Page 61 of The Wrong Duke

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The carriage ride to David’s house was an experience that Evan wouldn’t wish upon his most mortal of enemies, for even they didn’t deserve such sorrow and rage and disbelief and heartache and doubt and self-pity and consignation to the very likely fact that their life was over. It was cavalcade of the harshest emotions, bearing down on Evan’s shoulders, playing havoc with his mind and body and soul in a way that he didn’t know was possible.

Earlier, he had wondered why he’d been so scared to let down his barriers and open himself to the possibility of falling in love. Now, with how he was feeling, he knew the answer. Pain was why. Indescribable pain for which there was no panacea.

He didn’t believe for a moment what Lord Wexley had told him as if it was the truth — that Lord Malnor and Miss Baker had been found together ‘canoodling’ in his library. Laughable. Impossible. Clearly a set-up with no need to say who was behind the machinations. But that was also irrelevant. What came next was what had Evan besieged in a state of agony from which he could not escape.

Apparently, to avoid a scandal and the diminishing of Lord Lindstone’s family’s name, Lord Malnor had agreed to marry Miss Baker. It was as good a done, Lord Wexley had said, while adding that Lord Lindstone was a generous man for accepting such terms because if it was his kin who had been found committing such a reprehensible act as that... ‘There’s no telling what I might have done.’ And he seemed to mean it.

Evan was furious at Lord Lindstone for tricking Miss Baker and David like that. He was furious at David for allowing himself to be caught in such a compromising situation — and for going along with it! He was annoyed at Miss Baker for not being more careful. But mostly, Evan allowed for his wrath to settle on his own shoulders. This was his fault. He had known that Lord Lindstone would stop at nothing to get his way. He had known that after last night, the repugnant lord would be forced to take matters into his own hands. And he had known that there were no depths Miss Baker’s father would not sink to.

If Evan hadn’t fallen asleep the way he had, he might have stopped it. If Evan had gone straight to David earlier and told him of his feelings, he might have changed things. If Evan had... No, there was no sense in wading through ‘ifs’ and ‘buts.’ The simple fact was that Evan had failed Miss Baker, and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t fathom a way he might save her.

His only hope was David, that David might agree to cancel the wedding and set the record straight. Although he knew his best friend well enough to know that was a wish he wouldn’t bet on and likely there would be nothing he could do or say to change his mind.

Needless to say, when Evan finally arrived at David’s manor, he was in a worse place mentally than when he had started the trip. He fell from the carriage and stumbled up the drive. He didn’t bother knocking but threw the doors to the foyer open and stormed inside.

“David!” Evan cried out as he strode across the foyer. “David! Where are you?!”

“Your Grace!” Mr. Rogers, one of David’s chief servants, gasped at the sight of him. “What are you —”

“Where is he?” Evan demanded without breaking stride.

“He’s in no state to —”

“David!” Evan called out again as he made for the stairs. “We need to speak!”

“In here!” David’s voice echoed out. “The drawing room! And tell Mr. Rogers I need more brandy!”

“Your Grace!” Mr. Rogers hurried behind him. “I really must insist —”

“You heard the man,” Evan said without looking back. “And I suggest you bring a bottle.”

He found David in the drawing room, and one look at his best friend and Evan almost stuck his head out the door and told Mr. Rogers that maybe some coffee was a better option. By the looks of things, David had drunk enough brandy to last him a lifetime.

He cut a pitiful figure. Slumped over in his chair by the hearth, glass in one hand, empty bottle in the other, if Evan hadn’t seen him just last night, he might have guessed David to have been there all week. The way his body sagged in the chair. How disheveled his hair and clothes were, how limp his limbs, how sunken his face and eyes. It was a look that Evan recognized well, for it was one that David embodied every time that he had his heart broken and needed consoling.

For a brief moment, Evan lost the rage that was swelling inside of him. Pity threatened to consume him, and he very nearly fell to his knees by his best friend’s chair so he might tell him that everything was going to be all right, and no woman was worth succumbing to such a state. Only... this time, it wasn’t true. There was one woman who was worth it, but why she had this effect on David, he wasn’t sure.

“Am I interrupting something?” Evan said coldly.

David glanced over his shoulder and chuckled bitterly. “No actually, you’re right on time? Drink?” He held up the empty bottle and frowned. “Did you see Mr. Rogers on your way in? Be a good friend will you and tell him to bring me another?”

“I think you’ve had enough.” Evan walked into the room but didn’t approach.

“Ha! This... this isn’t even close to what I’ll require. The day is young, Evan, and if I have my way, I’ll be out cold before the inevitable dark of the evening descends on this cruel world and consumes us all.”

“I thought you might have been in a good mood?”

“What?” David pushed himself up the best he could. “Why on earth would I —”

“I hear you’re to be married.” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his friend, dismissive and sharp, no sense of congratulatory sentiment whatsoever.

“Oh...” David’s lip curled. “So, you heard, did you?”

“How could you be so foolish?” Evan sneered, unable to control himself. His friend was suffering, but his feelings about what had happened smothered any sympathies.

“Me?!”

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