Page 35 of It's All About the Duke
“It wasn’t my intention, it’s just the way it happened. I had good reason for mentioning my ward to Esmeralda today.”
“So she told me,” Griffin said and then cleared his throat.
Hawk took a drink from his glass but never took his gaze off Rath and asked, “Who is she?”
Griffin leaned forward again. “What I want to know is how did you become her guardian?”
“You didn’t do anything that caused you to be tricked into doing this for someone, did you?”
“Did this come about because you lost a wager?”
“Or won one?” Hawk questioned.
Rath held up his hand to stop the barrage of questions and huffed a tired laugh. Not that he hadn’t been capable of being in that position in the past—he had and more than once—but like the other two rakes sitting in front of him, he’d mended his ways. Somewhat, anyway. Surely not to the extent they had. He might not have a mistress, but he did fill his nights at the gaming tables with a stout drink by his side.
“Nothing of the kind. You both know I might have been guilty of such behavior in my younger days, but now I’m more sensible. I don’t wager horses, houses, businesses, or women.”
“Then what?” Griffin asked.
“It’s a long story.”
Griffin made himself comfortable again while he and Hawk looked at each other and then at Rath. He knew exactly what that meant. They weren’t going anywhere until they heard everything they wanted. Now he was wishingthey were talking to him about their wives finding him at Miss Lola’s rather than his blunder of accepting responsibility of the alluring and intriguing Miss Fast.
“The truth of it is there are many reasons I became her guardian.” He shifted in the chair. It was never easy to explain oneself even to the people who knew you best.
“We’ve time to hear them all.”
Rath untied the bow in his neckcloth and loosened the fabric at his throat, something his father would have strongly objected to. A gentleman stayed completely dressed until he was ready to change or retire for the evening. But Rath had never tried to be the gentleman his father had been or commanded Rath to be. Much to his father’s disappointment. It simply wasn’t in Rath’s nature to always be properly dressed, to always say the polite thing whether or not it was true. Perhaps if his mother had lived past his sixth birthday, he would have been a better gentleman. She was a soft-spoken, gentle lady. A bright spot in his life that dimmed too quickly and went out. If she had been there to soothingly encourage him to do the right thing, instead of his father’s demanding ways, maybe Rath would have been a different man.
After another sip of his drink, Rath considered being completely truthful, but did he really want to rattle off all the possible reasons he’d written that letter to Mr. Olingworth that night?Because my father would have expected me to finally step up, be a gentleman, and do it for the old man. Guilt because the secret admirer letters were my idea. Guilt because after the wager went awry the two of you had the obligations of your sisters to marry off and I didn’t. Feeling that in some way if I could help one young lady I might atone for the ones we embarrassed because of those letters.
And endless more.
No. Whether it was one reason or a host of reasonsdidn’t matter. He would keep them all to himself. There were some things that didn’t need to be shared even with men he’d known for what seemed like most of his life.
“Late one night, after having a few glasses of this”—he held up his brandy—“here in this room, I opened a letter from a man my father admired very much. Mr. Harold Olingworth. He’d written asking me to do it because his illness was progressing to the point he could no longer do so himself. By the time the bottle was empty, I’d picked up a quill and agreed to accept responsibility for her. The next day I had a clearer head and had come to my senses. I came in here to destroy the letter only to find that my new, eager-to-please butler had already posted it and was delighted to tell me it was on the early-morning mail coach already heading on its way out of town.”
Griffin smiled. “When you were a younger man you wouldn’t have made a mistake like that.”
Hawk chuckled low in his throat. “So after all these years, fate finally decided to stop smiling on you at every turn and there was something you botched.”
Rath took a drink. Fate wasn’t something he thought a lot about. And he was no longer sure he’dbotchedthis. Miss Fast was a challenge, and that suited him right now.
“You could have gone to see the old man and explained that you’d made a rash decision and couldn’t possibly be trustworthy for an innocent young lady’s welfare.”
Always the levelheaded one of the three rakes, Rath expected a comment like that from Griffin. None of them were saints when they entered Oxford or Society. Instead of appreciating and revering their titles, the three had chased only what they desired, and that was drinking, wagering, gambling, and ladies of the evening.
“I did go to see the man right away.” Rath leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I had all intentionsof forsaking my honor and going back on my word to take responsibility for her no matter how much the man might plead for me not to. Surely he would understand what a mistake he’d made in asking and me in accepting. I was not suitable to take care of a young lady and I was determined not to be swayed.”
“I hear a silentbutat the end of that sentence.”
“With good reason,” Rath admitted. “Olingworth was so ill it was impossible for me to disavow the commitment I’d accepted. He could hardly draw a breath but kept trying to—thanking me for accepting her guardianship, telling me how strong-minded yet sweet she was, and all I wanted him to do was stop trying to talk and breathe at the same time. I had to leave things as they were.”
“So it was that bad?”
Worse.
Rath settled back in the chair and sipped his brandy again. It wasn’t a scene he wanted to repeat. Ever. Miss Fast had told him she wanted to go see Mr. Olingworth but he wouldn’t allow it. Rath could understand the man not wanting her to see him in that condition. Not wanting anyone to see him.
