“If I was to hazard a guess,” Blackheart finally spoke up as he stared at Greys over the rim of his snifter.” His lordship wasn’t faking anything.”
Damned Blackheart. They ought to have gone to White’s, after all.
“Call,” Westerley said, and over the next few minutes, Greys stacked his winnings while Spencer shuffled the deck and then tossed out the new hands.
“Are you attracted to her, then?” Spencer returned to the original subject.
“Miss Diana Jones is a lovely lady,” Greys answered without really answering.
But Westerley ignored his cards by now, tapping them on the table and staring across the table at Greys. “You aren’t yet married to Lady Isabella.” The earl wasn’t speaking in jest. As a man who had himself all but broken a decades-long betrothal contract to marry for love, he had some knowledge on the subject.
Greys placed his cards faced down and scrubbed a hand down his face, giving up all semblance that he was indifferent to his situation. “I know.”
“So, you are attracted to her, to Miss Diana Jones,” Spencer confirmed.
“He is,” Blackheart responded, leaning back in his chair. “But he isn’t happy about it.”
“Dash it all. I’m not happy about it. She’s Chaswick’s sister.”
“His illegitimate sister,” Westerley added.
The crux of the matter.
Wasn’t it?
Greys exhaled a frustrated breath.
“But she also happens to be a lady,” Spencer said. Silence fell in the room as all four of them contemplated Greys’ rather twisted predicament.
“You’ve two options.” It was Westerley who finally spoke into the silence. “End this pretend game you’ve arranged. From what I hear, she’s already caught Edgeworth’s attention. Forget about your feelings for her in favor of focusing your attention on Lady Isabella.”
“And the second option?” Greys didn’t like the sound of Westerley’s first suggestion, even though it would mean going ahead with his original plan.
“Allow your heart to rule your head for once and tell Chaswick you wish to court Lady Diana with real intentions.”
“Impossible.” He answered instinctively.
His aunt was going to have apoplexy, and his grandfather must be spinning in his grave.
Miss Diana did not have the makings of a marchioness. Even worse, she could make him laugh one moment and then scare the hell out of him the next. The mere idea of inviting such chaos into his life appalled him.
And yet a part of him wasn’t appalled at all…
“I’d have said the same about Tabetha a few weeks ago,” Spencer offered. “Remember, in the end, Greys, you—not your aunt, not your grandfather, you and you alone will have to live with this decision.
This was an unusually serious discussion to be having over a game of cards.
“And your opinion, Blackheart?” Greys might as well hear from them all.
The duke crossed his arms and sent him a level stare. “Whether you decide to leave her be or court her, make up your mind soon. You’re an ass to string both ladies along much longer.”
Greys knew that.
He scrubbed his hand down his face a second time.
Dash it all,he knew that.
