“Do you two chaps know Highgate here?” Owen gestured toward Hart.
“Of course, good to see you, Highgate,” Upton replied.
“Highgate,” Christian intoned, acknowledging the man. He could barely look at him, though. With his black hair and green eyes, Hart reminded Christian too much of Sarah.
Upton invited the two men to join them, and they accepted.
“What’s the matter with you today, Berkeley?” Monroe asked as soon as his drink arrived. “You look as if you could kill a man with your bare hands.”
“Eh, don’t let it be you, Monroe,” Upton replied. “The lad’s in a state today. Been downright surly since I first laid eyes on him.”
Christian merely grunted.
“I don’t suppose it has anything to do with Lady Sarah’s wedding tomorrow morning,” Monroe said, straightening his already perfectly straight cravat.
Highgate’s brows rose.
Christian narrowed his eyes on Monroe. Why did he have to bring it up in front of Sarah’sbrother? “I’d keep such comments to yourself, Monroe, unless you want me to take your fancy cravat and shove it down your—”
“Whoa!” Monroe said, putting up a hand as if fending Christian off. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Are you going to the wedding?” Upton asked, obviously trying to create a more jovial atmosphere.
“No,” Christian shot back. Perfect. Even Upton seemed intent upon talking about Sarah.
“But you were invited, weren’t you?” Upton prodded.
Christian glowered at his friend in reply.
“Let’s ask Highgate here,” Owen continued. “I’m curious. What do you think of your future brother-in-law, the marquess?”
Highgate shrugged. “Can’t say I think much of him, but my parents seem delighted with the match.”
“And your sister?” Monroe prodded.
Christian wanted to murder Monroe with his bare hands.
“She doesn’t seem to be as delighted,” Highgate replied. “I never thought the wedding would happen, to be honest.”
“See there,” Monroe said to Christian. “Yet another person who doesn’t think it’s the best match.”
“But what do I know about matches?” Hart continued. “I’ve been studiously avoiding my own for years.” He chuckled.
Monroe’s eyes never left Christian. “Do you love her, Berkeley?” he asked simply, settling back in his chair and taking a sip of brandy.
That was it. Christianwouldmurder Monroe with his bare hands. He began a reply, a scathing one. He’d even opened his mouth, ready to deliver it posthaste. But in that moment, the anger completely drained from him. He took a long, deep breath and answered the only way he could. Honestly. “I have no bloody idea.”
“That’s a start,” Upton said, a grin on his face, raising his glass in a salute.
Highgate took a sip of his own brandy.
“How am I supposed to know?” Christian groaned, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead. “Lord knows I tried to court other women over the years. I liked them. I might have married them if they would have had me. How am I supposed to know if it’s different with Sarah?”
Monroe spent a silent minute lighting a cheroot and proceeded to blow his famous smoke rings into the air. “If you promise not to take a swing at me, I’ll tell you something I think you may desperately need to hear today, Berkeley.”
Christian snorted. “I promise no such thing.” He waved down a footman to refill his glass.
“What ifIpromise I’ll hold him back if he tries?” Upton asked with a devilish grin on his face. “Because I for one want to hear what you have to say.”
