Page 5 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“Vienna was the closest I’ve come in months. They left a boarding house mere hours before I arrived. The landlady remembered William. She said he paid her extra to forget they’d ever been there.” A bitter smile crossed his face. “Clearly, her memory improved with the application of more coin.”

“And you’re certain it was them?” Noah leaned forward, his usual flippancy replaced by genuine concern.

“William left something behind. A pocket watch—the one Father gave him on his eighteenth birthday.” Leo reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a tarnished silver watch.

The Rencourt family crest was barely visible beneath years of neglect. “He was always careless with his possessions.”

Noah didn’t respond immediately, studying his friend’s face. “Ten years is a long time to chase ghosts, Leo.”

“They’re not ghosts.” Leo’s voice was sharp. “William is my responsibility. He always has been.”

“And Felicity?” Noah’s question hung in the air between them.

Leo’s expression darkened. “Felicity will answer for what she’s done. To my family. To William.” He drained his glass in one swallow then set it down with deliberate control. “I won’t return for good to Blackmere until I’ve found them both.”

“And yet, here you are in London.” Noah refilled their glasses. “Diverted by scandalous tales that half the ton is reading beneath their bedsheets. One might think you’re avoiding the inevitable conclusion to your search.”

Leo’s silence spoke volumes. The truth—one he scarcely admitted to himself—was that each failed attempt to find William left him hollower than before. The brother he remembered—impulsive, naive, desperately seeking approval—might no longer exist after a decade under Felicity’s influence.

Noah’s expression sobered. “Perhaps it’s time to let them remain hidden.”

“What I need,” Leo said, steering the conversation away from that particular precipice, “is for you to tell me more about these stories you mentioned in your letters. The ones that seem to have all of London talking.”

Noah leaned back in his chair, studying Leo’s face with uncommon seriousness. “Before we discuss the stories, I’ve been wondering why you are so determined to find William after all this time. It’s been ten years, Leo.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. “He’s my brother.”

“A brother who stole from your family and ran off with the woman you loved.” Noah held up a hand as Leo’s expression darkened. “I’m not defending his actions, but perhaps it’s time to consider that your pursuit has become… something else.”

“Such as?”

“A distraction, perhaps. A convenient reason to avoid settling into your responsibilities here.” Noah refilled their glasses, his movements deliberate. “The ducal estates need attention. Your seat in the Lords sits empty. And you’ve spent the past decade chasing shadows across Europe. For what? You look tired, my friend.”

“I didn’t come to London for a lecture on duty,” Leo growled.

“No, you came because of some scandalous stories.” Noah’s familiar sardonic smile returned. “Which, I might add, would never have caught your attention if you weren’t determined to protect a reputation you claim not to care about.”

Leo stared into his glass as he felt the weight of Noah’s words settle over him. The amber liquid caught the firelight as he swirled it absently. After a long moment, he looked up.

“William is the only family I have left.”

“Not true.” Noah’s voice softened. “You have friends who are as good as brothers. Me, Gerard, Dorian—we’ve been worried about you, you stubborn ass. Chasing after William hasconsumed you, and for what? So you can drag him back to face a society that’s already forgotten the scandal?”

Something flickered in Leo’s chest—a moment of vulnerability he quickly suppressed.

“And what would you have me do instead? Settle into domestic tranquility like Gerard and Dorian? Find myself a dutiful duchess and breed heirs to Blackmere?”

“God forbid.” Noah shuddered theatrically. “Though I must say, the current crop of eligible young ladies might surprise you. The Season has brought some rather spirited debutantes to town.”

“I’ve no interest in spirited debutantes or dutiful wallflowers,” Leo replied, swirling the brandy in his glass. “My only concern is finding William and resolving matters once and for all.”

“So you say.” Noah studied him with unusual perception. “Yet you’re fixated on these stories rather than following your latest lead. One might think you’re finding reasons to remain in London.”

Before Leo could answer, a slurred voice cut through the quiet hum of conversation. “I say, Your Grace, care to try your luck against me at the tables? Unless you’ve gambled away your fortune during your travels.”

The room quieted as heads turned toward their table. Lord Huntley weaved slightly on his feet, his cravat askew and adangerous glint in his bloodshot eyes. Behind him, several other young bucks watched with poorly disguised anticipation—like hounds scenting blood.

“I have better uses for my fortune than to increase it by besting a man who can barely stand upright,” Leo replied, his tone mild despite the flare of anger he felt.

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