He gave them the winning smile that had gotten him into many a bed, knowing how the right side of his mouth curled just so that a dimple could be seen when his beard was thinner, which is how he wore it tonight.
“But we do notwantto speak with other men,” one woman pouted.
“Yes, why seek others, when we are in the charming company of His Grace, the Duke of Fairmont?”
He sighed, as if charmed and exasperated by them. “You regard me too highly, but it would be unfair of me to take up all of yourtime here tonight. You are all very beautiful, and any man would be so fortunate to steal you away from me.”
One of the ladies boldly sidled up to him, as she had kept doing during their conversation that, in Lucien’s opinion, had already gone on for several minutes too long.
“Do not go, Your Grace,” she sighed. “I am ever so much enjoying your company. Speak to us more of your work within the duchy.”
“I am afraid I have already talked your senses too thin.” He inclined his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night, ladies.”
To their protests and whines, he walked away, thinking about how, if he had the patience for it, he would have considered inviting the bold, raven-haired lady to his bed, but he had things to do tonight.
Bedding could wait.
There were plenty of balls to attend this Season, so he would not be short of opportunities. Still, regretfully, not finding somebody to bed at the Morrows’ ball, of all places, would linger on his mind. He strode through the throngs of guests, spinning around others when more ladies tried to flag him down.
They were all beautiful, all distracting, but he had just spotted Lord Knightly, the very man he had been keeping an eye out for. Turning his attention to that, he grabbed two flutes froma passing tray held aloft by a server and drank from his as he approached the older man.
“Lord Knightly, just the man I have been looking for,” he said, leaning against the wall next to him. He offered the second glass to the Earl of Knightly.
“Should I be nervous, Your Grace?” the man chuckled. “When a Duke comes looking for me?—”
“It is in regard to the late Duke of Fairmont, Edgar Stanton.” With that, he produced a receipt from his pocket, holding it up between his index and middle fingers. The lord snatched it up, lifting a brow. “Proof of his debts being paid off to you. I can only apologize it has taken me so long. There was …” He paused, laughing under his breath, “a queue, let us say.”
“Heavens,” Lord Knightly muttered. “It must be costing your coffers a fair amount.”
Lucien hummed. “Your only concern regarding my coffers is that they have cleared his debt, and I do hope the Fairmont and Knightly families can remain acquainted.”
“Indeed, Your Grace. Thank you for this, for it has come at a most opportune time.” He smiled, pocketing the receipt. “In fact, to prove we can remain as such, do join me for a private card game. I believe the drawing room has several tables set up.”
“Ah.” Lucien inhaled sharply, sliding his hands into his trousers. “Forgive me for declining, but gambling was my uncle’s vice, one of many, but not mine.”
Lord Knightly snorted, his brows raising in offense at the rejection. “Very well. And, of course, your own vices are well known across the ton. Nobody needs to guess very hard. But it is not gambling, so I will keep that in mind.”
Lucien moved closer, his eyes narrowing. Forgetting his former request to remain on good terms, he felt the telltale sensation that came with feeling perceived.
Of course, that was all part of it, all part of his mask and who he presented to the ton, but it caught up to him at times.
“Do tell me what you mean exactly, Knightly,” he said, pitching his voice low enough to signify a warn.
Lord Knightly’s pleased smile from the debt situation turned wickedly into a smirk. “Come now, Your Grace. Everybody whispers about your … pleasure-seeking with the fairer sex, but you are yet to marry. Surely, as the duke, you ought to think properly about it. Not to mention, with Lady Annabelle’s debut already being delayed …”
He made a point of grimacing.
“It does not look good, sometimes. Your sister ought to have never been granted the delay. It looks … unserious, and you are not merely an heir anymore.”
Lucien ground his teeth, composing himself before he could let his offense show. As long as he hid that vulnerability, or how affected he was, then all would be fine.
He let his own dangerous smile appear as he cocked his head to the side, leaning in close to the earl who ran his mouth far too much.
“Knightly.” He sighed, shaking his head, letting the man know he had just sealed his own fate. “Do keep my sister’s name out of your mouth.Permanently.We have just retied our families’ bond. As easily as I paid that debt, I can easily recall it in another way.” He smiled wider. “So, I would suggest you go on to your card game, indulge yourself in your vices, and keep your nose out of mine. It is in your family’s best interests that you do not damage this alliance. Understood?”
Lord Knightly blinked, his mouth quivering as he fought for a response. Annoyance cracked over his face, and Lucien just kept his smile up. Finally, Lord Knightly nodded.
“Understood,” he conceded. “But be aware, if you cannot endure men speaking of your sister, then you will struggle when she debuts. And it is inyourfamily’s best interest to cut her delay short and get her into these ballrooms while the men are still available.”
