"Good. You will need her. The social side of estate management is just as important as the practical side, and if she has connections among the ton?—"
"She does," Gregory confirmed. "And she is far better at navigating Society than I am."
"That is not difficult," Henry said with a grin. "A trained bear would be better at navigating Society than you are."
"The bear would probably be more diplomatic," Gregory agreed.
Henry laughed, loud enough to draw a few disapproving glances from nearby tables. He ignored them entirely. "I like you,Everleigh. You are refreshingly terrible at pretending to be civilized."
"I am not pretending," Gregory said. "I am simply myself. Take it or leave it."
"Oh, I am definitely taking it." Henry leaned forward conspiratorially.
They lapsed into comfortable silence, both nursing their whiskey and watching the room. The young lords by the fireplace had long since departed, leaving only older gentlemen who seemed content to ignore Gregory's presence entirely.
"You know," Henry said eventually, "you are going to have to do this again."
"Do what?"
"Establish dominance. This is not the only club in London, and men like Weatherby have friends everywhere. They will test you. Try to undermine you. Spread rumors."
"Let them try," Gregory said.
Henry smiled. "That is the spirit. Just try not to actually kill anyone. The paperwork is apparently quite extensive."
Gregory allowed himself a small smile. "I make no promises."
"Fair enough." Henry finished his whiskey and stood. "I should go. But I meant what I said—about being allies. You need anything, send word. My townhouse is in Mayfair, and I am almost always available. Mostly because I have nothing better to do than avoid my mother's matchmaking schemes."
"I will remember," Gregory said.
Henry clapped him on the shoulder—a familiar gesture that Gregory would have resented from most people but somehow did not mind from this man who seemed incapable of false pretense—and headed for the door.
Gregory remained in his chair, finishing his whiskey slowly.
He had come here to establish connections, to build the foundation Anthea had suggested he needed. He had expected hostility, had prepared for social maneuvering and careful political games.
What he had not expected was to actually like someone.
Henry Ashford was... different. Direct in a way that reminded Gregory of his military colleagues. Honest about his intentions. Genuinely interested in practical matters rather than social climbing.
And if Henry was looking for an interesting woman to marry—someone with thoughts in her head—well.
Poppy was certainly interesting. Vivacious, opinionated, utterly uninterested in following Society's rules about proper feminine behavior.
Gregory smiled into his whiskey glass.
Perhaps this friendship would prove mutually beneficial after all.
But first, he needed to survive the next six days.
Six days until his wedding.
Six days until Anthea became his duchess.
Six days until he discovered whether the attraction between them could become something more—or whether she would maintain her walls forever, leaving them both trapped in a marriage of convenience that satisfied neither.
He drained the last of his whiskey and stood.
