A list he no doubt possessed.
Any man as exacting as Julian, a duke who accepted nothing less than the absolute best in everything he touched, ate, acquired, or otherwise, likely possessed a list of bridal requirements so precise, only one woman in all the world could possibly fill the role.
And it wasn’t Unity.
Courting her would be more scandalous than hosting his lavish weekly bacchanalia. Invitations would cease, out of fear he’d bring his low-born Black wife along. Memberships, dropped. His life, irrevocably curtailed.
Not just his. He’d said his primary concern was to provide the best path for his privileged, proper heirs, who would be welcomed by the ton and find happiness amongst their peers. A noble, understandable, worthy desire for one’s children.
And something Unity could not offer.
She set down her wine. That was enough pretending to be courted. She was not here for him. Unity was here to learn all she could about hosting successful, popular masquerades that kept people coming back for more. She should worry about her future, not Lambley’s.
“How did you advertise your parties?” she asked. “I cannot imagine you sending an invitation to every name in the peerage.”
His lips twitched. “Hardly. My little soirées started on a much smaller scale than what you see now. I had to know the person would not only covet the opportunity but also follow the rules before I sent an invitation.”
Of course he would have rules. And assess each person individually to determine their suitability.
“What if I had a friend I’d like to bring to the party?” she asked.
“Do you?” He arched a brow. “Bring her. Or him.”
Her mouth fell open. “Youwould letmeinvite some stranger, sight unseen? Your Grace, the Duke of Controlling Every Detail?”
“Either I trust your judgment, or I don’t,” he replied. “I do. Why else would I be experimenting with the lists of ideas you force upon me?”
She stared at him. “You’re taking my advice?”
“Only a fool believes himself the only one capable of good judgment. My balls are as crowded as they are, because every friend I extend a personal invitation toalsohas friends. And those friends have friends, and so on. Everyone knows their invitation hinges on respecting other guests’ anonymity and autonomy.”
She nodded. “No pressuring anyone to do anything they don’t wish, from going upstairs to dancing a minuet. And no sharing names.”
He inclined his head. “If the friend of a friend should prove untrustworthy, then so is the person who recommended them, both of whom are immediately removed from the premises.”
“Permanent expulsion, all the way down the line.” She pantomimed a shudder. “With that threat hanging over them, I doubt many would risk recommending someone whose character they weren’t absolutely sure of.”
“I’ve only had to remove a guest once.” Julian’s expression hardened. “He was in his cups, but intoxication is not an acceptable excuse.”
“I’m guessing there’snoacceptable reason to break one of your rules?”
“There is no excuse for not being in complete control of one’s self,” he replied, his eyes and tone gone dark.
She tried to lighten the mood. “Certainly children—”
“—are not exempt,” he snapped. “Nor am I.”
She swallowed. Whatever this was, it was personal. “Did something happen?”
Chapter 16
For a brief second, the anger vanished from the duke’s eyes, replaced by an anguished look of such deep sorrow, Unity immediately regretted having pried.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He turned from her and poured a glass of wine, then set down the bottle without taking his goblet. Instead, he sank back in his seat and lifted a pocket watch from his coat.
“My father gave this to me. I haven’t wound it in years. The hands are frozen at six o’clock.” Julian’s voice was gravelly. “He was angry at me for misbehaving. The last thing he ever said to me was, ‘We’ll be home at six. Have yourself under control by then.’”
