Alaric laughed. “And your sense of humor.”
Indeed, Ronan was dressed entirely in black, as he always was. His hair was dark auburn, messy and untamed because he did not see the point in combing it. His eyes were light green, clashing terribly with the scowl he always tried to wear. He was tall and thick of body, lumbering in his movements, and purposefully powerful in his gait; he liked that people seemed to sense him coming, giving them time to flee.
Ultimately, none of this mattered much, as what most saw—and then remembered when first meeting him—was the deep scar which ran along his jawline and toward his neck. It was no wonder people stared.
“I suppose Sebastian and Cassian are here?” Ronan asked.
“They are.”
Ronan exhaled sharply. “And I suppose they are just as surprised to see me.”
“I would say so—but forgive them if they don’t trip over themselves to come and see you. Not only is your company tragic these days, but they are both rather busy.” Alaric frowned at his friend, a sense of worry now painting his visage. “That’s what happens when you vanish without word. Those once considered to be close friends tend to forget you exist.”
Ronan snorted. “They have better things to do than waste time wondering about me. Marriage will do that.”
Alaric smirked at him. “Spoken like an expert.”
To that, Ronan scoffed, not liking the implication.
Sebastian and Cassian were Ronan’s other two friends, both also dukes, both also once scourges of decent society. And just like Alaric, they too had done as they promised they would not; fallen in love and married.
Ronan was thus the last of the four; a group once referred to as the Wicked Dukes’ Society, since disbanded because there was nothing wicked about them anymore. At least, not as far as Ronan could tell. He was the last and only member; a state of being that had no chance of changing. But that was just because he did not want it to.
He lived apart from society for good reason. He spurned love and companionship, and he would die alone…perhaps not for a good reason, but the right reason. And that will have to be enough.
“So, what is the plan tonight?” Alaric started. As he did, he indicated to a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. “Or am I looking at it?”
The waiter arrived and Alaric scooped up a cup filled with sparkling red wine. The waiter offered it to Ronan, who waved it away. Tonight was not a night to drink. He needed to be in control.
“Indeed you are.” Ronan’s eyes roamed the busy ballroom, relieved to see that the shock of his presence had since died down and the scores of guests were happy to do as they always had done. Pretend he did not exist. “Another hour or so, at the most. Sooner, I hope.”
Alaric sighed. “You know, when you told me you were coming tonight, I thought…” A shake of the head, worry still coloring his expression. “I thought that finally you were ready to?—”
“I’m not.”
“—step out from under the rock and start living again. There’s a beautiful world out there, Ronan. Filled with beautiful people. I just wish you’d give it a chance.”
Ronan fixed his friend with a scathing side-eye. “What happened to you, Alaric? The Devil of Ravencourt turned into a dove.”
“Me?” Alaric’s smile grew and his eyes sparkled. “Simple. I fell in love.”
“Sounds painful,” Ronan scoffed. “Besides, as things stand this Season, as wretched as it is to admit to myself, this won’t be the last time you see me. Sorry to say.”
“Oh?”
“My reputation isn’t what it once was?—”
“Hard to imagine why.”
“—and I need to reaffirm its name and status,” Ronan said, ignoring the jibe. “My tenants are rebelling for better leases. Lenders are starting to treat me as if I am one to be bullied. Some people even assume that I have died and are taking advantage of the fact. This right here…” He curled his lips at the ballroom. “It is a reminder.”
“Of…”
“That the Duke of Westvale is still very much a power to be respected…” He gave the slightest of smirks. “And feared.”
“Lovely,” Alaric said, taking a swig of wine.
Ronan would have liked to have been anywhere else tonight, and he was not looking forward to a Season spent doing what he was doing right now. But he resigned himself to the knowledge that it was just for a Season, and come its end, he would return to his estate, close and lock the doors, and get back to doing as he did best. Living his life alone.
