Page 75 of Tempting the Marquess

His eyes burning, his throat raw with the taste of the bile, William picked up a tiny figurine in the statue-lined hallway and hurled it at the wall. Smiled grimly when it shattered into a thousand pieces. Then he continued on. Just along here was a library, a room hopefully free of guests and containing enough brandy and whisky so he could drink and drink until he forgot he’d ever had feelings for a beautiful, faithless bitch like Lady Samantha Buchanan, or been best friends with the worst of bastards like Alexander Langley, Duke of Southby.

Finally he reached the library. Shoving open the door, he stepped inside the lavishly furnished room with its thick rugs, overstuffed chairs and priceless paintings. Then he slammed the heavy oak shut, leaned back on it, and closed hiseyes.

Peace atlast.

“If you don’t mind my saying so, Underwood,” said an amused voice, “you look like a man in dire need of a large drink.”

William’s eyes flew open in horror. Of all the rooms in all the hallways in Forsyth House, he had to choose the one already occupied. And naturally, as luck would have it, the man reclining in an armchair, his feet resting on an embroidered footstool as he sipped from a crystal glass, was the king bastard of them all. The traitorous Earl of Claremont himself.

“Forgive me, my lord. I thought this room to be empty.”

“No matter. Come in and put your feet up. My nephew keeps a most excellent supply. Go on, help yourself, I already have and they like you far more thanme.”

“I doubt that very much. Janey is a saint and Westleigh resigns himself, but the rest of them tolerate me at most. Ah well,” William finished with a careless shrug as he filled a glass of brandy to the brim and lifted it in a salute, “C’est lavie.”

Claremont tilted his head and stared at him, the moment so long that acute unease iced his veins. How had anyone ever thought this man a foolish drunk? Unlike his daughter’s wide, warm brown eyes, the earl’s were cold and dark with ruthless calculation. Bloody hell. Be careful.

Abruptly the earl grinned and raised his glass. “C’est la vie, indeed.”

“So, Claremont, what brings you to this cozy corner? Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Would hate to think someone is crouching behind the curtains because I didn’t make myself scarce.”

“No, I’m quite alone. I had some business earlier in the evening, but that is done. You find me in retreat from the creatures in the ballroom; not my first choice of evening companions.”

William’s lips twisted before he could control the movement. “Mine either.”

“Always knew we had much in common, Underwood. It’s been a long time since you’ve been to town—tell me, did you ever take another wife? Father a few children, perhaps?”

“No,” he replied curtly, his fingers tightening on his brandy glass as he took a long swallow. “I prefer to be unwed, if you must know the truth.”

“Ah. I envy you. Wives are nothing but trouble, and as for children...you’ve spent a little time with Samantha, so Ihear?”

“I have, yes. A most interesting younglady.”

Claremont frowned. “Hmmm. Unfortunately, London has quite changed her. Used to be a sweet little thing, wouldn’t say boo to a goose, even struck up a friendship with the insufferably dull Standish. He might have been a good husband, although her marital duty would have been a chore. But then he went to France and my word, did she free the shackles.”

“Oh?”

The earl laughed. “Samantha quite fell under Southby’s spell. Spent so much time with him, all hours of the day and night. Whenever he clicked his fingers, she would be over at Langley House...I saw her happy exhaustion when she came home. Obviously there is one room that frigid man melts, the duke must have had her again and again and again.”

“How scandalous,” William replied in his best bored voice. “But you did nothing to stopit?”

“Why would I?” Claremont drawled, taking another sip of brandy. “A doting papa would never deny his daughter her heart’s desire. Besides, a little carelessness, a hasty wedding, and Samantha is a duchess. Or even if his fevered rutting between her thighs doesn’t put a babe in her belly, she’ll still have an extremely powerful friend.”

“This istrue.”

“Ack. If only my wife was as discerning as her daughter when it comes to fucking all and sundry. Who knows where the Buchanans might be rightnow...”

The sound of glass shattering was unnaturally loud in the cozy tranquility of the room. Glancing down as the sharp scent of brandy perfumed the library, William stared at the tumbler he’d just crushed in hishand.

“Good God, are you all right, Underwood? They don’t make crystal like they used to, do they? Let me pour you another drink.”

William shook his head. Christ, he would need ten baths to scrub this evening away. “Don’t bother. I really should be getting back to the ballroom.”

“Wait. Never say I offended you! I thought, like myself, you were a man of the world.”

“I believe our definition of worldliness is somewhat different.”

“Ah. Perhaps, as practically family, you are miffed on Standish’s behalf? Don’t be. I sympathize fully with the marquess’s plight. He goes to France to rescue his friend’s brother, and all the while said friend is relentlessly plowing his field. That is cold. And to make matters worse, Standish is shot twice. I do hope he fully recovers. Bullet wounds to the left shoulder can be nasty devilish things if they become infected.”