The capes of Duncan’s greatcoat fluttered in the chilly wind as he stepped out. He squinted up at the sky, which had turned to a cold blanket of gray. “I shall see if the Broadmeres have shelter for ye while ye wait. If not, sit inside the carriage. ’Twill shield ye from the wind.”
Angus gave him a dubious look, then waggled a wild, bushy brow. “That ain’t proper, my lord. Not here in Town.”
“When have ye known me to care about what is proper?”
With a snorting laugh, Angus touched the brim of his cap. “Aye, my lord. It shall be as ye wish it.”
“Good.” Duncan strode up the steps and rapped the brass door knocker on the plate.
Barely a moment passed before the door opened, revealing Fipps—the younger butler. Recognition flashed in his eyes. He bowed, then stepped back while opening the door wider. “Good day, Lord Kirkston. Do come inside.”
“Thank ye, Fipps. I am here to see Lady Merry. Is she receiving today?”
“I do apologize, my lord, but Lady Merry and Lady Serendipity are out for the afternoon. Would you care to leave your card?”
As Duncan pulled the visiting card from his pocket, the sound of men laughing erupted from behind the closed door to the left. He glared at it as he held out the bit of parchment with his name scrawled across it. “Please see that she gets it, Fipps. Can I trust ye to do so?”
“Of course, my lord.” The butler took the card, placed it on a silver salver, and set it on the small, narrow table beside the door. “Lady Merry always checks the table as soon as she returns, but I shall remind her, just in case.”
“Thank ye, Fipps. Forgive me for doubting ye. But I know ye’ve yer hands full with poor old Walters.”
Fipps glanced at the library door, then took a step closer. “Mr. Walters passed, my lord. Right after you departed Broadmere Hall after Lady Merry’s birthday.”
“Gads alive. I am sorry, man.” Duncan was thankful the butler had warned him. He’d noted how fond all the Broadmeres were of the forgetful old butler. “I appreciate yer sharing that with me so I dinna make a misstep and ask about him.”
Fipps nodded and took a step back, returning to his usual stoic self.
The library door opened, and the duke and another man Duncan didn’t recognize stepped out into the hallway. Broadmere turned and smiled. “Lord Kirkston! Welcome. Merry will be so disappointed that she missed you.”
“As am I,” Duncan said, eyeing the man beside the duke.
“Good day, Lord Kirkston,” the stranger said, his tone filled with a not-so-subtle challenge that Duncan would be more than happy to accept.
Broadmere waved him closer. “Do forgive my manners. Lord Kirkston, this is Viscount Brixham, an old friend of the family.”
“Good day,” Duncan said to the man, spitting out the words as though they tasted bad. He tipped a nod to the duke. “Forgive my rudeness in calling when ye’ve only just arrived, Yer Grace, but I wished to see Lady Merry.” The viscount needed to know that Merry was his, and he best not be sniffing around her.
“Merry and Serendipity have gone to the modiste.” Broadmere gave a heavy sigh. “It appears we have many engagements to attend. The stack of invitations is daunting. Being an eligible bachelor, I am sure you were inundated with the same.”
“Aye, I left Malcolm and my mother to sort through them.” Duncan didn’t like the way the viscount squared his shoulders and threw out his chest when Broadmere had named him eligible. He wasn’t eligible, and Broadmere knew that. It simply wasn’t official yet. If that smirking viscount wasn’t here, he’d be speaking to the duke about Merry and making his intentions crystal clear.
“Why are we standing here in the hallway?” Broadmere urged Duncan and the viscount forward, pointing them toward another room to the right of the entry hall, a fine parlor with a warm, crackling fire. “You should stay for dinner, Kirkston. Merry would love it, and that way, the men would outnumber the women. Stay. Say you will.”
The men would outnumber the women.That meant that feckin’ viscount was staying for dinner. “Aye, Yer Grace. I would love to stay for dinner.” He remembered Angus and the horses out in the dreary weather. “Might yer stable have room enough for my man and the team to shelter? The weather’s gotten colder.”
“He is just a servant,” the viscount said. “I understand worryingabout the horses, but is your man not accustomed to rough weather?”
“Angus is a loyal man whom I value. I dinna treat him like property I dinna care about.” If this cold, ruthless man went anywhere near Merry, Duncan would kill him.
Even Broadmere turned and scowled at Brixham. “I shall have Fipps tell your man to pull around to the mews behind the house,” he told Duncan. “There is plenty of room for your team, and your man can wait in the kitchen and have a warm supper whilst we enjoy our own.”
“Thank you, Yer Grace.” After witnessing the Broadmeres’ care of Walters, Duncan hadn’t doubted that Angus would be treated kindly. The Broadmere family respected a person no matter their station, just as Duncan did.
“Your things, my lord?” His hand extended, Fipps offered a polite nod.
After handing off his coat, hat, and gloves, Duncan resettled his footing as if ready to do battle. “I look forward to dining here this evening, Yer Grace. Thank ye for the invitation.”
Chapter Eight
