed to illness or a convenient accident. Once a year, I send my solicitor to Frethwell Hall on my behalf. He has kept me informed on the lady’s welfare.”

Hunter could not work up any righteous anger over their amusement or lack of sympathy about his predicament. He rarely uttered Lady Grace’s name, even to his closest friends, or mentioned the conditions his grandmother had shackled him with in order to guarantee his compliance.

“Lady Grace turns twenty-one in a few weeks,” he calmly explained. At their blank expressions, he added, “According to the arrangement, I must marry the lady before that date elapses, or else I lose part of my inheritance to my cousin Roland Walker.”

A man who did not deserve to benefit from Hunter’s hard work.

“Ah, Walker, you say,” Reign said as recognition lit his dark blue eyes. “I can’t recall the last time I encountered the fellow.”

“Cutting it a tad close, my friend,” Sin observed.

Hunter got up from his chair and paced in front of them while he dragged his hand through his hair. “I am well aware of that fact, Sin. Porter has often scolded me for leaving matters in the air too long. I have attempted to rectify the situation by visiting the lady on several occasions.”

“When was this?” Sin asked.

Hunter shook his head. He had not mentioned his failed excursions to anyone. “The dates no longer matter. I was turned away each time because the lady was not in residence.”

Reign gave him a level look that had Hunter halting in midstep. “It is unlike you to avoid your responsibilities. You have had years to collect your bride. Why the devil did you tarry? You could have brought her to London last spring. Sophia and Juliana would have been happy to take her in hand, and with Regan, Isabel, and Catherine’s assistance, the ladies could have introduced her to London society and given you a chance to become acquainted with the woman you intend to marry.”

Juliana and Sophia were Sin’s and Reign’s wives. Regan was the sister of their mutual friend, the Earl of Chillingsworth. Everyone called him Frost. She was also married to Dare, another member of the Lords of Vice. Isabel was the Earl of Vanewright’s wife, and this past summer their friend, the Marquess of Sainthill, had married Lord Greenshield’s daughter, Catherine.

Hunter glared at Reign. “I just told you that I tried to see the chit.” He had desired a meeting, but he had not considered bringing her to London. Christ, he was such an arse. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Do I?” His lips quirked in amusement. “There is nothing simple about courtship.”

“I concur,” Sin added.

“Courtship?” Hunter tasted the word. “I am marrying the lady. She will be my duchess. I hardly think courting her is necessary.”

Both gentlemen shook their heads as if Hunter had disappointed them.

“If you had journeyed to Frethwell Hall years ago as your Porter had advised, you could have saved yourself this misery,” Sin said rather unsympathetically.

The two men exchanged glances. Out of the seven Lords of Vice, Sin and Reign had been the first to marry. The rest of them often turned to the gentlemen for guidance when it came to navigating the tricky waters of marriage.

“Last spring was out of the question,” Hunter said, knowing he was beginning to sound defensive. “Saint was behaving oddly. He was spending too many nights at the Golden Pearl and—”

“Did you not often join him at the brothel?” Reign interjected.

The question was not meant to be judgmental. Before Reign and the others had found their wives, all of them had enjoyed the company of the exotic and always masked Madame Venna and the pleasures her establishment, the Golden Pearl, had to offer. They had even set up a separate business arrangement at their club, Nox, which was mutually beneficial to both sides.

He should know, since he was the one who sat down with Madame Venna and negotiated the terms with the astute proprietress. It was a pity the woman eventually closed the doors of the elegant brothel. While some of the girls still provided their unique services to Nox, others had disappeared along with their mysterious employer. Madame Venna was sorely missed by her former patrons.

If Saint had his way, her adoring public would never meet her again.

Recalling that Reign was waiting patiently for a reply, Hunter gave up his pacing and claimed one of the chairs. “Naturally. Someone had to watch over him, and you and Sin are no use when it comes to such amusements.”

Neither gentleman took offense. Sin picked up the small brass letter opener with a blue enameled handle that someone had left on the table beside him. He tested the point of the ornate blade against the pad of his thumb.

“Those were wild years,” Sin admitted, though he discreetly glanced at the door before he spoke. It would have been unfortunate if the ladies had chosen that moment to join them. While Juliana was aware of her husband’s former reputation with the ladies, Sin loved his wife beyond distraction and would never have said or done anything that might injure her feelings. “I don’t regret them, but I wouldn’t trade what I have built with Juliana to revisit them.”

“Nor would I,” Reign added, his steadfast gaze beginning to make the area between Hunter’s shoulder blades itch as his annoyance increased.

Suddenly Hunter could not bear another second of the earl’s scrutiny. “Do we have a problem, gents? If you have something to say to me, Reign, I would prefer that you speak plainly.”

The only other person who stared at him in that hawkish manner was his grandmother—usually when he had provoked her ire over some trivial mischief or lie.

Sin shrugged when Reign glanced his way. “He’s a bit thick-headed, but you can try.”

“If this is a private discussion, I’ll leave and seek out the ladies. Christ knows they tend to make more sense than you conceited bastards,” Hunter said, leaning forward in a feigned attempt to excuse himself.

“Sit down,” Reign ordered, and followed it with a firm shove to keep Hunter from standing. “It just isn’t my place to interfere, but after watching Saint and Vane muddle through their courtships with their ladies, I feel inclined to spare you the same misery.”

“Sensibility. Aye, it’s practically the Lords of Vice motto,” quipped Sin.

Hunter chuckled. The true motto the Lords of Vice had taken after they had opened Nox was
Virtus Deseritur.
The Latin phrase translated to “virtue is forsaken.” It was just one more reason why he had no business marrying an innocent chit like Lady Grace.

If she were still alive, his grandmother would be amused by his predicament.

Reign shot the Sin a warning glance. “Quiet. You will simply goad him to do the opposite out of sheer stubbornness.”

Sin’s eyes twinkled as he pointed the letter opener in Hunter’s direction. “Now who is doing the goading, eh?”

The earl shook his head in exasperation. “Ignore him,” he told Hunter. “I just wanted to offer you some advice. Be kind to her.”

Hunter scowled at his friend. There was no doubt Reign was speaking of Lady Grace. “That’s your grand advice? Be kind? Of course I’ll be kind to her. What sort of man do you think I am?”

“A great man,” Reign replied instantly, which slightly mollified Hunter. “You have kindness in you, not to mention humor, intelligence, and an appreciation of savoring life to the fullest.”

Sensing the earl was faltering in his explanation, Sin interjected, “What Reign is trying to say is that he—both of us, actually—are concerned about you and the girl if you plan to honor this arranged marriage your grandmother brokered with her family. It is a difficult situation, to be certain, and it would be unfair to blame the poor girl for something her grandfather instigated.”

Hunter gaped at his friends. “Both of you are half-wits. I’ve never struck a woman in my life!” he thundered, insulted by the suggestion that he would physically harm the lady.

“Hunter…” Sin said, sighing. “You’ve banished the girl for most of her life to the country. I cannot presume to speak for the lady; if given the choice, however, you have little interest in seeing your grandmother’s grand plans through. Perhaps you should consider forfeiting your inheritance so you and Lady Grace—”

“No,” he said unequivocally.

“What kind of marriage will the two of you have?” Reign pressed. His calm logic did little to soothe Hunter’s temper. “Admit it. You haven’t even met Lady Grace, and yet you despise her.”

Hunter lowered his heated gaze. “That’s a strong response to a lady I have not seen since we were children.” Belatedly, he thought to add, “And for the record, I don’t despise her.”

Not exactly.

His friends also knew that he wasn’t telling the truth.

It was not his fault that for many years just the thought of losing his freedom to a woman who was not of his choosing, caused bile to rise in his throat.

“Truly?” Sin smirked. “You have spent most of your life bedding every female who tossed herself at you. Not precisely the actions of a gentleman betrothed to a duke’s daughter.”

“You’re quite the dissembler,” he replied, resisting the urge to tackle Sin and pummel him into the rug. “After all, you are accusing me of misdeeds that you are equally guilty of. More so, since you shagged more females than all of us combined. How many ladies did you bestow pearl necklaces upon to win their favors? Wouldn’t your wife be furious if she heard the answer from your lips?”

Sin’s eyes flared with fury. Hunter silently marveled at his friend’s restraint. If he had spoken this way to Saint, there was a good chance Hunter would have been flat on his back while he checked for loose teeth.

Instead, Sin yelled, “I, on the other hand, was
not
betrothed to anyone, so what I did, how often, and with how many women does not apply. Christ, you are a righteous bastard!”

Reign held up both hands to keep the two men in their seats. “Gents, please … the past no longer matters.” Satisfied that Sin was not planning to throttle anyone, the earl turned to Hunter. “Although I rarely speak of it, of all the Lords of Vice, you are aware that I am the only one intimately acquainted with how empty a loveless marriage is. It eats at a man’s soul, and no amount of brandy, mistresses, or recklessness will offer peace. So when I ask you to reconsider your decision, it is because I think of you as my brother and do not wish to watch you suffer as I once did.”

Hunter remained silent. Reign rarely spoke of his first marriage to Beatrice Roberts. It had ended badly for the couple. There had been rumors that her parents had urged her to accept the young earl’s betrothal, even while her heart belonged to another. One terrible night, after an evening of drinking and fighting, the seven-months-pregnant countess was found dead in her bedchamber. For many years, Reign feared he was responsible for her death. He had been so drunk, he could not recall what had transpired that evening.

To this day, there were a few in the
ton
who still wondered if he had had a hand in murdering her.

“I won’t do anything reckless,” Hunter said quietly. “It is why I thought it best that I journey to Frethwell Hall instead of inviting Lady Grace to London. Porter tells me that the lady has an agreeable disposition. Even so, I have been warned by the man on several occasions that I can take nothing for granted. It has been conveyed that she is somewhat displeased by what is perceived as my neglect. If Lady Grace will not have me, then perhaps your and Sin’s concern is for naught.”