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“Weredancing.Why?”
“Is that not one of the purposes of the evening? Circle the dance floor with a lovely girl in your arms? Although, I did not see you do that this evening. Did no one catch your fancy?”
Nicholas downed the remainder of his drink. “The old crone has a different agenda tonight. She wants me in the parson’s trap.”
His statement ensured he had his cousin’s full attention now. “Has she already chosen you a bride?”
“A contract is ready, as a matter of fact.” He moved to the desk and lowered his large frame into a chair.
“So the rumors are true.” Ernest chuckled.
“What rumors?”
“Well, word has been circulating about town of your impending nuptials to a mystery girl. And this was even before your return.”
Just what sort of woman was his grandmother? Her machinations were larger than life.
“I support her,” Ernest continued. “The next generation needs to be secured.”
Nicholas hissed. “Not you, too, man!”
“I am trying to give you some good advice, cousin.” He chuckled again.
“Advice, hmm?” Nicholas stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Youdancedthis evening and now you are giving me advice. Are you fancying matrimony? Because if you are, I would be more than happy to leave the siring of the next generation to you.”
“God, no!” Ernest looked almost horrified. “I am a lot of things but I am not addle-brained.” He opened his arms. “There are so many wonders and pleasures in this world that I’m yet to explore.”
“This could have been you, you know.” For a long time now, Nicholas had wondered what his life would have been like if he were not the heir to the dukedom of Seaton. Perhaps his cousin would have made a better duke…a better man…
“Itwouldhave if my father had been born nine minutes earlier,” Ernest said, “but I am happy he hadn’t been. There was a time when I thought I wanted your title. I know better now.”
Their fathers had been twins, born nine minutes apart, and a rivalry had existed between the brothers. When Nicholas and Ernest were children, that same rivalry had been introduced to them by Ernest’s mother. Her selfishness and jealousy had made her turn her son against Nicholas. But Ernest had broken free and they were more like brothers now than cousins.
“It is incredible what difference a small number makes,” Nicholas said.
“I thank God every day I am not the heir. I cannot fathom marriage.”
“Oh, that would be the least of your concerns if you were duke.” He slid his snifter across the desk and motioned for Earnest to pour him more brandy. He could feel that deep sadness rising to the surface. He cleared his throat and thought of what to say to change the subject.
“Good Lord, Nicholas! Who has the crone chosen for you?” His cousin interpreted his look well.
Nicholas did not respond. He took the refilled snifter and raised it to his lips, the image of Jenny’s smile flashing in his mind.
“Who is the unlucky lady?” Ernest asked again. Nicholas winced. If this marriage happened, Jenny truly would be unlucky. “Surely it is not one of the Morthington triplets? They are the reason I danced in the ballroom with Miss Bexley. I needed to get away from them.”
“I knew there was a reason you danced. In answer to your question, it is not one of the triplets, although I wish it was.”
“Lord!” Ernest sat down. “Is her choice that bad?”
Nicholas nodded. “She wants me to marry Jenny.”
Ernest blinked. “Jenny?OurJenny?”
He felt his frown deepen. “Our?”
“Yes,” Ernest replied. “Jenny and I have grown quite close while you were away.”
“Why don’t you marry her, then?” He winced inwardly at the bitterness in his voice. He did not want to marry Jenny, yet the fleeting thought of Ernest marrying her made bile rise in his throat.
