By that time, Mantis might be a married man himself.
Watching Westerley wave the colorful balls around with a flourish, Mantis absentmindedly drew his index finger down the length of his scar, the uncomfortable memory of Felicity’s adamant refusal niggling at him.
She’d been distraught, devastated by Westerley’s rejection. Had he merely provided a convenient surrogate to absorb her grief?
“Show me what it feels like. What does love feel like… show me that I matter.” She had called him Axel more than once.
Staring at the top of Westerley’s head as he bent over the billiard’s table, Mantis almost didn’t recognize the unsettling emotion that squeezed his chest.
By God, she had not imagined herself with anyone but him.
Westerley cradled the balls stacked atop one another and stepped away.
What the hell?They didn’t fall. Showing off, the blasted earl lined up the cue ball and collided it with the bottom sphere, knocking it free and sending it into a side pocket.
“What the hell?” Stone’s words echoed Mantis’ thoughts.
Trick balls. It seemed his old friend was coming up with a few new ruses. Was that what love did to a man?
“A bet’s a bet.” Westerley made no attempt to hide his duplicity. Nonetheless…
“He did say, and I quote, ‘balance these two balls on top of one another,’” Mantis pointed out.
Mantis racked the balls while Westerley negotiated his prize. It seemed the earl had known the boon he wanted all along. As he intended to take his new bride on a tour of Scottish distilleries rather than be in London for the season, he enlisted Spencer to act as escort and protector for Lady Tabetha. The girl was a ridiculous flirt, but only so long as the gentleman in question was titled.
Which ensured that Stone, who was the second son of an earl, would be safe from her attempts.
“What of Lady Bethany?” Mantis asked. Because Westerley did, indeed, have two sisters.
Chase laughed. “Jules doesn’t have to worry about Bethany. She’ll be more concerned that her hostess’s chairs line up perfectly than filling her dance card. Last night I caught her measuring the distance between her mother’s candlesticks.”
Mantis frowned, but it was Greys who disagreed aloud. “Would you care to wager on that, Chaswick?”
None of them accepted Grey’s wager, which meant, no doubt, that Lady Bethany was going to get herself into trouble.
A stuttering knock was followed by Miss Jackson’s invasion of their very masculine abode.
“My father is prepared to meet with you.” Looking smug, she requested Westerley's presence.
Her appearance circled Mantis’ thoughts back to Felicity.
For the thousandth time that day.
His failure to withdraw in a timely manner was concerning, but that wasn’t all that troubled him.
The man she eventually married would know she’d given her virtue to someone before him. And he might not be understanding.
The double standard wasn’t just, but such was the way of their world.
Men were expected to possess a fair amount of sexual experience, but women…
Were not.
He glanced out the window, and upon spying two familiar ladies wearing bonnets and pretty day gowns crossing the yard in the direction of Brightlands, inspiration hit.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me.” Mantis pushed himself off the wall and strode purposefully toward the door.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Peter Spencer stopped playing his cello long enough to ask.
