Page 12 of Wedded to the Sinful Duke

She frowned, obviously caught off guard by his own question. Then, Hector hastily intervened. “Do not hold it against my friend, madam. He is not himself this evening.”

Jonathan glanced at Hector, who gave him a puzzling look. Jonathan knew that Hector must have noticed his absentmindedness, so Jonathan endeavored to focus on the company. “Yes, my friend is right. I am a bit distracted this evening. That is all.”

The woman liked the response. She leaned closer to him. “Does that mean that there is someone else on your mind?”

He forced a smile. “No. I am merely captivated by your beauty, my dear,” he replied smoothly though the words felt completely empty, devoid of any meaning. He was usually much more charming than that. He tried to focus harder.

“I must say, your friend was right,” she said seductively. “We did need handsome men at our table, especially one as handsome as yourself.”

He smiled at the compliment. Usually, he would see that as a promising sign that he would not be going home alone. And she was a ravishing beauty. He had to admit that. However, her lips didn’t beckon to him. His manhood didn’t roar with desire, lusting after her. It lusted after the siren of the pond, the memory still as fresh in his mind, creating ripples of yearning in his loins.

Hector, ever the observant friend, caught Jonathan’s faraway look and intervened with a boisterous story, drawing the ladies’ attention away.

“Allow me, ladies, to tell you a story of the time when my friend here and I found ourselves in a duel at dawn over a matter of mistaken identity!” he began, his voice rich with exaggerated drama. The ladies leaned in, captivated by the sudden shift in conversation.

Jonathan was grateful, taking a sip of his drink and trying to shake off the persistent thoughts of the mysterious woman. He watched Hector weave the tale with effortless charm, his friend’s aloof demeanor momentarily replaced by an engaging storyteller’s warmth. The ladies laughed and gasped at all the right moments, completely absorbed by Hector’s narrative.

Hector glanced at Jonathan, noting his friend’s continued distraction. With a subtle nod, he wrapped up his story, leaving the ladies giggling and curious for more. “But enough about our past escapades,” Hector said smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. “To new adventures and the company of lovely ladies.”

The group echoed his toast, and the conversation flowed once more. Jonathan forced himself to engage, smiling and exchanging pleasantries, yet his mind kept wandering away from the gathering, back to the siren by the pond.

At one point in the evening, Jonathan realized that he had had enough. That had never happened. He downed his drink, slamming the glass against the dirty, wet table before them. He leaned over to Hector, his voice low and purposeful. “I think I shall call it a night.”

Hector’s eyebrow rose in silent shock. His friend had never said that before. He was always the one who wanted to stay in the tavern until the break of dawn, unless there was a lady accompanying him home, which Hector probably suspected was the case now.

“Ladies,” Hector announced, “my friend here says we’ve had enough to drink.”

“Are you going home?” one of the two ladies surrounding him asked.

“Yes,” Hector grinned. “Are you?”

“Yes,” the same lady replied, batting her eyelashes. “We could accompany you if you’d like.”

“I would like that very much,” Hector nodded, turning to Jonathan. “I just have to see about my friend.”

“I can see about him,” the olive-skinned beauty replied. “He seems like he could use some company.”

Jonathan hesitated, the offer tempting but somehow… hollow. He could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “No, thank you. I am quite tired. I think I will just head on home.”

Hector’s eyes widened slightly, unable to hide his surprise. Jonathan, the ever-charming rake, turning down such an offer was unheard of. “Are you certain, Jonathan?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Yes, quite, old boy,” Jonathan nodded. “But you go ahead and enjoy yourself. Good night, ladies.” He turned to leave without waiting for a response.

With a smooth, practiced smile, Hector turned to the two ladies. “Ladies, it has been a delightful evening, but I must also take my leave. I trust you will find your way home safely?”

The ladies, momentarily disappointed, nodded gracefully. “Of course,” one of them said.

Hector offered a polite bow then quickly caught up to Jonathan, who was already stepping out of the tavern and into the cool night air. “Jonathan, wait,” he called out, his voice cutting through the din of the street.

Jonathan turned, surprised to see Hector following him. “Hector, what are you doing? I thought you were staying with the ladies.”

Hector shook his head, his expression serious. “No, my friend. I can see you are not yourself tonight. Let’s head home together.”

Jonathan gave a grateful nod, appreciating Hector’s perceptiveness and loyalty. The two friends walked in silence to the carriage waiting nearby, its lanterns casting a warm glow in the night.

As they settled into the plush seats of the carriage, the driver set off, the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves a steady rhythm against the cobblestones. Hector studied Jonathan for a moment before speaking. “Now, are you going to tell me what the devil is going on with you?”

“Just tired, I suppose,” Jonathan sighed, attempting a dismissive wave of his hand, but it didn’t work. They had been friends for far too long for Hector to believe such a flimsy excuse.

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