“Don’t threaten me, Robert. I already have enough rope coiled over my head to hang a regiment.” He grimaced when the viscount’s dour expression didn’t change. “Look. I am not used to honey-coated sentimentality, so I’ll ask you directly. What happened?”
“Ha! As if you didn’t know!”
“If I did know, obviously I wouldn’t be asking.” Lucien paused, studying Robert’s set features, and the circles beneath his eyes. He hadn’t been the only one awake all night, apparently. Perhaps it was even for a similar reason. “You truly care for Rose, don’t you?”
“That doesn’t signify. And I won’t provide you with any amusement by expressing my feelings in your presence. You did fool me; I’ll admit that. But I won’t sit at your knee waiting to be humiliated like your other toadeating friends.”
Now things were beginning to make sense. “You spoke with my aunt last night, didn’t you?”
“I will not betray a confidence.”
Lucien lifted an eyebrow. “She lied, you know.”
Robert stopped his retort and stared at him. “What? Who lied?”
“My aunt. She’s turning into a little Iago, spreading venomous tales in every direction.”
“Tales—like what?”
“That, I don’t know. You’ll have to volunteer some information first.”
The viscount hesitated. “How do you know she lied, if you don’t know what she said?”
“The odds are in my favor,” Lucien said dryly.
“I feel as though you’re setting me up for a good laugh.”
“I’m not.”
Robert sighed. “All right. She told me you were marrying Rose—that you had meant to all along and were only pretending otherwise in an attempt to make a fool of me.”
“Hm. I would already have succeeded in making a fool of you, if any of that were true.” He glanced away from his companion’s suddenly hopeful expression. He wished Alexandra were so easy to please, but she had a much more suspicious nature than the viscount.
“You’re not going to marry Rose,” Robert said slowly.
Lucien frowned. “For God’s sake, no! Why would I want to do that?”
“Because she’s a delight.”
“Well, I grant you that she’s not as horrid as I originally thought,” he conceded reluctantly, surprised that seeing Robert out of the doldrums actually made him feel…good. Sweet Lucifer—next he’d be drinking tea and gumming biscuits with the old wags at Almack’s.
“So you’ve…you have no objection to my asking for her hand.”
“You may have the rest of her, as well.” Lucien couldn’t help grinning at Robert’s obvious elation. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t make me skewer you earlier?”
“I was tempted to try my luck.” The viscount shook Lucien’s hand vigorously, then sobered. “Why the elaborate deception, then?”
If Robert thought Fiona’s deceptions were elaborate, he hadn’t seen anything yet. “Join me at White’s for luncheon. It’s a long story, and will ultimately involve me owing you another favor.”
“By all means, tell me, then.”
This time Lucien hesitated. “It also requires your discretion.”
The viscount put out his arm, stopping both of them. “Wait a moment. The Earl of Kilcairn Abbey is asking for mydiscretion?”
“And your patience.”
Robert smiled, disgustingly happy at having his own problems vanish. “You have them both. But by God, they’re going to cost you one hell of a favor.”
