Markham let out a short, hard laugh. “I’m surprised you agreed to let your sister out of your sight, Vale. She’s gotten herself into more mischief this season than I would have thought Lady Felicia capable of.”
“I don’t know. I’d say Lady Felicia’s done well enough for herself,” Ciaran said, feeling compelled to speak up for her. “Nash is a good sort.”
Ciaran’s tone was mild, but he slid a curious glance at Markham. Markham was a decent man, but a bit arrogant, not to mention oblivious. Everyone could see Lady Felicia was in love with him—everyone but Markham. Ciaran couldn’t blame her for torturing him a bit.
Markham cast him a withering glance. “Good forwhat? Not a husband for Lady Felicia, I can promise you that.”
“Well,someonehas to bloody marry her, because I’m not coming back to London for another season,” Vale snapped. “If I never set foot in London again, it’ll be too soon.”
“I should never have let you talk me into coming to London in the first place, Vale,” Markham grumbled. “You persuaded me it would be good fun, but it’s been a misery from start to finish.”
“I thought itwouldbe good fun, but that was before I realized we’d have to spend every minute in a ballroom keeping track of the blasted women.” Vale shook his head with a grimace. “Damned if I know how it became such a mess. I blameyou, Ramsey.”
“Me? Christ, Vale. Have you forgotten it wasyouwho talkedmeinto coming here? If it weren’t for you I’d be in Scotland right now, doing what I…”
Doing what? Ciaran broke off, because for the life of him he couldn’t think of a single thing of any value he’d be doing in Scotland. His childhood home, his old friends, Isobel…they all seemed further away now than they ever had. Except now, he no longer regretted it. Perhaps it was just as well to put the past away, and turn his attention to the future.
“Scotland,” Vale scoffed. “For God’s sake, Ramsey, if you truly wanted to go, you’d have done it by now. No, I think your interests lie here, in London.” He jabbed Ciaran in the ribs with the head of his walking stick. “Not but what you’ll have a hard time bringing Lady Lucinda to heel. She’s stubborn, that one, just like her cousin.”
Ciaran snorted. “Bring herto heel? She’s not a hunting dog, Vale.”
“No. None of them are, and a damn pity, too, because the three of them would be a good deal easier to manage if they were.” Vale was gripping the head of his walking stick so tightly the silver lion threatened to snap off. “Do you know she actually had the gall to say she was refusing me for my own good? My own good, indeed.”
She? Ah, it was all starting to make sense now. No wonder Vale was in such a temper. He must have made Eloisa Jarvis an offer, and she’d refused him. Ciaran couldn’t imagine why she would, but he predicted her refusal would be short-lived. He’d seen the way Miss Jarvis looked at his friend. “Give it a few days, Vale. She’ll come ’round.”
“You wouldn’t think so if you’d heard her, Ramsey.” Vale had been waving his walking stick around wildly, but all at once the fight seemed to go out of him and he subsided with a desolate sigh. “I think a man can decide for himself what’s good for him. Don’t you think so, Markham?”
Markham gave a loud snort. “Certainly, unless that man happens to be Lord Nash. Ifheknew what was good for him he’d keep a respectful distance between himself and another man’s lady.”
Another man’s lady?Ciaran jerked his attention toward Markham. Good Lord, how long had he and Lucy been gone? A great deal seemed to have happened since they’d left the ballroom. “Does Lady Felicia even realize she’s your lady? You might want to tell her, Markham.”
Markham’s face reddened, but he didn’t have a chance to reply before Vale interrupted. “Pathetic fools, all three of us. No, no, don’t bother coming down, Nibbs,” Vale called to his coachman as his carriage drew up to the curb. “Just get us the devil away from here. You can drop Ramsey in Grosvenor Square.”
Vale heaved himself into the carriage with an irritable grunt, and Markham and Ciaran climbed up behind him.
“What do you mean, all three of us?” Ciaran asked, once the carriage started moving. “Don’t put me in the same category as you two pathetic, lovesick fools. Lucy and I are friends, nothing more. I’m in perfect control of myself.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then both Vale and Markham burst into uproarious laughter.
“What?” Ciaran looked from one to the other of them. “What the devil’s so bloody amusing?”
“Friends!” Vale exclaimed. “Very well then, Ramsey. You’re a friend who hasn’t spared another woman so much as a glance since you arrived in London.”
“A friend who keeps insisting he’s off to Scotland at any moment, but can’t tear himself away from Lady Lucinda long enough to mount his horse,” Markham added with a smirk.
“A friend who gazes at Lady Lucinda as if he’s scheming to snatch her away and enjoy her somewhere in private.” Vale went off into another peal of laughter.
A friend who’d kissed her. A friend who dreams about her…
But a few kisses, a few vivid dreams—those things didn’t mean he loved her. He desired her, yes, but that had been true from the start. What man could know Lucy andnotdesire her? But desire wasn’t any closer to being love than dreams were to being reality.
Markham was shaking his head, a faint smile on his lips. “You’re the worst of the three of us, Ramsey, and God knows Vale and I are hopeless enough.”
“That’s ridiculous. No one could be more hopeless than you two.” Ciaran opened his mouth to argue further, to deny he had any wicked designs on Lucy, but the words refused to leave his mouth. No, what came out instead was, “Do you suppose she’s…that is, do you imagine she feels—”
“The same way? Sorry, Ramsey. Can’t help you there.” Vale settled back against the seat with a forlorn sigh. “Love is a wretched business. Can’t make head nor tails of it, myself.”
Ciaran glanced at Markham, but Markham only gave him a helpless shrug.
