“Of course! Imagine if I didn’t come. Who would then do this?” Caleb asked, turning and then shouting, “More ale and whiskey here!”
Soon, they were rewarded with a round of drinks.
“Thank you,” Kettering replied, happily taking an ale even though he barely even got through his first beer.
Caleb nodded magnanimously at Kettering then lifted a tumbler of whiskey and took a slow sip. “Ah… yes… that is quite good.” He lowered the glass and gently twirled his hand, swirling the amber liquid inside. “Now, let us be candid with one another, gents. What are you doing here, Wolfcrest?”
“What areyoudoing here? Disturbing the peace?” Adrian retorted, and smirked when Caleb laughed loudly. “If you reallywant to know, Wolfcrest, I had to force myself to leave my house and avoid getting roped into some party where debutantes would laugh at me.” He huffed indignantly. “I do not know why the young ladies this Season are bent on being so very giggly, but I find it quite obnoxious.” He took another drink from his cup. “I prefer it here,” he explained, his smile not fading. Then, without even pausing, he turned to the barmaid setting yet another round of drinks on their table and said, “Thank you, love.”
The trio engaged in casual conversation until Kettering stood up and excused himself. “I must truly get back to my wife. Thank you, my Lord, and Your Grace, but she worries about me when I’m out late.”
Adrian could hear what was unsaid there. Kettering’s wife knew they had dealings that had garnered them enemies, or at least competitors. Kettering was also supposed to be the head of operations, while the Duke maneuvered in secret.
“Excellent decision, Kettering!” Caleb approved, laughing heartily. “You must go to the safety of your own bed. Quickly!”
And that was exactly what Kettering did. He gave his hasty final goodbyes and scuttered away as if his pants were on fire. When the manager was gone, Caleb turned his full attention on his friend.
“What about you?” Caleb asked, leaning his elbows on the wooden table, without a care for the fact it was sticky. “Why aren’t you in bed with your new young wife? It’s been barely a month since you married her, and you’ve already taken toleaving her alone at night? How is that possible? She is far from horrendous, and I suspect that she is willing enough to share her bedchamber with you. Shouldn’t you be practicing for an heir instead of drowning your sorrows at the Coil?”
Adrian glared at his friend, feeling the tight pressure in his jaw. “I am not here because of sorrow or any imagined problem, Amberwell. I am here to conduct business.”
“Mm,” Caleb said, raising an eyebrow. Then, he gulped hard from his tankard. “If you ask me, it does not seem as though you and your new Duchess are conducting any business.”
Adrian snorted. “No one asked you.”
“They did not,” Caleb agreed merrily. He cast a sly wink at his friend. “But tell me truly, why are you not with the Duchess tonight? Has she grown tired of your mercurial temper?” He cocked his head to the side and lowered his voice marginally. “Is there trouble in paradise already, my friend?”
“There is no trouble,” Adrian said smoothly. “I am merely escaping the many questions that woman has.”
He felt terrible about calling his wife “that woman” but it simply spilled out of him. He sounded defensive to his ears. “I have given her ample allowance to work on the redesign of the various rooms, but she wants more.”
“How dare she?” The Marquess pressed a hand to his chest and feigned a look of shock.
“Please,” Adrian ground out. “Do be serious—for once.”
“Ah well…” Amberwell clapped him heartily on the back a second time. “I do wish that you were up for having more fun tonight, but I also understand your vexation.”
“You do?” Adrian shifted in his seat slightly so he could gauge just how inebriated his friend was already. Usually, Amberwell sought to tease and antagonize for much longer than this and it almost felt like he was giving up too easily.
“Your wife is a woman with spirit. Ah. I am pleasantly surprised. I heard the duchess used to be the most obedient daughter, the one Lady Grisham had been molding into her likeness,” his friend mused. “I do recall that your father had warned you, in his own way, about marrying anyone with half a brain to think for herself. So, what does your spirited duchess want to know? What does she already know about your investments?” His eyes twinkled. “And what does she want to change on your estate?”
“She suspects my dealings, undoubtedly having heard about the Wolf of Wolfcrest’s activities,” Adrian admitted. “She wants to know where I was during our wedding night and why Briarwood seems to be afraid of me.”
“Well, if I were the bride, I would certainly be alarmed if my groom was more interested in leaving the estate than making love to me.” Caleb returned to his teasing ways as he leaned backand gave Adrian a self-satisfied smirk. “On a more serious note, she is not wrong to be curious. She had the attention of one dangerous man she was trying to avoid, only to end up married to another? That would be enough to have any woman tied up in knots.”
“Daphne is not like most women,” Adrian declared, his tone conveying his pride.
He had known from the moment that he first met her that she was unique and was pleased that she had yet to disappoint or disrupt this first impression. But she was also more than a strong, stalwart woman who stood out easily in a crowd. Adrian could not name precisely what it was that set Daphne apart from her peers, but he did not shy away from conducting further analysis of her behavior.
“She does not submit well to flirtation. Instead, she uses my words to practice her wit and deflects all my attempts to seduce her. She is guarded. Yet, at the same time, she wants to know more about my activities, especially the ones after dark.”
“A curious woman will always have a healthy respect for ferreting out secrets. Perhaps, you need to stay longer with your duchess if you don’t want her stepping out of the walls to find out what you’ve been doing. Go home and make peace with her.” Caleb’s tone might still be lighthearted, but he sounded sincere when he gave his advice.
Adrian drained what seemed to be his third glass of whiskey. The liquor did nothing to ease the storm inside of him. “I will gohome but I cannot tell her everything she wants to know. I must keep my own counsel on certain matters.”
“Naturally,” his friend said matter-of-factly, his gaze seemingly focused on his glass.
The Duke had no response for that quip. It was already late, and perhaps, it was for everyone’s best interest that he went home.
