Andrew nodded. “I’d rather it was me. That I can handle.” He consulted his watch and put down his coffee cup. “Now I really must go, if I’m to arrive back before midnight.”
“You’re traveling the roads after dark. It will make you an easy target,” Castlereagh said. “Why don’t you stay tonight for the Carlton House dinner?”
Andrew shook his head. “I declined the king’s invitation. I prefer to be in the country with my children.”
“And the baroness,” Castlereagh amended, eyeing him.
“That goes without saying.”
“Who doesn’t love you?”
“I didn’t say that, precisely.”
“Perhaps you aren’t in love with her.”
“Now you’re going too far.” With a shake of his head, Andrew rose to his feet.
Castlereagh stood and placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “It is only what your good friends will tell you.”
“Mm. Sometimes friends can be the most annoying pests,” Andrew said with a brief grin. They walked out of the club into the street where Andrew hailed a hackney. “Will we see you at Castlebridge if this business is quickly resolved and the shooting party goes ahead?”
Castlereagh sighed. “I will if I’m in the mood for company, but thank you, my friend. I hope you discover who is responsible for this disturbing business.” He started off down the street. “Take very good care, duke,” he called back and patted his coat and the two flintlocks he was never without. “Stay armed.”
Within the hour, Andrew was in his coach on the road to Oxford. He wouldn’t reach Castlebridge until well after dark. Never happy while traveling in an enclosed vehicle, he leaned back against the squabs and closed his eyes as Castlereagh’s words, designed to provoke this very reaction, made him question his future. If Greta married him, was he capable of offering her enough of himself? After Catherine, he doubted he’d fall in love again. The deep well of sadness he carried in his heart would be difficult for any woman to overcome. He folded his arms. Perhaps Greta wouldn’t care.
What did Greta feel for him? It was useless to speculate at this early stage of their relationship. But there was attraction, and some measure of affection between him and Greta. He didn’t wish for more, did he? Greta was a social butterfly. If her social life was vibrant and the marriage bed satisfying, she would be content. He pursed his lips. He might be doing her a great disservice. She might want his love.
