“For your information, I wasn’t drinking.”Because I was too busy kissing the one chit you told me stay away from.“Is this what sobriety feels like? I don’t like it. I like it a’tall.”
“You didn’t drink at the reception,” the marquess said dubiously.
Everett straightened in his seat. “No. Well, I had a glass or two. I’m not apriest. But I didn’t even nip into the bottom half of the decanter, and what do I get for my trouble? A drum rattling around into my skull.”
“Your head is cleansing itself of its dependency on drink.” Hollibrook sipped his coffee. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?Bloody hell, I might as well start drinking again right now.”
“Then you’ll just have to start all over again.”
“Is this responsibility?” Everett moved his tongue around his mouth, as if he’d tasted something sour. “Because if it is, I don’t like it.”
Hollibrook snorted. “Finish your coffee, eat some food, and the drumming will subside.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because not so very long ago, I was sitting where you are. Which brings me to a different topic of conversation. The Wayward Dukes.”
“I’ve no interest in your secret club.” Raising his arm, Everett motioned for the servant circling around the room with plates of bacon to come over to their table. Helping himself to no less than three plates, he piled the thick cut slabs of bacon onto one and got to work cutting bite-sized pieces.
“It isn’t a club. It’s more of a…unofficial coalition.”
Stabbing a square of bacon with his fork, Everett popped it into his mouth and chewed. “Not interested in that either. If my father wanted me to be a member, he’d have told me about it himself. Since he didn’t, I’m not. Nor do I want to be.”
“I am sure that he would have told you about had he not taken ill so suddenly. That leaves the task to me.”
“Is your son a part of thiscoalition?”
Hollibrook inclined his head. “He will be. Being a duke is a great honor, but it can also be a great burden. My father wanted to create an inner-circle of support amidst his peers. A group of gentlemen that could rely on each other in times of trouble. Particularly where women and marriage are concerned.”
Everett’s fork halted in midair. “What did you say?”
“Marriage.” Hollibrook grinned at his friend’s pained expression. “One of our greatest duties, as a duke, is to marry well and produce a legitimate male heir. I’ve done it. My father did it.Yourfather did it, or else we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation. Now the duty falls to you, Aikens. And should you require assistance, the Wayward Dukes are here to provide it.”
“Can a man not enjoy his bacon without a side of holy matrimony to ruin it?” Everett grumbled, glaring at Hollibrook and then down at his plate as his appetite abandoned him. “I’ll find someone to marry eventually. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe the title and all that goes with it would be better off passed to Cousin Eustice.”
“Having met Cousin Eustice, I’d have to disagree with you.”
“Did the Wayward Dukes help you with Amelia?”
At the mere mention of his wife, Hollibrook’s gaze took on a warm, affectionate glow. “They did, and our numbers have only grown since then.”
“How many dukesarethere in England?”
The marquess shrugged. “Who knows? Certainly more than there used to be. If you were to search for a bride, this house party would be an excellent place to look. Some of the finest families from London to Lancaster are here, and their daughters with them.”
Again, Everett thought of Daisy.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“If my father wanted me to be part of your exclusive little club, he would have told me about it. But he didn’t.”
“As I said, it was likely an oversight. I’m sure he would have, had he lived longer.”
“My father considered me to be an embarrassment,” Everett said flatly. “Or else I wouldn’t have spent the majority of my adolescence at boarding school. Had his solicitor not talked him out of it, the title would already skipped me and gone straight to Cousin Eustice.”
Hollibrook sighed. “Richard was a…complicated man. But he did love you–”
