Page 4 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

Skillfully, he produced a tarnished pocket watch from his back pocket, focusing on the subtle tick of gears and mechanisms. Through it, the rest of the world faded away; he could properly prepare himself for a long night of socializing. Four, five, six—the seconds clicked alongside his steps, leading him across the front lawn and through the club’s double doors.

The mansion’s interior was just as lively a place, couples and companions enjoying what amenities the club had to offer. Wolfish-faced men lounged among the curling smoke of pipes and cigars within the parlor, a few younger pups curiously leering beneath the door’s frame at rabbit-faced beauties.

They, in turn, might brush their open fans across the air, as if shooing a particularly rowdy group of flies away. But, if a man were so lucky, a slender-gloved hand might extend towards the pack of whelps, who seemed eager to jump over the others to get the prize first.

Gabriel occasionally lingered at the scene, pocket watch clicking ominously, as if issuing one and only one warning. And the warning was received loud and clear, as every man reined himself in and remembered his manners before greeting the woman in question.

“And here I was sure I’d find you already throwing the first punch, Duke.”

Gabriel slipped his watch back within his breast pocket, attention turning to another gleaming wolf mask seemingly appearing from the air at his side. His gaze flickered down the man’s chest, scrutinizing the loosely-fitted necktie.

“And here I thought you’d finally look presentable for once in your life, Christian.”

Even through the mask, his playful irritation was palpable. “Remind me why I tolerate you, again?”

“This club would still be in its infancy without my aid,” Gabriel replied coolly. His hand then extended a hand towards the tie, undoing it in its entirety before making it proper. “Christian, how can you still get this so horrifically wrong? Don’t you have a wife to help you, now?”

Christian chuckled lightly, his chest somewhat puffed out at the mention of his bride. “Jab at me all you want, but I’ll still be hunting the most beautiful prize tonight.”

Gabriel followed his friend’s gaze, catching the silhouette of a willowy woman near the refreshments table. Even with the mask covering a portion of her face, her familiar freckles and reddish-blonde hair were instant identifiers. “Louise willingly came?” Gabriel asked, somewhat surprised.

“She’s already given me a mile’s worth of rules to follow,” Christian explained, sounding somewhat deflated. “If I make her move faster than a brisk jog, she’ll lock me in the garden for the night.”

“Seems a reasonable request for someone in her condition,” Gabriel pointed out.

Christian sighed lightly, his gaze still fixated on his wife, Louise, as she helped herself to a cup of punch. “Yes, well…I didn’t come all this way to exchange witty remarks, Gabriel.” He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “Some of the members started their game a bit earlier than expected; a few deviled rats decided to try and slip between the cracks.”

Ah. It didn’t surprise Gabriel at all that the Ton’s Devils were trying to stir trouble tonight. “Do you need me to take care of it?

“Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t want to pull you away from opening ceremonies.”

A slight scowl crossed Gabriel’s face. Christian seemed a bit too thrilled to force his friend up on stage.

“I’m just saying that, during your speech, keep an eye out for anyone who seems particularly…” Christian trailed off, giving his friend a knowing look, even with masks covering their expressions.

“I’ll remind any uninvited guests what happens when rules are broken,” Gabriel reassured.

With a slight nod and a clap against Gabriel’s back, Christian slipped back into the crowd, quickly moving towards the refreshments table. Gabriel lingered in his spot for a few seconds too long, observing as his friend snuck up behind Louise and brought his arms around her waist.

Though briefly startled, she seemed delighted to see Christian and moved to be as close to his side as possible. Both their hands lingered over the slight bump in her midsection, and Gabriel stood in place, watching them.

He turned his focus back to the thrum of footsteps, and the drone of the grandfather clock located up the grand stairs. It would chime in less than ten minutes, and he still had to find his way to the main dining hall.

Once more, Gabriel started forward, his ears tuned into his own footsteps, and the beat of his own pocket watch. Six hundred, five hundred fifty-nine, five hundred fifty-eight…

CHAPTER3

Thalia was willing to amend her previous statement. Entering her familial home and willingly trapping herself in a room with Giles had been foolish; absolutely so, and she would not deny that.

But infiltrating a gentlemen’s club with no escape plan or clear idea as to what she was searching for? That was a strong contender for one of the worst ideas she’d had to date.

“Not that it’s entirely due to my own machinations,” she mumbled behind her rabbit mask. “I suppose this is what happens when two Sutton minds come together in agreement over something.”

It hadn’t been easy convincing Robin at first. But by the time she'd returned to their humble abode, Thalia had cashed in every favor she could recall. Friends were short in supply, but no upper class woman wanted to be willingly in debt to a fallen socialite such as herself.

She’d managed to acquire a carriage, suitable attire; everything was in place, minus a proper invitation. And forgery was as close to second nature as breathing for her dear brother, much as he didn’t like to admit it. Robin wouldn’t want all her effort to go to waste, and that’s entirely what she was counting on.

Even now, within the walls of the Orion’s mansion, Thalia could feel her brother’s anxiety all the way from Whitechapel. She nervously tugged at the hem of her opera glove, the splint hidden beneath twinging against her wrist.

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