“Those betting books are dreadful,” Perry scowled. “They’ll bet about anything.”
Beau cleared his throat. “I heard a man dropped into a faint in front of the club, and instead of offering him any kind of aid, members were betting as to whether the man was dead or simply unconscious.”
Michael laughed into his fist, choking on his mirth.
Perry shook his head as she chuckled. “They are terrible people. I should place a bet on when the Duke of Bridgewater will be celebrating his own nuptials. Won’t be long now, I imagine.”
“You would lose that bet,” Beau commented, his face growing serious.
The two other men stilled.
Perry coughed. “Pardon me?”
Michael eyed Beau with a raised brow and an unspoken message passing between them. Narrowing his gaze, Perry glanced between them, irritated to be excluded from this silent conversation.
With a huff, Beau placed his glass on a side table and interlocked his fingers in front of him to hang between his knees.
“I have news,” he began. His shoulders slumped and he frowned.
“Tell me,” Perry insisted. Surely he hadn’t been too busy lately for his brother to confide in him? The thought chagrined him.
Rubbing a hand over his brow, Beau released a breath. “Sarah has called off our engagement.”
“How have I not heard this?”
Beau glanced at Michael. “Our friend here heard a rumor and, well, I confronted my fiancée. She denied it at first, and I was relieved.”
Tilting his head, Perry’s mouth tilted to the side. “But…”
Hisbrother lifted his glass, swallowing a mouthful of his drink.
“There were reports that Sarah eloped to Gretna Green shortly after Beau confronted her,” Michael explained. “Apparently, she had been quite taken with another gentleman, and he sped her away to be married without the consent of her family.”
His brows drawing in concern, Perry mulled over the words. “The wedding is off, then?”
“The wedding is off,” Beau confirmed with a solemn nod, the words stilted. “I didn’t want to tell you while Charlotte was recovering. You had enough to worry about. I’m sorry to disappoint theton. Apparently, we Spencer brothers love a good scandal.”
Staring into the ruby liquid swirling in his glass, Perry glowered.
Michael cleared his throat. “Erm, I have news as well. You remember the man I sent in pursuit of Mr. Jeffries?”
Perry turned to the viscount, holding his breath. “Yes? Has he been caught?”
“In a way, yes. Mr. Jeffries was caught trying to sell his stolen goods, and apparently, he was robbed by some local criminals in a port town not far from Bodmin. His body was found in a back alley. All your stolen funds and silver were nowhere to be found. My agent confirmed the story with three different locals. The dead man fit Mr. Jeffries’s descriptions perfectly.”
Even though it provided a conclusion to the mystery at Bodmin, Perry was unsatisfied with that outcome. He would have loved to see the criminal brought to justice. Mr. Jeffries deserved to pay for his crimes. The only consolation was that he would no longer be able to harm anyone else.
“I’m beginning to think we are cursed, the way scandal seems to follow us around,” Perry complained. “Please, let us refill our glasses and discuss how our family will recover. I’m sorry for the loss of your bride, Beau.”
The duke shrugged, bringing his glass close to the bottle,where Michael was pouring. Of course, Perry was just out of trouble and now tongues were wagging about the situation involving his brother.
Perry considered, digging his top teeth into his bottom lip.
Sometimes, a scandal was necessary to set you on the path of your destiny.
He released a slow breath. “It’s for the best. Though it seems a tragedy at the moment, sometimes life leads you on a better path than you ever thought possible. I took a bullet and look where it got me? Into the arms of my beloved countess.”
His brother’s broody eyes rediscovered their humorous glint and a smile teased at his mouth.
