Page 25 of Miss Devon’s Choice

“That comes next week,” the other brother said.

If the greatest trial in these men’s lives was boredom, Christian had no hope of finding much common ground with them. He could spend weeks in his own company and had, for years, lived at his grandfather’s country estate with little variation in activity.

Christian stood and bowed. “If you will excuse me, I have just thought of a matter I wish to discuss with Lord Annesbury.” No one seemed to mind his departure, as they had begun discussing guns and hounds.

It didn’t take long for Christian to locate the married men. They were all in the library, as he had guessed. Christian entered the room to see the marquess, Lord Dunhill, and Lord Berwyn seated while the earl stood before the fireplace, wearing a scowl.

They all turned to look at Christian, standing in the doorway, various expressions of irritation on their faces.

“Easton,” the earl said, the cloud over him lifting. “Come in, man. No need to linger in the doorway. We were just discussing our export laws. Not the most fascinating topic, but one I’m afraid we will run into the ground before the week is out.”

The marquess chuckled, Dunhill frowned more deeply, and Berwyn sighed.

“Perhaps a change of topic would refresh us,” the marquess said. “Come, Lord Easton. Tell us how your grandfather does. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

Though that particular topic wasn’t one Christian wanted to address, he came further into the room to answer. “He is well. During the season he hasn’t had much time to attend to estate matters, so he is catching up on his work.”

“It was my understanding,” the earl drawled, lifting one golden eyebrow, “that you handled most estate matters at present.”

That was true but admitting that his grandfather reviewed every decision Christian made painted neither of them in a flattering light. “Grandfather is very particular about his holdings.” Christian shrugged and forced a tight-lipped smile.

“Never fear, lad,” Berwyn said, his expression lightening. “My father was the same. Gave me a task to do, then halfway did it himself. The old guard doesn’t like to step down before they must.” He chuckled. “Your worries will be fewer after you wed.”

“Fewer?” the marquess said, a crooked smile appearing on his face. “A wife might give a man different worries, but certainly not fewer.”

“Depends on the wife,” Dunhill quipped. All the men chuckled.

Christian was as out of his element here as he’d been in the other room. But he’d already sat, which left him committed to staying for a time. Why must everyone insist on discussing marriage and Miss Devon with him?

When he glanced at the earl, he saw that the man considered him with a very speculative expression.

“Were any of you aware that Lord Easton is a rower?”

The attention of the other men was instantly piqued. All attention turned to Christian.

“Rower?” the marquess said, sitting forward. “I tried to tell my son to take it up at university, but he was never interested. Were you part of a club at Cambridge?”

Shifting in his seat, Christian shook his head. “Oxford.”

“Good man,” Dunhill grunted.

The marquess shot a bemused look at the baron before he met Christian’s eyes again. “Was your team often successful?”

Christian felt the old pride as he considered his answer. Rowing had been something he’d been good at. Good enough that he was met with less derision when he was at the oars than at any other time during his schooling. “My team lost only once.”

During the single contest he did not participate in.

“There’s talk of forming permanent boating clubs,” the earl said, drawing Christian’s attention back to him. “Not just for the university men. I must admit, I would be interested in supporting one. The races are entertaining to watch, and it’s incredible exercise.”

“Think of the bets,” Berwyn said with a chuckle. “It wouldn’t be an exercise most men outside of university could take part in. It’s a younger man’s sport. Have you kept up with it, Lord Easton?” The amusement in the baron’s voice, and his incredulous smile, told Christian what the man expected the answer to be.

“I row as often as I can, whether by myself or with members of my old team.” Of course, it had been months since he’d seen any of those other men. It had been a challenge issued by one of them, to maintain good rowing form for at least a decade after they left Oxford.

They had never truly befriended him during their time at Oxford. It would’ve hurt their own social status, most likely. But they appreciated his abilities and respected him.

With the conversation successfully turned from marriage and wives to sport, Christian settled in. The earl had purposefully changed the topic to one that would put Christian in a good light before the other men. Christian would have to find a way to thank the earl later. Though perhaps this was just part of the man’s favor, granted for Christian’s agreement to allow Rebecca to see her sister.

He hadn’t been in the countryside for more than a day, but already he had more to sort out in his thoughts than he wished. Hopefully, Miss Devon would be restored to a more reasonable frame of mind before he spoke to her again.