Page 29 of Distracting the Duke

“You? I didn’t have you down as delicate,” responded his friend, reaching for the bellpull. “Since when did a little wetting render the great Duke of Ulvercombe helpless?”

“Not helpless. I just took to my bed for a while and was back in the saddle the next day. Since when did I give you permission to order my servants about?”

“I didn’t want you to strain yourself, since you’ve been so poorly.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Snetty, stop baiting me. I’m not in the mood.”

Unrepentant, his friend gave his order to the footman, then subjected Marcus to a knowing look. “You’re in love, I declare. Fever, irritability, peculiar habits. Definitely in love. I envy you. She’s a very pretty girl.”

Marcus smiled as a picture rose in his mind of the woman who hadn’t left his thoughts. “Occasionally pretty, yes, but striking is a better word. Not quite the fashion these days, but who wants to be a slave to fashion?”

“Not you, that’s for sure.” Snetty hiked his brows. “But do you really not find her pretty? You surprise me.”

“More like damnably attractive. I didn’t realize it for some time, but now I’ve seen the spark in her eye and the passion in her breast. I wish I hadn’t, though. I wish to God I hadn’t.”

“Why? Are you afraid some dashing young buck will steal her away from you?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not really. I suspect she prefers her own company. I’m certain there’s a story there, if only one could find it out. A mystery, a scandal, something the Westons are ashamed of. But she and her brother are close as clams and stubborn as mules, damn them.”

“I didn’t know Miss Soper had a brother.”

Marcus glanced up. “Nor did I. Has she?”

Snetty frowned. “You just said she does.”

“No, I didn’t.”

There was a knock on the door. “Ah, good, thank you,” said Snetty as he took the glass from the footman’s tray. He contemplated the accompanying bottle for a second, then took that, too. “You might wish to bring another glass for His Grace. I’m certain he wants something with which to wash down that vile nostrum. Now then,” he said, turning back to Marcus. “Could you please clarify, is it Miss Soper who has excited this interest, or…dare I say it? Lady Tinniswood?”

Marcus threw back another draught of his willow bark and feverfew, choked, seized his friend’s full glass and took a healthy swig.

“I say!”

“You can have the next glass. My need was greater than yours.”

Snetty’s shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. “Damn me if I know why I ever befriended a future duke. Always put themselves first, these aristocrats. I dare say, I must be satisfied with the sludge in the bottom of the bottle.”

Marcus took another unrepentant sip. “I think my cellars can run to another bottle if need be.”

“Your cellars! You make it sound like you’re sitting on a veritable lake of wine. Tell me, have you finally started flashing the blunt about as one of your station should?”

“I could say I’m now in a position where I don’t have to worry about my finances. However—”

The second glass arrived and Snetty poured himself a generous dose of the wine. “However?”

“I’ve done a rather foolish thing.”

His friend lowered his glass. “Indeed?” He gave Marcus a searching look, then headed for the nearest chair and settled himself down. “Go ahead, spill your tale. I’m always happy to advise. What kind of trouble have you landed yourself in?”

Marcus told him about Clara’s visit and the reasons for it.

By the time Snetty had finished laughing, he was feeling decidedly annoyed.

“It’s no laughing matter,” he grumbled as he stalked across to lean on the mantelpiece. “It’s a matter of life and death. And honor.”

“And lust, and idiocy,” added his friend, wiping a hand across his eyes. “You undressed in front of her! If that doesn’t beat everything!”

“I needed her to leave.”