He glanced down at his bare ring finger and grimaced. His parents hadn’t meant to cause problems for him when they’d lied and claimed he was born a year after Theo when they were, in fact, twins. They’d simply meant to ensure that there was no in-fighting between them as to who was the rightful heir to the viscounty.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t at the time realized that Theo and Nicholas weren’t just twins but identical twins. By the time they’d grown enough for that to become clear, the lie had already been circulated through society and there was no taking it back.
His father had been more relaxed on the matter than their mother. As they’d gotten older, he’d encouraged the brothers to do as they pleased and not to worry about who might discover the deception.
Sadly, he was dead now, and their mother had always had an entirely different attitude. She would pitch a fit if they were ever seen together—or drew attention to themselves—in such a way that her lie would be revealed.
An extravagant society wedding would be exactly the sort of affair she’d lose her mind over because, were he to wed, his brother couldn’t be absent without creating rumors of anestrangement, and all it would take was for one person to realize their likeness to each other before rumors would run rampant.
Honestly, he thought the dowager viscountess had blown the entire thing out of proportion in her mind, but she was a vulnerable older lady without a husband, and her standing in society was all she had.
He couldn’t take that from her.
“Blackwell.”
Nicholas jerked, caught off guard. “I beg your pardon?”
Chisholm had approached while he wasn’t paying attention, and a smirk now played at the corners of his lips. “Archibald and I are going to the Regent for a drink. Would you care to join us?”
“I’m needed at home,” Nicholas lied.
Chisholm heaved a sigh. “Come on, old chap. One drink won’t hurt. Surely your mother can wait another hour.”
His mother. Once again, she was the reason he couldn’t do something he might enjoy.
“I’m afraid I really can’t,” he said regretfully.
He was supposed to steer clear of the Regent when he and Theo were both in London unless he was certain that Theo was elsewhere. Otherwise there was too much chance of them being confined in close quarters with other people who might guess at their true relation to each other.
He knew Theo had been going to the House of Lords earlier, but there was no saying how long the session had lasted. They could have finished by now, in which case, Theo was reasonably likely to stop by their club for a drink on the way home. He often needed that decompression time before rejoining his family.
Chisholm relented. “Suit yourself.”
They walked together to where Nicholas’s carriage was waiting. As they drew near, Nicholas noticed that the driverhad stretched out on the nearby grass and was basking in the sun like a cat.
“Sir!” he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. “I didn’t see you coming.”
Nicholas laughed. “It’s a good day for it.”
The driver colored. “Indeed, sir.”
Raising his hand in a quick wave to his companions, Nicholas climbed into the carriage. He settled on the comfortably padded seat and closed his eyes.
His mind circled back to the subject of marriage. Everyone seemed to be doing it lately. Several of his friends had recently acquired wives, and the addition of Kate to their household only drove the point home.
An image of Sophie flashed across the insides of his eyelids, her sparkling blue eyes that were always mirthful and the red hair that betrayed the wildness of her spirit no matter how she tried to tame it.
Why wasn’t Sophie married yet?
She ought to be.
She wasn’t a fair English rose, but she possessed a vivacity that couldn’t be denied. Whoever claimed her as his wife would be a lucky bastard. He knew she’d had offers, but she’d turned them down.
Why?
Was she holding out for someone or something in particular?
Perhaps she wanted a title or a man with a certain level of wealth. She didn’t strike him as the type to care about such things, though.
