“But they are different.” Their brother was absolutely, unreservedly, in love with his wife.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t go over to his townhouse and talk with him.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Diana agreed.
“I’m only joking, Diana.” Collette turned with a jerk.
“I know.” Would he send her away? “I’d likely just end up doing something scandalous with him.” It was a shame that she couldn’t become a mistress.
“I mean it,” Collette stressed her point. “I was only joking.”
“I know.”
* * *
As much asGreys wanted to, as his conscience insisted, he did not visit Chaswick at Byrd House the morning following the debacle in Blackheart’s swimming bath.
Of course, not going didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make that visit eventually, but if he’d learned one thing by having three of his female relatives living at Knight house that spring, it was that ignoring a lady’s request resulted in more trouble than it was worth.
He had, however, several other notable obligations to attend to, such as reports to read, letters to write, partial betrothal agreements to extricate himself from, and most ironically, he’d promised Lady Isabella he’d escort her through Hyde Park that afternoon.
Ignoring that it felt all wrong, but also knowing he couldn’t very well cry off, he’d dutifully collected the young woman at the designated time in his open barouche. Chaperone in tow, Lady Isabella had sat beside him looking very young and very pretty. And she had exhibited the utmost propriety, greeting all the notable members of theTonas he’d driven at a snail’s pace through the park during the fashionable hour.
Lady Isabella would have fulfilled every expectation he’d had for a wife. She was soft-spoken, elegant, and…
She was dreadfully dull, which was just as he’d hoped. Because with boredom, he had suspected he’d also have peace.
But, sadly, it was not to be.
And as he returned lady Isabella to her father’s house, he’d not requested that she reserve a dance for him at any of the upcoming balls, nor had he invited her driving again. He was going to have to meet with her father eventually, and he doubted that meeting would end up a pleasant one.
As the door to Huntly’s townhouse closed behind him, Greys refused to compare his current state of mind with the damn near physical pain he felt each time he had to part with Diana. His carefully ordered life was collapsing around him, and nothing made sense anymore.
Thoroughly annoyed with himself, he arrived back at Knight House determined to dismiss all thoughts of women for what remained of the evening. Several of his cohorts intended to join him after dinner for a rousing game of poker, and he would lose himself in cigars, gambling, and an abundance of scotch.
And not necessarily in that order.
Yes. Such an evening was just the ticket.
Typically, they might have spent the evening at White’s, but with Blackheart committed to performing his role as butler, they had decided to set up the game in Grey’s billiard room instead.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, the game wasn’t quite the reprieve Greys had anticipated.
Because, with half the participants reveling in wedding bliss, of course, the conversation would center around women.
“Let’s not waste time. I promised my wife I wouldn’t be out all night.” Spencer announced before they were even started.
“When are you and Lady Tabetha leaving town again?” Westerley asked as he removed his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.
“After my mother’s ball. She’d disown me if Tabetha and I failed to make an appearance.” Spencer grimaced as he scooped up his cards. “We’ll head down to Brighten the morning after, see how my brother is faring.”
“It is awfully quiet around here without Peter plucking away at his cello,” Westerley observed.
One of Stone Spencer’s younger brothers, Peter Spencer, had been awarded an apprenticeship with England’s most applauded cellist. And as Peter was practically married to his instrument, the opportunity all but sealed his position as the only bachelor in the Ravensdale family.
Spencer glanced up at Greys. “Tabetha said she saw you driving with Lady Isabella today. She said the lady looked rather like the cat who’d caught the canary. I was rather hoping you’d changed your mind about her.” The jackanapes scowled as he tossed his coins in for the ante.
“Leave him be,” Westerley stared over his cards. “She’s perfect for him. The lady possesses all the virtues our marquess has extolled for as long as I can remember.”
