“I am Lord Damon Viceroy. I have no need to cozy up to anyone.” His voice lowered. “But it is never a bad idea to have Canterbell’s support. And now.” He stopped before Alexander. “You’ve mucked things up. As if falling off that pleasure barge in the Thames wasn’t bad enough—”
“That was an accident,” Alexander interrupted. “I was a bit foxed.”
“As you were likely last night when you took a young lady into the gardens. Now he’s here, in your foyer, demanding that you be honorable.” Damon snorted. “With his daughter. And not even the beautiful one.”
“Who?” Alexander had no idea what his uncle was talking about. The conversation had failed to make sense since the mention of Freeman, who apparently hadn’t been knocking the front door downearly this morning.
“Canterbell, youidiot.” Damon shut his eyes, as if the sight of Alexander was too much to bear. “You don’t even know what you’ve done. Last evening—”
“I was with Oakhurst. And Lady Maxwell.” Alexander frowned. “At some point.”
“Stop interrupting. You compromised Lord Canterbell’s daughter at the Perswick ball. A fact,” his voice raised a fraction. “Of which I was apprised while attempting to enjoy my eggs at breakfast. Poached, if you must know. Perfect. But they had gone cold by the time Canterbell was done informing me of your behavior because you couldn’t be roused to receive him.”
Well, that explained the early morning banging on the door.
“This is easily remedied.” Alexander flicked a wrist. “I wasn’t at the Perswick ball. I don’t even think I was invited. Lady Perswick doesn’t like me.” She’d tried to seduce Alexander once and when he refused, called him a debauched duke unworthy of her time. “Besides, proper young ladies hold no appeal for me. You’ve warned me away often enough, reciting the dangers they represent to an unwed duke and I—oh.”
No. Impossible. I wouldn’t have.
“Oh, indeed.” Damon smoothed down his coat, with one hand. “Whether Lady Perswick likes you or not isn’t of importance because apparently, you did attend her ball at least long enough to take Canterbell’s daughter into the bloody gardens.”
“But I wasn’t there.” He had no recollection of attending such a tepid, boring event. Alexander didn’t even dance due to…his ability to attract misfortune. No point in embarrassing himself before theton. Undignified for a duke unless the duke was foxed, which he often happened to be. “Pure nonsense. Wait, is this some sort of a jest? Did Oakhurst put you up to this?” Alexander shook his head. “Excellent. I shall have to find a way to get even with that rogue.”
The drawing room door opened barely a crack to reveal Timmons. “I apologize, my lord, but…Lord Canterbell and Lady Sophia wish to be admitted. Immediately. Lord Canterbell is most insistent.”
Alexander’s eyes widened. “You invited them here? No.” He held up his palm to Timmons. “Send them away. I’m not well. Not at home.”
I didn’t compromise some chit.
The pounding in his temples increased.
But neither could Alexander remember…arriving home in the carriage. Or Stone putting him to bed. Not entirely unusual, though he typically had some memory of his nights with Oakhurst. But the previous evening stayed…ominously blank after the incident at the brothel.
“We will not be denied entry, Your Grace.” A distinguished gentleman with a wealth of snowy white hair stepped into the room, his stance reminding Alexander of a boxer about to enter the ring. Disdain, solely directed at Alexander, pulled his lips into a sneer. “I didn’t wish to cool my heels any longer, Lord Damon. This matter is most urgent. The gossip began to circulate before we even left Lady Perswick’s. Now it is rampant.”
“Canterbell.” Damon inclined his head. “My apologies that you were kept waiting. I wished to speak to my nephew privately before our broader discussion.”
Canterbell made a grunt, eyeing Alexander with dislike, not even bothering to bow. Which was quite disrespectful.
The sound of skirts caught his ear as a young woman arrived behind Lord Canterbell, a hooded cloak covering her from head to toe, giving no indication of her shape or features.
Canterbell nudged her forward. “My daughter, Lady Sophia Simmons.”
Slender fingers jerked back the hood, revealing a completely ordinary young woman.
I was expecting a great beauty if I ruined her.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, Lady Sophia’s chin lifted, eyes meeting his with murderous intent. She didn’t look at all pleased to be here, or even triumphant at possibly bagging a duke.
IfI compromised her.Which I didn’t.
Alexander crossed his legs.Hostile chit.
She dropped into the most awkward curtsey he’d ever seen, like a puppet being jerked about by strings. Had he not been so utterly appalled at the situation, Alexander might have laughed.
“Your Grace,” she managed to choke out, with even less respect than her father.
Damon subtly kicked Alexander’s foot, urging him to stand.
