Page 38 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“Come now, we don’t hate each other that much,” Duncan returned with a dry laugh, scanning their surroundings. “Were you… following me? Or is it somehow customary for you to smoke at this exact tree at this exact hour?”

The viscount huffed, “Naturally, I had to follow and make sure you weren’t up to anything.”

“Seriously?” Duncan rolled his eyes. “I gave you my word and something for security, didn’t I? What was the point of all that if you were still going to worry regardless?”

Steepwharf didn’t answer, he just reached into his coat’s inner pocket and pulled out Duncan’s primary pipe, the one that Tresney and Penswaithe had been holding as ‘security’ since their encounter at Gillingham’s.

“Take it,” the other man urged, holding it out to him.

“But that wasn’t the deal.” Duncan furrowed his eyebrows, his spare pipe still in his hand. “The party’s still far from ove-”

“Just take it, Blackmoore,” sighed the viscount. “We, or rather, I changed my mind.”

With only some apprehension, Duncan accepted his pipe back. “Dare I ask why the sudden change of heart?” he queried, inspecting the returned article.

Steepwharf’s lips tilted upwards. “If you want to thank someone, it should be Lady Penelope.”

Duncan froze. “What did you-”

“Relax,” the viscount grunted. “Why would any of us tell her that the only reason your family was allowed to come at all is that we confiscated something dear to you?”

His muscles slackened. “Of course. But then, why should I be thanking her?”

As he asked this, Duncan slipped his preferred pipe into his pocket to ensure its safety, he struck the match and lit up his spare pipe. “By the way, I have more matches, so you don’t have to limit yourself to merely watching me smoke.”

Steepwharf exhaled slightly through his nose before retrieving a cigar and joining Duncan under the tree’s shade.

One puff of smoke later, the viscount answered, “She had nothing but high praise for you.”

Duncan scoffed, leaning against the trunk, “Are you sure this is Lady Penelope we’re talking about?”

“I’m serious,” Steepwharf answered. “With a reputation like yours, one of the quickest ways to form a connection to someone else who’s met you is by bonding over how much of a wretch you are.”

“So honored to be of service,” Duncan sarcastically replied, this remark barely surprised him as he had heard similar sentiments from others before.

“But when I tried to do the same with her, she leaped to your defense at practically any chance she got.” Steepwharf smiled to himself. “In hindsight, I’m not entirely sure if she even realized what she was doing. I had initially assumed that it was because you had tricked her into loving you but-”

“But…?” Duncan prompted him, barely able to contain his curiosity.

“I’ve seen your effect on the women you leave behind, Blackmoore,” shuddered the other gentleman, “but based on her demeanor and genuine fondness for you, I believe you’ve spared Lady Penelope. So, I started to wonder if perhaps—by some miracle—you really have changed.”

His quandary was so potent it prompted Duncan to question himself as well. First Harlington claimed that he was behaving differently, now even Steepwharf was expressing the same thought.

Is it really possible that I have changed so drastically in so short a time?

Duncan hesitantly began, “It’s not that I’ve changed as much as you think, Steepwharf.” He blew out a drag of smoke. “The truth is that while I have certainly been a scoundrel and a fiend towards certain women. Many stories of my exploits have been greatly exaggera-”

“Here we go again!” the viscount exclaimed in irritation. “Why do you have to do this, Blackmoore? Just when things between us were starting to go-”

“Why doyouhave to do this, Steepwharf?” Duncan rebutted, “Why do you have to assume the worst about me every time? You know me better than that, we were friends, damn you!”

“It’s precisely because I know you so well that I can hardly believe you,” the other gentleman spat out, backing away from him. “You’re a brilliant liar, Blackmoore, always have been. And I didn’t mind when it was the small things, but when it came to Henrietta-”

“I didn’t lie about Henrietta!” Duncan placed his free hand on his chest. “I swear it! Her family took advantage of my terrible reputation to cover up who the real culprit was. But I swear I would never do that to your fiancée—or to you. Deep down, I think a part of you still knows that.”

Steepwharf’s expression wavered, but only for a moment. “Then why would Henrietta herself say it was you?”

“Because being ensnared by a cunning and ruthless rake is a much more palatable story than having to publicly admit that she was unfaithful to you,” Duncan pointed out, “And maybe- maybe that’s why you still choose to believe her over me.” His shoulders slumped.

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