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Now, I am left with a gaping hole and no mistress, he thought angrily to himself.And to top it all off, Emily is about to marry the one creature I much prefer she stayed away from!
He should have stayed away from her, should have kept his hands to himself. Now, she was a fever in his blood that would not abate, a drug that called his name again and again and again.
Daniel groaned and pushed the covers off of himself as he clambered out of the sprawling mass of sheets that was his bed, running a hand through his thick dark hair as he stumbled out of bed, calling for his valet.
“Percy!” he called.
Almost immediately, he heard the familiar voice answer back, “Your Grace.”
“Prepare my clothes!”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” There was a pause from the valet before he continued, “Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess, has been asking after you.”
Daniel closed his eyes in abject misery. Inebriation was a sweet relief but the headache that followed after only added to his suffering. “How many times?”
“Thrice, Your Grace,” the valet answered perfunctorily, “in the last hour.”
His deep blue eyes squinted at Percy. “What time is it?”
“Close to eleven, Your Grace.”
Dammit! I have slept the whole morning!
In his entire adult life, he had never been so irresponsible. Now, it would seem that he was just like any other dissolute rake in London. The next thing he knew, he would be gambling away the rest of his fortune.
Which, frankly speaking, would not be such a bad idea at all, he thought to himself. A gambling addiction might be a more gentlemanly way to deal with other addictions—if he had the propensity for it which he did not.
It was the tragedy of his life that he enjoyed so few of the pleasures his wealth had to offer that he was now at a loss as to how to divert his attention from the gnawing torment in his chest.
He could, however, marry Emily himself and solve all their problems for the moment, but he found that idea just about as frightening as the thought of her tied to Lord Gregory Pratt in unholy matrimony. In both situations, the one who would ultimately suffer would be none other than Emily herself.
But which one was worse—to have her suffer with another or to have her suffer in his hands?
He found the latter thought to be thoroughly abhorrent but determined that neither could he live with the other. He wanted the best for Emily because shedeservedit—a man who would recognize her for the treasure that she was and cherish her for it.
That man could behim, he realized with dawning horror, except that he was his father’s son, and if that man had taught him anything, it was that he destroyed anything that was good and innocent in his life.
Emily was far too pure for all of that.
“Forget about going out now,” he bit out. “What affairs do I have lined up for tonight?”
“Nothing else, Your Grace, except the Cavendish ball.”
“The Cavendish ball?”
“Precisely, Your Grace,” the valet acknowledged. “The Dowager Duchess instructed me to inform you that the Earl of Hardy called earlier this morning.”
Daniel grimaced at the thought of one of his oldest friends. No doubt about it, Benedict would love nothing more than tomurderhim, and he quite understood where his friend was coming from.
“What did he say?”
“He left when Her Grace informed him you were currently indisposed,” Percy replied, “but Her Grace said that the Earl will be expecting you tonight at the Cavendish ball.”
“He will, won’t he?” Daniel muttered under his breath.
His valet wisely chose to remain silent.
The Cavendish ball…Daniel mused to himself.
