He frowned. Where had that come from? Optimism was actually in short supply these days.
“Well? What say you?” Edward’s voice pulled Ambrose out of his messy reverie and prompted him to draw another deep breath.
“I say it’s a bloody ridiculous scheme.” Ambrose turned and looked at his friend, who had a wide-eyed, hopeful—optimistic, even—expression on his face. “But, hell, why not?”
Edward’s eyes widened further. “Are you serious, Pen? Gads, I’m shocked. I expected a fight.”
“I can give you one if you like.” Ambrose went to the sideboard and pulled the stopper from the brandy decanter. “Want one?”
“A drink or a fight?”
“Either. Both.”
“Just a drink. A half measure.”
“Like I said, it’s a ridiculous scheme. A lark. And I shall treat it as such.” He passed a glass to Edward. “Other than to be profoundly amused, I have no expectations at all.”
“You’ll change your tune when you see the young lady, I guarantee it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt she’s a pretty little thing.” Ambrose took his chair again. “But she’s obviously unsuitable. Unless we’re talking about bedding rather than wedding.”
A brief look of shock crossed Edward’s face. “I can assure you, Pen, Miss Page is a respectable young woman. To quote Dove-Lyon, as pure as virgin snow. And very wealthy. Her father had many business connections to the aristocr—”
“Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.” Ambrose took a sip, savoring the flavor on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. It helped to quell the bitter taste put there by the words currently spilling unhindered from his mouth. It wasn’t like him to be so ungracious, but courtesy seemed to have abandoned him. “Couldn’t care less about her money and I can assure you, the girl’s virtue is at no risk from me. I shall merely take great pleasure in watching her dig her wealthy-but-decidedly-common claws into someone else.”
Edward sighed, audibly. “May I remind you of your recent declaration?”
“I have no idea to what you are referring but no, you may not.”
“Too bad. How aboutexpectations,false pleasantries, andtoadying? Do they mean anything to you?”
Ambrose huffed and scowled into his glass. “Well, they certainly don’t mean I’m prepared to offer marriage to the lowly daughter of a tradesman, not to mention making her the mother of my children. I’m not that bloody desperate. Hell, Eskdale, I thought you knew me better.”
A spell of silence followed, one where the bitter taste on Ambrose’s tongue returned, worse than before.
“I see. Then perhaps we should just forget the whole thing.” Edward knocked his drink back, set his glass down, and rose to his feet. “I’ll tell the Black Widow she was right.”
Ambrose looked up. “Right about what?”
“That you’d refuse to do this.”
He wasn’t sure if he was offended by his friend’s comment or the fact that his reaction had been a subject of discussion between Edward and Bessie Dove-Lyon. Either way, he refused to be predictable. “I haven’trefused, exactly.”
“Bollocks. You’ve just made it patently clear that you could never consider Miss Page as a potential bride, and I respect your decision. And you’re correct. I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.” Edward headed for the door, squeezing Ambrose’s shoulder as he went by. “Never had you pegged as a prig till now, Pendlewood. Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.”
Behind him, the door opened and then closed with a quiet click, leaving Ambrose alone with a rather ominous sense of regret. Or was it guilt? Both, he decided, and closed his eyes. “Damn you,” he muttered, and then threw the rest of his drink down his throat before rising to his feet. “Damn you,” he said again, setting his glass on the table and then heading out into the hallway.
“Eskdale, wait a minute,” he called as he approached the foyer, where Edward was about to put on his coat. “Against my better judgment, I’ll consider the proposal, but on one condition.”
Edward gave him a guarded look. “Which is?”
“No interference from you from now on. And I mean none at all. No opinions, no questions, no unsolicited advice. Not even a certainlookacross whatever ballroom we’re in. You will tell me only which invitations to accept. Barring a disaster, I’ll show upand give this young lady my consideration. But you must leave me to my own devices and allow me to act as I see fit.”
“That was always the plan,” Edward replied, shrugging his coat on and nodding his thanks to the footman. “I’m pleased you changed your mind, Pen. I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
Ambrose clenched his fists and sucked air through his teeth. “Which is an opinion, damn it. Did you not hear what I just said?”
“My pardon.” Edward winced. “It’s the last one. I swear.”
