Page 105 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Longley narrowed his eyes. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“I beg to differ.”
At that moment, Mr. Henry White, a companion of their occasional playing partner Mr. Falvey, dropped onto the chair beside Vaughan’s.
“I say, Ashford,” he drawled, clearly tippled. “My condolences.”
Vaughan’s grip on the cards faltered and he dropped one. Longley bent to retrieve it from the floor.
“Whatever for?” Vaughan asked.
White looked surprised by the question. “For being saddled with the plainer Carlisle chit.”
Vaughan’s chest tightened, and his gaze snapped to White in an instant. His eyes narrowed, and the words echoed through his inebriated mind, bouncing off one another in all their offensive glory.
“Don’t ever speak about my wife like that again,” Vaughan growled.
And then he reeled back his fist and punched White on the nose.
White shouted in surprise, falling off the chair and crashing to the floor. Blood burst from his nose, immediately soaking his shirt, and a server rushed forward and offered him a handkerchief.
Vaughan’s hand throbbed, and a rushing sound filled his ears as he realized that everyone was staring at him. He looked down at his hand, startled by the flecks of blood on his knuckles.
“I hit him,” he said to Longley.
“That you did,” his friend said, grabbing him by the shoulder.
“He deserved it,” Vaughan said, getting to his feet and nudging the sniffling White with his toe. “You will refer to the Duchess of Ashford with the utmost respect.”
White glared up at him. “You’ve lost your mind. Gone soft in the head over a woman, just like your cuckold father.”
Vaughan’s fingers twitched, eager to lay into him again, but Longley pushed him toward the exit. Somewhere behind them, he heard the manager calling after them.
Vaughan didn’t think they would kick him out of the club. He was a duke. More likely they’d remove White. But he wasn’t in the mood for socializing anyway, so he let Longley lead him away.
Once they were outside, Longley took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped Vaughan’s knuckles, then tucked the cloth away again.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. “I don’t think Henry was either.”
“Ass,” Vaughan said.
“He is, rather.” Longley eyed Vaughan with a combination of fascination and something else that Vaughan couldn’t put his finger on. “Now, keep in mind that I don’t agree with him, but I do think you’re being a fool when it comes to Emma. Go and talk to her. Running away isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Talking to her won’t either. It will only hurt her more.”
He didn’t want that.
“Staying away from her is hurtingyou,” Longley replied. “Probably her, too.”
“I’m not hurting,” he protested.
“Yes, you are.” Longley summoned a carriage and helped Vaughan into it. “You’re smitten with your wife, and you miss her.”
“No, I don’t.”
It was a lie. He did miss her.
His heart ached from it.
