Page 15 of The Odyssean Duke

“Besides,” Stephan continued. “I imagine the ton would soon learn of a legal dispute between my grandmother and me. Can you imagine how vicious the gossip would be?”

“Terrible,” Murrayton admitted.

“Doubtlessly, I would appear the villain,” Stephan added, gazing mournfully at his glass. “My grandmother would not hesitate to tell everyone that I was the cause of her woes. I would appear monstrous to them, a cruel man distressing a grieving mother.”

“I wish I could tell you otherwise,” Murrayton said. “But that is all probably true. I fear that you have few other options, though.”

“Except to have this heir,” Stephan said. “Even if I decide that I do wish to challenge my grandmother’s stipulation, it might be beneficial for me to try for an heir. If my challenge failed, I might still have a son.”

“I do not imagine having a legitimate heir will be easy,” Murrayton said. “You are not even courting anyone. And you know it is—well—it is not alwayseasyto conceive an heir quickly.”

“You managed it,” Stephan noted. “And within the first year of your marriage.”

“A girl,” Murrayton said. “And my circumstances were quite different from yours. Amelia and I were a love-match.”

Stephan grimaced. He did not begrudge Murrayton his happiness, of course, but sometimes Stephan was forced to bury the ugly surge of envy he felt when his friend spoke of his wife. Murrayton was the fourth-born son of an earl, expected to inherit only a pittance. He had fallen madly in love with Lady Amelia, and she with him. Her parents had not agreed to the match, and Murrayton had joined the navy to prove himself and to survive.

Then, tragedy struck. Murrayton’s brothers had all died in quick succession, and he had returned to London as the Earl of Murrayton, an appropriate match for the lovely Lady Amelia.

“How is your wife?” Stephan asked.

He did not particularly care to look after the lady’s health, but Stephan cared about his friend. It seemed appropriate to ask after the man’s wife.

“She is well,” Murrayton said. “She has already planned the first several weeks of the Season for us, if you can believe it.”

Stephan nodded, at a loss for what else to say. He had never met Murrayton’s wife. “Having someone to handle the invitations on your behalf would be pleasant.”

“You are trying to distract me,” Murrayton said. “How are you going to find this woman?”

Stephan took a swallow of brandy. The image of Evelina, the Dowager Countess of Thornwall, flashed like lightning in his mind. Although his offer of marriage had been made hastily, he could not deny that the prospect of an amorous encounter—severalamorous encounters—with the beautiful countess was far from arduous. They would share a few enjoyable months together and amicably part ways.

“I have already begun searching for her,” Stephan said.

“And do you have prospects?” Murrayton asked. “I would imagine that a duke has no shortage of potential brides.”

“I suppose not,” Stephan said.

If Evelina—no, ifLady Thornwall—did not wish to marry him, what would be the next step? Stephan balked at the thought of attending balls and soirees to meet women. Aside from the chance encounter with the countess at the tavern, he had barely spoken to a woman in the past decade. The thought of flinging himself after all those ladies made his stomach churn.

I imagine this is how the countess felt.

A swell of compassion bloomed in his chest. The poor woman might have been unable to continue with her plan, but Stephan did not know if he would have the same resolve to do something so humiliating.

“What do you know about the Dowager Countess of Thornwall?” Stephan asked.

Murrayton furrowed his brow, an expression which Stephan knew well; his friend was thinking, trying to recall if he knew who Lady Thornwall was. “Red hair?” Murrayton asked at last.

“I would have called it auburn.”

“You are charitable,” Murrayton said, smiling wryly. “I do know some things about her. Let me think. She is…Amelia has called her an unconventional woman.”

Stephan nearly laughed. There was certainly no denying that.

“She has a club.”

Stephan raised a brow. “A club?”

“For ladies,” Murrayton clarified. “My understanding is that it is like a gathering of bluestockings. Their topics of conversation are said to be unusual. For ladies, I mean.”