Though he’d long ago accepted his role and responsibilities as his father’s heir and eventual head of the family, he wished that just once he could get through an evening or an event without having to prevent some crisis. With nearly a dozen younger cousins—several of which were out in society—there was no end to the trials and troubles he was forced to address as the eldest and de facto custodian of his generation.
Tonight, he was already tasked with the duty of playing escort and protector, not only to his younger sister but to two of his female cousins, as well. And, of course, his cousin Jarret Balcomb decided it was the perfect time to end up in some mysterious dire straits that obviously required a hasty note and a frantic plea for immediate assistance.
Ralston was astonished and furious that the reckless reprobate had actually dared to bring his latest trouble to the Byrne ball tonight. Considering Jarret’s ceaseless propensity for shocking and disreputable behavior, his cousin’s presence could easily devolve into a scene of scandalous proportions. And that was something Ralston had to prevent at all costs.
His only option was to deal with whatever this was quickly and effectively. Any time spent away from the ballroom gave his sister and cousins more time to create trouble of their own. Taken individually, the three young ladies in his charge were easy enough to manage. But when they were together…
His shoulders tensed and anxiety flashed through his mind.
Suffice it to say that Ralston knew better than to underestimate them.
Crossing the main entry hall, he strode to the small sitting room where the footman had indicated Jarret was waiting. His younger cousin was sprawled in a large captain’s chair, a drink in hand.
Ralston closed the door securely behind him. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?”
Jarret glanced toward him as he spoke and flashed an unrepentant grin. “Having a splendid night, is what. And you, cuz?”
By the slur in the man’s words, Ralston knew he was already foxed. “You know exactly what I’m doing,” he retorted. “I’m escorting our sisters and Bridget to the first ball of the season. A duty you were also tasked with, I might add.”
Jarret snorted. “As if I’d be caught dead at a debutant ball.”
“Yet, here you are,” Ralston noted stonily.
“Only for a moment,” Jarret replied, hauling himself unsteadily to his feet. “I just need a quick loan.”
Ralston clenched his teeth. The reprobate wanted money. He always wanted money.
“Thatis your blasted emergency?”
“A couple thousand pounds should do it,” Jarret said with a sloppy grin.
“No.”
“Aw, come on, cuz! One thousand then.”
Ralston narrowed his gaze. “Are you telling me you’ve already spent your monthly allowance?”
“Ages ago. And my dear mum won’t give me anymore.”
“Neither will I.”
Jarret’s flushed features dropped into a petulant frown. “But there’s a lovely new bird at the Lyon’s Den. She’s expensive—andFrench—but apparently worth every bit of what she charges. Come on, cuz,” Jarret pleaded as he stumbled forward. “I’m desperate.”
“You’re foxed and you’re delusional,” Ralston replied without an ounce of sympathy as he grabbed his younger cousin by the arm and started walking him forcefully toward the door. “And you’re going home.”
“Fuck, Ralston,” Jarret grumbled. “A couple thousand means nothing to you, but I’d give me the night of my life.”
Ralston didn’t reply as he opened the door and quickly surveyed the entry hall. Gratefully, no one else was about. He couldn’t have any witnesses to this cousin’s disgraceful behavior and the best way to ensure that was to get the cad out of there. Swiftly.
Keeping a firm grip on Jarret’s arm, he shoved his cousin from the study.
“You’re twenty-four, Jarret, and will someday become the Marquess of Loxmarch. It’s time for you to grow up and start taking responsibility for your life and your position.”
Jarret snorted in disgust. “I’ve got plenty of time to become old and irreparably stuffy like you.” He gave Ralston a sly look. “In fact…you could probably benefit from a visit to the Lyon’sDen yourself. It’d do you good to live a little. Get wild and enjoy life.”
“My life belongs to the Fairchild family and the ducal legacy,” Ralston muttered under his breath.
“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Jarret insisted, warming up to the topic. At least he wasn’t resisting Ralston’s guidance from the premises. “I reckon you deserve to ignore all that for a bit and do some living for yourself. I can put in a good word for you over at the Lyon’s Den, get you one of their best girls…”
