Matteo was to meet Peter at their club that evening. Upon arriving, other club members greeted him. A group of gentlemen asked him to join them in their round of drinks, but he declined in his usual joking way.
When he sat down at their customary table, he did not bother to wait for his friend, for, from his experience of Lady Chapman’s ball, Peter was apparently no longer a stickler for time. He could only chuckle at the changes that the married state—the expectant father state—brought about in his friend.
Being a father sounded terrifying to Matteo. To be completely responsible for another human being was terrifying. What if you got it completely wrong?
He smiled humorlessly, recalling his own upbringing.
Being a father—or a mother at that—may make you responsible. But not loving. Not something a child deserves.
The different faces of servants, of governesses, and of tutors sped through his mind. How many had there been to give him the education and training that were required for the son of a duke? Too many, when all he really needed was…
Matteo gave himself a mental shake.
What is wrong with me?
Why was he being besieged by sentimental thoughts? It was rather unnerving.
Earlier that day, as he was walking with Helena and Chastity, he was surprised at his own reaction to her unsaid words.
Matteo had always professed to be a rake. No matter his personal behavior, a well-crafted reputation as a flirt kept marriage-minded mamas and their dangerous daughters away from him. So why had Helena’s opinion of him stung? And why did he suddenly want to confess to her the reasons for his behavior?
When he had taken his leave, he could not help feeling that he was leaving something important behind. Matteo sighed at the gravity of his thoughts.
What is happening to me?
Determined to regain his usual disposition, he concentrated on the first course that was just then served to him.
He was halfway through his crawfish soup when Peter arrived and joined him at his table. Glad to finally escape his own thoughts, he teased his friend.
“Not so late as last time, I am quite surprised.”
“Apologies, I was detained,” Peter said with a mysterious smile.
“By a red-headed beauty, I would guess?”
Peter’s replying grin said it all.
“Truly, Duke, you are the luckiest of men.”
“I do not deny it,” Peter ordered his meal, still smiling. “Sometimes, I question if it is all a dream, but alas, I find that it is all too vivid to be a dream.”
“Vivid.” Matteo teased. “Dahlia has made a poet out of you.”
They ate in companionable silence as they always had. Being now married, Peter only met Matteo every Wednesday night at their club. And, truly, Matteo could not begrudge his friend the happiness he had found.
“And how fare Mary and Claire in this second season of theirs?”
“Dahlia believes that Mary is to receive an offer of marriage very soon.”
Matteo raised his eyebrows.
“Lord Westerfield.”
“Ah. The suitor from last season.”
“Yes.” Peter smiled. “When Mary told him that she did not yet wish to be wed last season, I thought that he would go and find another willing lady. I am rather surprised that he waited.”
“And will she accept this time?”
