Page 30 of The Duke’s Wager

The water was cool against his face, and he coughed, the nausea almost overwhelming him again. He had a job to do – he could not feel this way all day.

“Richard!” His valet came rushing in at the sound of his name, and Edward dizzily sat down. “Please… I need a shave.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Edward closed his eyes as the other man lathered up his face before scraping it off with the steel blade. He could almost fall asleep again – so exhausted and awful he felt. He opened one eye and looked at the man pleadingly.

“Tell me you have a cure for what ails me.”

Richard almost smiled but kept his composure. “My lord? What is it that ails you?”

“God, Richard, I beg of you… do not mock me when I feel this way. I have no idea what it was that Mr. Wintle gave me to drink, but I am rather certain that it shall kill me.”

“My lord, my father, in his travels, had heard of quite a few remedies to consider after a night of drinking.”

“Give me one,” Edward pleaded. “I beg of you.”

Richard finished shaving before standing back with a curt nod. “Certainly, my lord. I will be back shortly.”

When he returned, it was with a rather foul-smelling bowl, and Edward grimaced. “Heavens, what is that?”

“Eel, my lord – and bitter almonds. An old remedy, but an effective one – or so I hear.”

Though he was loath to try it, Edward knew that he had no choice – not if he still wanted to grovel in front of Lucy Beaumont today. “Fine. Let me try it.”

The slippery jellied eel slid down his throat, and a disgusted shiver ran down his spine. He quickly followed it with a handful of almonds. Though the texture was most certainly an improvement, Edward had to admit that the bitter taste was almost as disgusting as the eel had been.

“God, are you trying to kill me?”

He shivered again, and Richard shook his head with a stern expression. “No, my lord. I am merely trying to cure your… ailment.”

Edward grimaced at this.

“Remind me never to drink again.”

Richard kept a straight face and nodded. “Indeed, my lord, it would seem like a prudent idea.”

Edward glared at the other man and coughed.

“Thank you, Richard.”

The other man nodded and turned on his heel. Edward groaned as he stood from the chair. Oddly, it seemed as though the greatest brunt of nausea had indeed disappeared.

He rummaged through his clothes. Only his best suit would do for today’s job.

Only when he was almost out the door did the realization hit him: he had no idea where Lucy Beaumont lived. There was, unfortunately, only one person who would be able to help him with this matter – and it was not someone he truly wanted to ask.

Yet, he had no choice. Even though he knew he was about to be bombarded by questions, he hesitantly made his way to where the Duchess sat in the drawing room.

“Pretending to read, are you?” He teased her with a grin and laughed out loud when she closed the book with a huff, turning to face him.

“I trust you had quite a pleasant evening last night,” she said. Edward winced. The parts he could remember were anything but pleasant – in fact, he had made a fool of himself. This, however, was not something he intended to share with his grandmother.

“It was rather uneventful.”

“Ha!” The book fell from the Duchess’s lap, and she glared at him. “You say that as though I am already deaf. I’ll have you know, dear child, that though I am old, I can still hear well enough.”

Edward took a nervous step in her direction, uncertain of what to say. He needn’t have worried, for the Duchess was far from done.