Page 22 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

“Hartham. Hardon. Care if I join you both?”

Grayson, of course, spreads his hands wide, greeting me as an old friend. Chase, however, still gives me a wide berth.

“Norhaven,” Grayson cries out as he shakes my hand. “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you. Where have you been hiding?”

“To hide,” I chuckle, “would mean that I didn’t care to be seen. I believe we’ve just been running in separate circles as of late.”

“True,” he muses, rubbing his chin with his hand. “But more to the fact, I haven’t seen you at a certain establishment. One far more enticing than this one?”

At his question, Chase straightens his shoulders and looks off in the distance, but his jaw jumps as Grayson keeps talking. Perhaps it’s something to do with the Rose and Thorne? Not that I care whether he visits the whipping house. I cannot judge a man for something I indulge in as well.

“Forgive me, Grayson. I’ve been occupied elsewhere. Tell me, I heard Henhaven’s name mentioned. Seemed like an intriguing conversation.”

Chase narrows his eyes. “What is it to you?”

“Come now, Chase,” Grayson laughs. “What has you in such a mood? You were jolly not five minutes ago.”

“I fear it must be the change in my humors,” he replies, keeping his tone low and even.

“Yes,” Grayson confirms. “We were just talking about Henhaven. We are at odds in Parliament. In a friendly way, of course.”

“But of course,” I murmur. “Tell me, is he as odd and eccentric as others say?”

They both look at each other with a mirrored expression of puzzlement. But of course they probably haven’t heard as much. I merely plant the seeds and hope they grow.

“No,” Grayson replies. “Not that I’ve seen or heard. He seems an altogether affable fellow.”

“Hmmm. And his gambling debts?” This time, they both laugh, even Chase.

“Forgive me for being so bold to one so much older than me,” Chase smiles in a mischievous, snake-like manner. “But you shouldn’t listen to idle or tavern gossip. Henhaven? A gambler? When would he have the time?”

“Yes. I’ve heard of his sisters. Six, I believe,” I say, my heart sinking as yet another avenue shuts before me.

“I can’t imagine so many women in one house,” Grayson chuckles. “Hell and damnation. I was thrilled when Augusta got married off.”

“In truth,” Chase muses, “was it her absence or the breath of relief you could breathe knowing such mischief was for someone else to handle?”

“Isn’t that the truth!” Grayson cheers as he gives a triumphant nod.

None of this helps me in any way. Let them prattle on about women I care nothing about. “Gentlemen,” I murmur as I nod and leave. Perhaps the card tables in the back will provide better conversation.

As I sit at a chair by myself, I watch the others as they come in and out. Where would Henhaven be on a day like today? Though it isn’t unheard of that he would be here in the back playing cards, I do find it odd he didn’t stop in once to read one of the many papers. But then, none of my other friends are here either.

They’re probably all at home with their wives, lazing about in the bed as they start their day in a far less cold and lonely manner. My fingers grip into a fist as I close my eyes. Such violent and furious emotions swirl through my veins as I sit there, doing my best to appear unassuming as I listen to the gossip around me.

Every single one of them, married and bound, mated for life with the woman they chose. Or, in some of their cases, as with Augusta and Benedict, with the woman who chose them. Either way, they all seem happy and content.

Not once do they seek out the Rose and Thorne to have their lurid needs met. No. That is now for me, who is unwilling to look for another who could quite possibly meet my nefarious wants. Why should I when I know my perfect match is here, wanting me as much as I desire her?

Damn Lewis and his talk of duty. What good is duty when it costs you the one thing you crave the most? But then, I should also damn myself for not knowing then what my heart knows now.

She was an annoying slip of a girl at the Twelfth Night celebration. She was eager, untrained, and willing to learn. God, the way she responded to my crop when I smacked it across her ample backside…

No. I knew then. To say otherwise would be to lie to myself. I was just too cowardly and too duty-driven to actually listen to my heart.

As I muse over these ugly emotions, a flash of movement whisks by me, disturbing the air. Could it be someone here to play and possibly divulge any ugly truths they might know about Henhaven?

Only, as I open my eyes, no one sits in front of me. I scent the air but detect nothing. A beta. More than likely, someone who works here. Glancing down at the table, I note the glass of port waiting for me. Though I didn’t order it, I am most grateful to have it.