Page 20 of A Duke But No Gentleman
“Northwest of London.It is a four-day journey,” he said, deliberately quickening his stride to add distance between him and Blackbern.“My turn.Is this your first visit to London?”
“Ah, no,” she said, tightening her grip on his arm when she stumbled.
He sent her an apologetic look and slowed his pace.
“I have been to London numerous times with my family.However, this is the first season I have been permitted to enjoy the evening amusements.”
“So young.You make me feel like a doddering old man.”
“You cannot be that old,” she said with a laugh.“I cannot believe you are older than thirty.”
“Bless you, my lady, for not guessing a higher number.No, I am twenty-seven years old and many years have expired since the night of my first town ball.”
She grinned up at him.“You are holding up rather well for a gentleman of your age.”
“Why, thank you, Lady Imogene.I do my best, and there are benefits to considering an older, more experienced gentleman when you are entertaining suitors.”
The lack of a delicate blush coloring her cheeks reminded him that he was flirting with an innocent.She stepped away from him to examine a flower that had caught her fancy.Perhaps Lady Imogene was still more girl than woman, but her stay in London would be more educational than a room filled with tutors.
“We have only recently arrived, and I have no suitors,” she shyly admitted when he moved next to her.
“I must respectfully disagree, my lady.If you confess to having no one dancing attendance in your drawing room, then allow me to be yourfirst,” Norgrave purred, amused that she would not appreciate his double entendre.
“You have set yourself an impossible task, old man,” Blackbern said, as he and Lady Charlotte joined them.He was angry with him, and if the ladies had not been present, Norgrave might have been obliged to dodge the duke’s fist.“If anyone is Lady Imogene’s first, it is I.”
Chapter Six
It was unlike Tristan to hold a grudge, but his temper had not faded in the hours since he and Norgrave had bid farewell to Lady Imogene at Lady Yaxley’s literary saloon.The two gentlemen had gone their separate ways, because he had not trusted that he could hold his tongue after watching his friend flirt with the lady.
Gullible chit,he thought uncharitably.
Lady Imogene had smiled and nodded, believing every word uttered by the marquess.There had been an occasion or two that she recalled he was present, but she had not offered him any encouragement.Who knew what the devil the blackguard was telling her.When Norgrave had picked a flower and tucked it in her hair, she had blushed prettily and laughed as he complimented her beauty.
By the time they had reentered the countess’s drawing room, Tristan had been in a rotten mood.He had not been the only one who was not amused by Norgrave’s antics.Lady Charlotte’s expression had grown withdrawn during their stroll through the gardens, and their conversation suffered for it.There had been pain in her gaze as she watched the other couple, and he could only pity the poor woman.If Norgrave ever married, his ambitions were loftier than an earl’s daughter.
A duke’s daughter would be more to his liking.
To prove he was not jealous of Norgrave, Tristan had agreed to meet his friend at the Green Goose to observe a bare-knuckled match in the courtyard.As he and Norgrave watched the two pugilists fight, the knot in his gut eased as if the punishing blows had been delivered by his own fists.
“How much did you wager on the match?”Norgrave shouted over the noise of the spectators.
“Twenty-five guineas on Ivie,” Tristan replied.
“You are too young to be that miserly.Or perhaps you do not have much faith in your man,” Norgrave teased.“I have wagered eighty guineas on Herring.”
“And you are too careless with your wealth.You risk much for a pugilist you do not know or care to know,” he replied, reminding himself that he was not the marquess’s steward or his father.If the man wanted to beggar himself then it was his choice.He could not resist adding, “And that is why you will lose our wager.”
Norgrave raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised Tristan had mentioned their wager for Lady Imogene’s virtue.“Lose?Did you not see how the lady chose me over you?She thoroughly enjoyed my company, and if we had been alone, I might have slipped her away so I could kiss her in private.”
Thinking of all of the women his friend had bedded in Tristan’s presence, he muttered, “When has an audience stopped you from taking what you wanted?”
“Careful, Blackbern,” the marquess chastised in a mocking tone.“One might think you were jealous.”
Tristan scoffed at the very notion.“Do not be ridiculous.I am not jealous.I was merely disappointed the chit was fooled by your gallantry.I had credited her with more intelligence.However, if she remains in town she will learn that your reputation with the ladies is warranted.”
“As is yours, my friend,” he countered, unperturbed that he had been insulted.“I am not the only one participating in this wager… or the ones that came before it.”He tore his gaze away from the fight and gave Tristan a hard look.“Unless you are having second thoughts.”
Ivie took a hard hit to his square jaw.The pugilist staggered back a step.The spectators roared, some cheering the man to remain standing while others were screaming for him surrender.
