Interesting.
“What will you drink?” Bray asked.
“Oh, nothing for me,” the man said, brushing a hand down the ends of his neckcloth. “I never take a sip when I’m on official business for the Prince.”
Official business?
Bray had to admit he was curious. He had talked with the Prince on several occasions and they had even played a few games of cards together, but he couldn’t say he knew the man well. The Regent had also sent a personal note of condolence when Bray’s father died, but he had never personally sought Bray out before.
“How is the Prince?” Bray asked.
“Well, quite well, but he will be even better once he knows he can count on you.”
Bray knew he hadn’t stepped into the political realm that was expected of a duke, but there were other pressing matters that needed to be handled first. It was important that he make visits to all his estates and meet with all his managers and collect information on all that he had taken charge of since his father’s passing.
“Surely the Prince doesn’t doubt my loyalty to the Crown.”
“No, of course not, but before we go further, I have to say that anything we discuss must be kept in the strictest of confidences. You understand, don’t you?”
“I think the Prince knows that or you wouldn’t be here.”
“True. The Prince will be glad to hear that.” The man smiled. “But it must be said so there is no doubt or future chance for misunderstandings among us.”
Bray’s curiosity moved over to suspiciousness. What could the Prince possibly want with him?
“Understood.”
“Good.” Mr. Hopscotch ran his hand down his perfectly tied neckcloth again. “It seems the Prince has wagered on whether or not you will be wed to Miss Prim by the end of the Season.”
Bray eyed the man coldly. “I’m told every gentleman in London has placed his bets.”
He knew the Prince was an excellent gambler by instinct and a rabid gambler by choice, but he thought the Prince usually stayed away from the bizarre wagers. And Bray put whether or not he would marry Miss Prim into that category.
“When do you plan to marry her?”
“That hasn’t been settled,” Bray said lightly.
“We know. That’s exactly why I’m here. The Prince would like for it to be.” He leaned forward and added, “Soon.”
Bray grimaced. He didn’t like the way the man had said the last word, as if he were giving an order he expected to be obeyed. Bray had never been any good at obeying.
Mr. Hopscotch relaxed in the chair again and continued. “Most definitely before the end of the Season, he would like to see you not just engaged but married to Miss Prim.”
“The Prince thinks he has a say in this,” Bray said cautiously, his suspicions growing.
The man smiled. “He believes so, yes.”
Bray studied the man’s eyes, which stayed steady as a rock. “Why?”
Mr. Hopscotch looked around the room as if to make sure no ears were within hearing distance and then said, “He was recently having dinner with the Duke of Norfolk and the Duke of York as well as some other gentlemen. They managed to get a friendly wager going as to whether you would make good on your promise to Lord Wayebury to marry his sister.”
Bray remained passive. He thought this visit was political. He’d heard a lot of rumors about the Prince over the years, but he’d always given them a wide-open window of doubt because Bray was very familiar with how far rumors could stray from the truth.
“The Prince should have better things to do with his time than indulge in such frivolities.”
“Smirk if you want, Your Grace, but the gossip behind this story of you and Miss Prim is riveting, is it not?”
“Riveting?” Bray laughed.
