Page 57 of No Duke of Mine

“Champagne for the duke,” Lady Kent informed the young man.

The poor servant only recognized Algernon at the last second. The tray shook, but no glasses fell, thankfully, as he gaped at Algernon and then tried to hide his shock.

Then they both glanced at Lady Kent, but the woman acted as if nothing was wrong with her young lover meeting the man she wanted to marry.

Algernon took two glasses from the tray and sent the fellow away with the flick of his head, as if he’d noticed nothing unpleasant. “To the future.”

“To a happy future for both of us,” she corrected.

“Indeed.” Algernon thought of life with Maggie as his wife and sighed in anticipation.

Lady Kent glanced around at her guests with a smug smile that broadcast her belief that her wishes were about to come true.

She was proudly staking her claim by clutching his arm so tightly.

And Algernon let her think she’d won his favor, but his attention remained with the servant across the room, and his stricken expression.

Algernon stood beside Lady Kent for another quarter hour before excusing himself to find something stronger to drink. It was not long before he encountered the young servant again, saw him flinch at seeing him a second time as he asked for a brandy.

After he’d safely filled the glass, Algernon murmured, “Sensible people usually take my advice.”

“I want to do that, Your Grace,” he promised.

Algernon sighed, because the poor fellow looked frankly terrified. “If that is true, present yourself at my residence tomorrow morning,” he advised. Algernon could find him a position somewhere else easily enough, even without a reference from his current employer.

The young man nodded then hurried away to continue serving others. As Algernon sipped his brandy and stared into the gold-tinged swirl in the glass, he considered what marriage to Lady Kent would have meant for him.

Her fortune would undoubtedly erase his debts and leave money in the bank for later years. It would have ended his anxiety over the viability of the estate. But a wife who dabbles with a servant was untrustworthy. Especially when it came to providing a much-wanted family and heir.

And she was no Maggie.

Maggie was real, warm, and funny.

And what would he give up, truly, if he chose Maggie instead of a wealthy bride?

The luxury of financial ease. Perhaps the support of some of his peers, his friends, in parliamentary debates.

He swirled the brandy again and took a long swallow. He would lose power. Status. Security.

But he might gain…everything that truly mattered.

“You look as if you are deciding the fate of the empire, Ravenswood,” drawled Lord Varley, a good friend, coming to stand beside him by the decanters.

“Only my corner of it,” he promised.

Varley nodded toward Lady Kent. “She’s putting on quite the show for you tonight.”

“Is she?”

“My wife was told there would be a proposal before the week is out.”

“Was she?” He glanced around the room. “I don’t see your wife among the guests tonight.”

“Dreadful headache. I told her to go to bed without me, but she’s likely waiting up to hear all the gossip when I get home from this. There’s a wager at White’s I’d like to win, by the way. It’s up to ten thousand pounds. It’s about you and her and wedding bells.”

Algernon couldn’t keep the scowl from his face.

Varley grinned heartlessly. “My wife tells me our hostess can spend the better part of an hour saying how well-matched you two are without mentioning your name even once.”