“I knew you and Ophelia like to be at each other’s throats, but I had no idea it progressed to a literal venture,” Everett said.
Tristan snapped out of his reverie. A sharp spike of pain traveled through his neck as he turned so so fast to glare at his friend, who was smiling like a fool.
“What on earth are you muttering about?” Tristan demanded.
Everett’s dark brow perked up in amusement as he smirked behind his glass of whiskey.
“The way you are staring at her neck like that, it looked like you were fantasizing about ripping her throat out. Has your goading of one another really gotten that bad?” He asked.
Tristan relaxed against the pillar behind him and fidgeted with his own glass of whiskey.
“Something like that,” he murmured.
“You know, she is the only woman I am aware of that makes you forget those perfect manners of yours,” Everett mused. “Why do you suppose that is?”
Tristan’s annoyance grew. He was not in the mood for questions.
“Devil if I know,” he retorted, making an effort to look anywhere but back at Ophelia.
Everett rolled his eyes, then picked up the glass of red wine atop the bar.
“Well, cheers,” Everett replied, then moved to leave.
Tristan’s hand was on Everett’s arm in an instant, stopping him.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
Everett raised a curious brow as he held up the wine glass.
“To my wife?” He said, his voice lilting up into a question as he nodded toward Rose.
Tristan followed his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. Rose, of course, was standing with Ophelia, as was Seraphina, Amelia, and Theo. Subsequently, so were their husbands- all of which Tristan’s friends. They were all together now. All but him. He suddenly missed the days when the five of them gathered near the bar or the smoke room of a party while Theo and her band of friends pressed themselves to the wall.
“Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to join us?” Everett asked.
Stay away,Tristan thought instantly. Yet he knew he couldn’t. Theo wanted him to start looking for a wife and if he stayed by himself very long, the many single ladies in attendance would make their move. He’d felt their intense stares the moment he’d set foot inside, and he was sure that the only reason he had not been approached was because he had not let himself be alone.
“I am coming,” he grumbled, then followed Everett through the crowd.
Yet as he drew closer to his friends, he saw another man come from the opposite direction, and bristled. It was a man that matched the description of Perley- and he was headed straight for Ophelia.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Pardon me, young lady, but may you be Miss Ophelia Wexley?”
With her back turned to the deep voice of the stranger behind her, Ophelia rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to cower.
Here we go. This is what we came here for.She plastered on a smile as her friends all gave her encouraging looks
“Why, yes,” Ophelia replied, turning around, “I am- oh my.”
Ophelia eyes widened as she stared up at the tall, lean, handsome gentleman standing before her. He was older, perhaps by ten years or so, but the faint lines on his face did nothing but improve his handsome features. His full head of pristine white hair was styled and parted to the side, and blended perfectly into a well-trimmed white beard and goatee. His pearlescent smile was warm and infectious, and his dark brown eyes were completely riveted on her.
“How do you do, Miss Wexley?” The handsome stranger asked with a polite tone. “Might I introduce myself?”
Ophelia shook herself out of her stunned silence. She knew she was going to have to interact with eligible men than evening but she had not imagined one so handsome would walk right up to her so quickly after arriving.
“Oh, yes, of course, my lord,” she replied.
