Page 36 of How to Capture a Duke

He didn’t want her speaking with his cousin. He knew Spencer’s inquisitive nature had drawn him here, and Tristan was not pleased. He halted at the entrance to the drawing room and took in the sight before him.

Spencer was seated beside his wife on the settee, too close in his opinion. She smiled up at him and laughed at something he’d said.

“You must tell me. How skilled are you at vingt-et-un?” Spencer asked.

“Very. It vexes my brother every time I best him,” Olivia said.

Why on earth were they discussing games of chance? It was an entirely inappropriate conversation in Tristan’s opinion. And why was there so little distance between them?

A shaft of sunlight highlighted Spencer’s fair hair. “We must play together.”

Olivia’s lips tilted in a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

His chest tightened. Her pleasure? Not if he had any say in the matter.

Tristan strode into the room, and Spencer and Olivia jumped apart, startled expressions on their faces.

“I see you’ve met my c…c-ous—Lord Jeffries,” Tristan spat out.

Spencer stood. Olivia was slower to come to her feet.

“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the duchess, Your Grace,” Spencer said.

If there was guilt in his cousin’s gaze, Tristan didn’t spot it. “I can clearly see you have made my wife’s acquaintance.”

“She is lovely and quite charming.” Spencer’s gaze returned to Olivia.

“You flatter me, Lord Jeffries,” Olivia said, then her attention returned to Tristan. “It’s wonderful to meet another member of your family. Is it not, husband?”

His jaw hardened, a condition that kept occurring in her presence. “If you would excuse us, my wife, I’d like a word alone with my cousin.”

“Of course.” She turned to Spencer. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” She curtsied, and with a flounce of skirts, she came close enough for Tristan to catch a breeze of her perfume, then she turned and left the room.

Spencer eyed him suspiciously. “I thought she’d be unattractive. You had me fooled.”

Tristan tried not to scowl. His cousin should not be noticing Olivia in such a manner. “Brandy?”

At Spencer’s nod, Tristan walked to the sideboard and poured two glasses and handed one to his cousin. “I would think you’d be preparing for our duties in Parliament later today, not visiting here.”

“I found my curiosity needed appeasing.” Spencer cradled his glass and watched Tristan expectantly. “Well? Why on earth would you insist on a marriage in name only after marrying her? I consider you stubborn, not blind.”

Tristan took a swallow of liquor. “My private life is none of your concern. And I already told you, you needn’t worry about an heir.”

Spencer raised the brandy to his lips. “And I already told you, that is not my concern.” A shadow crossed his cousin’s face, but it vanished as he lowered the cut crystal. “She is as witty as she is beautiful. Many gentlemen would be thrilled at the match.”

His words made Tristan’s gut clench, and he had an uncommon urge to punch his cousin in the mouth. He swallowed the remaining brandy instead. “There will be no c…c-ard game.”

“Then you’d best inform Her Grace. She invited me to meet her at the Raven Club to play vingt-et-un.”

Over his dead body. He knew exactly what took place at that club. Women donned masks to hide their identities, not just to gamble, but to seek out pleasure. Olivia’s brother and brother-in-law may own the gambling club and she may have attended in the past, but she was now his wife. His duchess. He’d be damned if he’d allow her to set one dainty foot in the place for the sole purpose of challenging his cousin to a game of chance.

“There will be no games of chance at the Raven Club, either,” Tristan said.

Spencer smirked. “I see. You do realize you are acting jealous.”

Tristan whirled to face him. “That’s r…r-idiculous.”

“The only one acting ridiculously is you. If you intend on avoiding her bed, then you should go back to your mistress. After all, how long do you think you can live with a woman like Olivia and not want to bed her?”