Page 25 of Sincerely, the Duke
“What happened out there?” Wyatt asked. “I could tell you were distracted by something.”
No, he wasn’t. True, he had a lot on his mind, but Rick knew it was a kind of fluke, a vagrant sparkle of sun on the tin that made him miss the shot. He was never impatient and never allowed anything or anyone to disturb him when he was shooting.
Rick stared at the two men who had been his friends since their days at school. Wyatt, the Duke of Wyatthaven,and Hurst, the Duke of Hurstbourne. Wyatt had married last spring, and he and Fredericka seemed happy as turtledoves. Having a wife he adored had changed Wyatt’s lifestyle. He didn’t compete with their sporting team, the Brass Deck Club, or spend as much time with Rick and Hurst at the clubs or hunting ventures, but their friendships were as solid as ever.
Hurst, with his uncommonly light-blond hair and green eyes, had the charming good looks and easygoing attitude women couldn’t seem to resist and most men respected. He had been the thinker of the trio in the wild days of their youth. His clear, level head had saved them from making many mistakes, and at times kept them from participating in outright foolish endeavors that would have surely gotten them killed.
“Where have you been all day?” Wyatt asked as he handed over Rick’s coat and gloves. “You didn’t show up for my fencing match, or to see Hurst’s new racehorse.”
Rick blew out a short laugh as his booted feet crunched on the dry rocky ground. He wasn’t sure he was going to answer that question right now. They wouldn’t believe him anyway. Hell, he still couldn’t believe it himself… until thoughts of how Miss Fine made him feel filtered through his mind.
He was still mulling over whether he should wait until they made it back into Town and have them over to his house to quietly tell them about her after a brandy. Or was it best to give them the news at White’s? Oh, hell. He might as well tell them here and now and get on with it.
When he reached his horse, he took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings. A brassy sun was sinking toward the horizon and a medley of puffy, disjointed clouds were gathering overhead. The patchwork of grasses in the flat field were bearing fresh new growth and the firstof the wildflowers and weeds had started unfurling their blooms. Sounds of men talking, and horses and carriages riding away echoed in the distance. Everything around him looked peaceful. Rick felt at peace too. In his gut, he felt that marrying Miss Fine was the right thing to do.
He took in a gulp of the late afternoon air and stated without preamble, “I’m getting married.”
“Hell no, you aren’t.” Wyatt cursed and helped Hurst secure the pistol case onto the back of the saddle. “So, what’s wrong?”
“It’s true.” Rick’s tone was even, but as he spoke an unexpected flicker of anticipation tightened low in his stomach. Yes, she was the one he wanted. He couldn’t say he was interested in marriage and all the trappings that went with it, but he was interested in her. Of all the proper young ladies he’d met over the years, and all the mistresses he’d enjoyed, she was the first one who had captivated him enough that he wanted to know more abouther. And it had been that way since he heard her voice down the corridor.
Hurst whistled low under his breath and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “So, miracles do happen. Hmm. I had always doubted their existence.”
Rick arched a brow and looked at Hurst. “You once studied to be a clergyman. How could you not believe in them? I thought all clergy believed in miracles.”
“What are you two talking about? Never mind about that,” Wyatt said testily. “Who did you compromise?”
“No one,” Rick defended with ire in his voice. “You know better than to suspect me of ruining a young lady’s reputation.”
“Apparently not,” Hurst injected with a mumbled curse.
Wyatt didn’t pay attention to either of them but continued with, “Who is she? Where were you? And who found you with her? If we put our heads together, maybe there’s something that can be done to settle this another way and leave her reputation intact. And keep you away from the altar.”
“Damnation, Wyatt, I haven’t compromised anyone and I’m not being forced to marry. It just so happens I like her and it was my idea.”
“It must be the fever.” Hurst gave a shake of his head and atsking sound in his throat.
Wyatt took his hat off, brushed a hand through his hair, and then settled it back on his head. “You’re right, and it’s come back worse than the other two times he had it. If he’s thinking about marriage, I’m worried.”
Hurst nodded. “Nothing else would explain why he missed your fencing match, my new horse, his easy shot, and be talking nonsense too. Let’s get him home and a tonic in him before it gets worse.”
“I’m not sick,” Rick insisted, as several whoops and laughing came from the group of young bucks who weren’t far away and obviously too joyous to start heading back to Town. “The fevers have precipitated my need to marry and have an heir, and you both know it’s best I get on with it and take a wife.”
“Who the hell is she?” Wyatt asked, his frown and voice deepening. “You’ve never looked twice at a lady that we know of.”
“It is a long story and best told over a strong drink.”
“Stonerick,” Mr. Malcolm called in a cheerful tone while the others continued to whoop and laugh behind him. “Another word with you, if I may?”
Rick’s jaw clenched and he bristled at the young man’sfamiliar tone. They weren’t friends. Nor was it likely they ever would be. He looked in Malcolm’s direction but didn’t respond to his question. The blade won fair and Rick had no desire to rehash the event with another afternoon of the man’s company. Nor did he want to listen to any more of his prattle. As far as Rick was concerned, they were finished. What little patience he had was fading fast. He had more important things to do.
But obviously Malcolm didn’t. He refused to let his question rest. “My friends and I decided that all of us should meet here tomorrow at the same time for another match. But it would be just you and me competing. No others. You and your companions deserve a chance to win back your blunt.”
For his answer, Rick made a short, gruff sound deep in his throat that was almost a laugh before turning back to Wyatt and Hurst.
But the young man called to him again. “To show you I’m not a poor winner, I want to buy you a drink. We’re going over to Little Sorrell Tavern. Come with us. I’ll introduce you to Mademoiselle Rivoire. She’s favored among all the wenches and has never disappointed me. I’ll make sure she takes good care of you, and I’ll find someone else to take care of your friends. I’ll see they leave happy too.”
More whoops, hoots, and hollers erupted from Malcolm’s cohorts.
