Page 60 of When the Duke Met His Match

Eric wore a bashful smile and shrugged him off. “He wouldn’t be Theophilus Clough if he wasn’t still a brute.”

The men laughed together as if they had been old chums reunited, and Odette was more confused than ever.

“Do you two know each other?”

Eric sipped from his coffee with a careful nod. “We served in the military together, in the same division and everything. It didn’t take us long to become friends.”

“It’s true. This one couldn’t figure out the drills for the longest time,” Theophilus chided.

“And this one was the best of them all.”

Theophilus shook his head while he studied Eric. “What the hell happened to you?”

The man lowered his head in embarrassment and sighed. His voice came out as a sad, defeated thing.

“I screwed up momentously.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

THEOPHILUS

Theophilus couldn’t believe he was staring at his old friend's face, tucked away in a questionable pub in Dover. He never thought he’d find him in a place like this, dirtier than a dog in spring.

“What happened?” he asked, leaning an elbow against the table.

With his eyes averted in shame, Eric began, “After you rose in ranks, I had been disgraced and discharged from the army. My drinking got out of hand, and I foolishly abandoned my post when I was needed the most. It seems the very thing that landed me in this position continues to get me in trouble.”

Theophilus’ chest ached as he saw the shame in his friend’s eyes. He never thought Eric would let his bad drinking habit get the better of him.

Back when they were comrades, they would share drinks and banter, but it had never gone further than merriment. It seemed he lacked that control with time.

Eric slumped back in his chair and focused his attention on the coffee in front of him. “After that, my family was so ashamed that they disowned me. I was left with no money, no station, and no home. Thus, you’ve found me here, at a pub I have no business being at.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Theophilus murmured, aware of how different their lives had become.

While he hadn’t been forced to be homeless, Theophilus did manage to make a mockery of his own name. When he could’ve become someone of esteem and value, he chose to drink and have his fair share of women. It seemed their habits weren’t dissimilar after all.

“Don’t be, it was my own doing,” Eric murmured with remorse. “I dug this grave for myself, and now I have to lay in it.”

“I know what you mean,” Theophilus murmured in return, aware of how he had done the same.

Curiosity stitched into Eric’s face, and he looked between them with interest. “That’s how I wound up here, but how did you? As far as I knew, Clough was making a name for himself.”

Theophilus chuckled bitterly. “I managed to taint that name with my own habits. With the hopes of making something better for myself, I tried to be a diligent officer until I met Odette.” Glancing at her, he noticed her slight blush.

“It sounds like there’s plenty of history there.”

They both snickered at that, but Theophilus continued. “She had been a captured French rebel who knew some of those men you spoke with earlier. I was supposed to get names from her to catch them, but alas, here we are instead.”

Eric cocked a brow. “Being locked away didn’t suit you, I presume?”

“Apparently, being in good standing with the English crown doesn’t either,” she murmured.

“They were going to send her back to France, and I decided to join her. It seems I don’t have a better standing than you do, old friend,” Theophilus said with a small smile.

It was difficult for him not to chuckle at how absurd the whole situation had been. He was a soon-to-be duke, fallen from grace, all in the name of love. He had to admit, it sounded like a rather exciting tale. He could only hope it ended well.

“That’s quite the turn of events, I must say.”