One of Evan. One for himself.
And none for his daughters, as though they were not present in the room to begin with.
“You must allow me to pour you something, Your Grace. A fine drink, worthy of your station,” George addressed the Duke directly now. “Perhaps I cannot offer you the same wines thatyou must be accustomed to drinking at your estate, but I can offer you a drink that might remind you of your early days.”
“Father—” Isadora tried to cut in, but George waved her away.
“Two men are talking here, Isadora. It is rude to interrupt,” he chided her.
“I do not wish to take a drink, Lord Morton,” Evan replied, realizing the game that George was trying to play here. He was trying to humble him by bringing up his origins, not as a duke who was born into his title but rather as a man who inherited it in later life.
“Are you certain? You must need it after the long journey,” George insisted, already filling up both of the glasses.
“Yes, because I am not someone to likes live in the past,” he said. “And quite frankly, I’d advise you against drinking either as it might remind you too much of your present.”
George picked up on the jibe immediately and set down his glass on the table in front of him with more force than necessary.
“Very well then,” he grumbled. “No drinks for anyone.”
“Perhaps you forgot to ask the two ladies present in the room,” Evan said pointedly. It seemed that George had a habit of disregarding his own daughters.
“I did not forget,” George chuckled loudly, “but I know them enough.”
I highly doubt that.
“Family, after all,” George continued. “We are family now, too, Your Grace.”
“I would not take too many liberties with that word if I were you,” Evan grumbled under his breath. The thought of being associated with someone like George was… unappealing, at best.
“You know, it was hard for me to accept that my daughter had gone behind my back and chosen a match for herself soboldly.” George winced as he said the words. “But I’ve come to see it as fate’s doing, perhaps.”
Evan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I’m the biggest believer in fate.”
“Oh, but you should be,” George continued. “How else would we get a chance to collaborate together on business? I think that should be the next step forward.”
Evan noticed both Penelope and Isadora shift uncomfortably as their father went on, sharing knowing looks that stated clearly that this was habitual for him.
“I am not in need of any business partners at the moment, Lord Morton,” Evan replied, nonplussed. “But should there be a need, I shall contact you.”
“You are a resourceful man, are you not?” George leaned forward. “Why don’t you makethe opportunity appear?”
“You seem to mistake me for a magician.” Evan laughed dryly, much to George’s ire as he seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated at not being taken seriously. “I cannot conjure opportunities from thin air.”
“That’s not what I know of you.” George’s tone lowered slightly, and for a brief moment, Evan wondered if he knew something that he ought not to. “You are famous in all of London for being mostresourceful. And if marrying my daughter off to you is not enough to make use of that particular skillset of yours, I’m not sure what will be.”
Resourceful.
Yes, that was broad enough. Nothing too specific. Evan felt relief flooding through him as he glanced over at his wife. It occurred to him then that he was not concerned with Georgeknowing the truth, only that it must not reach Isadora.
“If you’ve done your research on me already, perhaps you should also be aware that I do not conduct any sort of deals out of obligation,” Evan replied.
“So then, what is the point of all this?” George stood up. “This little tête-à-tête? I was hoping it would lead to a more lucrative conclusion.”
Evan shook his head. He had met manyopportunist men in his lifetime but was quickly finding that George might be the worst of them all.
“Is it really difficult for you to fathom that perhaps the only reason we visited is because your daughter wanted to see her family?” Evan asked.
George began to grumble something under his breath, but even so, there was not a trace of shame on his face. “Penelope, see to whatever is taking the servants so long with refreshment,” he barked.
