Page 46 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“Quite the night, no?” the older gentleman asked. “My legs feel as though they shall give out after a dinner likethat.”

Duncan let out a chuckle. “Then we shall have to roll—as opposed to walk—ourselves home tonight.”

With a heartfelt laugh, his listener slapped a hand on his shoulder and informed him, “I hope you don’t mind me stealing that to use in the future.”

“Please go ahead,” Duncan assured him, taking a swig out of his glass. “In truth, I stole it from my father.”

Another gentleman approached them to express similar sentiments about how filling the dinner was.

After all, as far as Duncan was concerned, dinner party conversations often rotated between three main topics: the party itself, the current biggest scandal in theton, and whoever theton’sfavorite darling presently was.

The door to the drawing room remained somewhat ajar, so he discreetly angled his head in the hopes he could catch a glimpse of how Mother and Lady Penelope were doing along with the rest of the women, but to no avail.

Mother will make sure that they’re both all right,he reminded himself.

As he scanned the room for someone—or something—to distract him from his worry, he spotted Lords Direpeak and Newshore on the other side of the room.

Before tonight, Duncan had only spoken to either of them a few times at the races after Fairhaven had introduced them.

But even after those few exchanges, it was immediately clear that they were both capable gentlemen who came from well-established families with plenty of assets.

As a result, Duncan compiled everything he knew about them thus far, gleaned as much additional information about them as he could from Fairhaven, and included them on the list he created for Lady Pen.

But he hadn’t had the chance to properly speak with them yet tonight, what with the way they had completely devoted their attention to Lady Penelope. So, Duncan made his way through the crowd towards them.

To his annoyance, however, the pair didn’t appear to notice that he was trying to reach them, and they slipped out through one of the banquet hall’s other doors, cigars and glasses in hand.

By the time Duncan joined them in the hallway, the pair had their backs turned to him as they admired a magnificent handwoven tapestry at the end of the hallway.

It depicted the War of the Roses that had clearly been passed down through the generations of Lord Inglesfield’s family.

Just as Duncan opened his mouth to call out to them, he heard Direpeak say something that was mostly inaudible from this far, but Duncan could have sworn it included Lady Penelope’s name.

Wanting to ensure he hadn’t misheard, Duncan decided to delay making his presence known. He sidled along the wall until he was covered by a set of large wooden cupboards containing various other tokens and trophies passed down through Inglesfield’s family.

“Are you certain you’re fine with me being the comforter this time?” asked Newshore, “Because I thought you did quite well with...” he lowered his voice, “our last endeavor.”

“Toowell, I’m afraid,” Direpeak lamented, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “She’sstillwriting to me, you know.”

The marquess inhaled sharply through his teeth, “Dear, oh dear. Didn't I warn you that you were beingtoonice?”

The earl only offered a grunt in response.

Duncan clenched his jaw. But as someone who was used to people passing judgment on him far too quickly, he listened to their discussion further to ensure that he hadn’t misunderstood.

“So, then it’s settled.” Newshore stifled a yawn. “Once you’re done with Lady Penelope, I shall comfort her-”

“Excuse me, Newshore.” Duncan tapped his shoulder, causing the marquess to turn around.

“That’s better, thank you.” Duncan smiled, placing his glass of brandy down on the rug to free up his right hand, which he then swiftly landed on the wretch’s face.

“What the hell, Blackmoore?!” Direpeak thundered, cigar still hanging from his mouth as he grabbed the front of Duncan’s shirt.

“How dareyoubecome enraged after spewing your degeneracy!” Duncan snapped, raising his knee to the earl’s stomach, causing him to double over and sink to his knees on the floor.

“Don’t act like you’re any better than us, Blackmoore!” Newshore barked. “If anything, you’re more depraved than we are!"

Duncan let out a scoff as he closed the distance between himself and the marquess. “You know, treacherous worms like yourselves deserve worse...”

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