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Westbury snorted. “One of them is always chasing the other with a pistol. They don’t mean anything by it—thick as thieves, those two.”
Fitzbart could probably be ruled out. “Has Rafe spoken to you about any trouble he could be involved in, or any plans to do anything foolish?”
“More than the usual foolishness? No. As I said, I haven’t seen him in weeks. Been hiding mostly. From my creditors. And my sisters. And their music instructor, whom I haven’t paid in months. Don’t know why the young lady comes back every week to attempt to force some musicality into my sisters. It’s no use. But she’s very persistent, MissBeaton.”
Bickerstaff arrived with a young waiter, who served Drew his pot of coffee.
Drew blew on the coffee until he could take a sip. “I danced with one of your sisters the other night.”
Westbury perked up. “Don’t suppose you tumbled madly in love and offered to marry the girl?”
Drew raised his brows.
“Didn’t think so,” said Westbury glumly. “They’re good girls but they don’t have any dowries thanks to me. I’ll have to be the one to marry well. No respectable lady in her right mind would have me, though. Thinking of trading my title for an American heiress.”
“Best of luck. About Rafe—”
“Heard you waltzed with Sir Malcolm Penny’s ward and that she’s pretty and heavily dowered.”
“I wasn’t aware her dowry was substantial.”
“As enormous as she is purportedly petite.”
Miss Penny was small in stature but she was fierce. Also troublesome, persistent, and irresistible.
He had to stop thinking about her. “I require practicality and fortitude over prosperity,” Drew said.
Westbury sloshed the liquid around in his glass. “I always seem to have these conversations with my friends about young ladies and then they marry them. Had a talk like this with Banksford about his governess. Red-haired slip of a thing, no fortune to speak of, but he wed her. Promise me that you won’t marry MissPenny until I have a go? Give a man a fighting chance. What’s she like? Demure and sweet natured?”
“Hardly. She’s quite the firebrand.” The memory of their kiss was seared into his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Damned pretty is what I heard,” said Westbury. “Laughing blue eyes and ample bosom.”
“Some might see her eyes as blue but they’re a far more complex color. And don’t talk about her bosom.”
Westbury grinned. “Oh, I see how it is.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“If you’re implying that I fancy MissPenny you couldn’t be more wrong.”
“My mistake. It’s just that everyone else fancies her. Marmont was blathering on about how he danced with her twice and she’d soon be his bride.”
Drew nearly spit his coffee onto the table. “That bloodless complainer? There’s no way MissPenny would marry him.”
“He’s even wealthier than you, you know.”
“I don’t think she’s after a fortune. Wasn’t very polite to me while we waltzed.” Enough talk about MissPenny. He couldn’t seem to escape the topic... or his thoughts about her. About their kiss. “Has Rafe mentioned any mistresses whose names begin with the letterF?
“That would be Frances Flynn, but that ended months ago. Wish I could afford to be her new protector.”
“Can you tell me where she lives?”
“Didn’t think you’d be interested in your brother’s former mistress.”
“I’m searching for Rafe and she might know where he’s gone. He appeared at the house last night, drunk as a lord, hit me over the head with a candlestick and fled into the night.”
