Damien found himself unexpectedly grateful.
“Come,” Laurent said, gesturing towards the terrace doors. “A cigar?”
Damien welcomed the distraction from a certain lady.
They stepped outside into the cool evening air where several lanterns illuminated the stone terrace. The sounds of the parlor became muted behind the closed doors. Laurent produced a cigar case, offering one to Damien before lighting both. For several moments they stood in companionable silence, watching the darkness settle across the gardens.
“How fares Scotland?” Damien eventually asked.
Laurent exhaled a stream of smoke.
“Quite well. The investments have been prosperous this year. Better than expected, if I'm honest.”
“You always did have a talent for making money.”
“I learned from the best,” Laurent smiled.
Damien snorted. “I sincerely hope not.”
“I did,” Laurent replied. “Though you make it sound like a terrible burden.”
“It is a terrible burden, running the estate,” Damien said as he pressed the cigar to his lips.
Laurent laughed softly.
The conversation shifted naturally towards estate matters, tenant concerns, and various business interests. It was familiar territory, one Damien preferred. Numbers were simpler than people. Estates behaved predictably. Investments could be managed logically.
Human emotions, however, possess an unfortunate tendency to ignore reason entirely.
Which was perhaps why Laurent's next comment caught him off guard.
“I've noticed something,” Laurent said at last, turning slightly to lean against the stone balustrade.
Damien immediately disliked the tone. “Have you?” he asked dryly, lifting his cigar to his lips.
Laurent nodded, smoke curling around his head as he exhaled. “You spend a remarkable amount of time speaking with Lady Seraphine.”
Damien stiffened. Only slightly. Unfortunately, Laurent noticed.
“She is merely an acquaintance,” Damien replied, keeping his voice deliberately neutral as he flicked a speck of ash over the terrace railing. “Nothing more.”
His brother raised an eyebrow and regarded him with obvious skepticism.
“Is that so?” Laurent asked, lifting a brow as he leaned casually.
“Yes,” Damien said curtly, taking a slow draw from his cigar.
“Hm.”
Damien hated that sound.
Laurent took another draw from his cigar, looking entirely too amused as smoke curled into the night air between them.
“I have never seen you give that much attention to a lady before,” he remarked, studying Damien far too closely for comfort.
“There is no attention,” Damien replied, folding one arm across his chest and fixing his gaze on the gardens.
“Of course.”
