Page 2 of A Duchess Disciplined

“My son will be a good man! A proper Duke of Sarsen!”

Benedict arched an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

“Anyway,” Sarsen said, gesturing widely with his glass. “Who needs love? My lady and I did not wed for love. Nor did you and Her Grace.”

“Be that as it may…”

“You are romantic,” Sarsen said. “I know. If your daughter marries my son, you will at least know that she will be treated well. You will know that my son has the means to ensure that she has a comfortable life as the Duchess of Sarsen. That is more than many young misses have.”

Benedict swirled his glass, took a drink, and frowned. “I think I am too inebriated to make these decisions.”

Sarsen roared with laughter. “You cannot argue with my logic, can you? All those lectures you attended in rhetoric—utterly wasted! For shame, Reeds.”

“Knowledge is never wasted.”

“Of course. How can I forget how invaluable your knowledge in common law is?”

“Itisof value,” Benedict replied. “Do you want to always be dependent on solicitors to know the law for you?”

“That is generally why one hires solicitors.”

“Suppose your solicitor is mistaken or errs in some legal matter?”

“Then, I hire anarmyof solicitors,” Sarsen said. “And I believe that you, Reeds, are trying to distract from my brilliant proposal because you have no good reason for disagreeing with it. If my first child is a son, I will wed him to your daughter. If my first child is a daughter, I will wed her to your son. I trust that any Duke of Reeds with you as a father will grow into a wholly admirable young man.”

A warmth came over Benedict, the heady result of alcohol and his friend’s confidence in him. “I might just agree with you.”

“Then, we continue the celebrations!” Sarsen exclaimed. “Not only has your daughter arrived, but we have already found her husband! Or else, we have found your son a wife! One of your children will not have to endure a long wait on the marriage mart.”

“You did not seem to find your own long wait too arduous,” Benedict quipped.

“You are never going to allow me to forget my rakish misdeeds, are you? I tell you that I am a changed man.”

They both knew that was untrue. Despite his declarations of being reformed, Sarsen was still a notorious lover of actresses and singers.

“HowdoesHer Grace manage you?” Benedict asked.

Sarsen waved a flippant hand. “We have an understanding, my lady and me. She does not interfere with my affairs, and I give her the independence she wants in the country.”

“I see.”

“Bah! I have let you lead me astray again,” Sarsen said mournfully. “We were discussing your child’s marriage to mine.”

“I think your jest has grown old by now.”

“It was not a jest. Why should we not do it? You write the contract, and we will both sign it!” Sarsen declared. “My firstborn will marry one of your children. Elias if my wife bears a daughter, Dorothy if the child is a son.”

Benedict finished his glass, which was promptly filled again without him having to ask. He knew that he would regret such indulgences in the morning, but at the moment, it was difficult to care all that much.

“Fetch a solicitor,” Benedict said, waving a hand.

“Why?” Sarsen asked. “You were just discussing how impressive your knowledge of law is. You write it.”

“Neither of us have a pen,” Benedict said.

Sarsen scoffed and stood, nearly falling into the nearby table. “As if I will be deterred by that!”

The man walked unevenly across the club, presumably in search of a pen and paper. Benedict shook his head in bemusement and continued drinking. The idea was absurd—but nottooabsurd. He supposed that there was something appealing about it, about continuing his friendship with Sarsen through their children.

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