Page 43 of A Duke But No Gentleman
Tristan nodded to Norgrave’s hands.“You have removed your gloves, I assume, because the unfortunate gentleman’s blood ruined them.Also, your knuckles are beginning to swell.”
“Impressive,” his friend said, saluting him with his glass.More wine spilled on the table.“What else can you deduce?”
He chuckled.“That isn’t your first glass of inferior wine this evening.”
Norgrave snorted.“That is obvious.”
“So what did the unlucky gentleman do to warrant a thorough thrashing with your fists?”Tristan asked, too used to his friend’s mercurial temperament.In truth, the other man might have done very little to ignite Norgrave’s wrath.
His companion finished his wine before replying.He glanced around the large public room, probably looking for a female or two to soothe his sour mood.“He insulted me.”
“That was incredibly foolish of him.Does he still live?”Tristan asked, taking his time with his wine.
“He was still breathing when I kicked his unconscious arse into the middle of the street,” the marquess confessed in his usual unrepentant manner.“I am not at fault if a coachman drives his horses and wheels over the fellow.”
“Of course.”In Norgrave’s mind, only a foolish man would dare to insult him.The results were on the other man’s head.“So tell me the real reason why you unleashed your temper on this stranger?”
The marquess signaled for another bottle of wine as he considered the question.“You know me too well, Blackbern.”Norgrave scrubbed his face with his bare hand.“You might as well know the truth.It was Imogene.”
Tristan’s grip on the glass tightened.“You saw Imogene?”He swallowed thickly at his friend’s curt nod.
“It shames me to admit it, but I cannot seem to win the lady’s favor.”Norgrave stared at him.“What about you?”
Relief rushed through his arteries and veins at such a speed that he thought his heart might burst.“I am experiencing similar results,” he lied, and then scowled as he contemplated the reasons for his failure.“I believe the lady finds us charming, but she is intelligent enough to deduce that we are not to be trusted.”
“A pity, do you not agree?”His friend laughed, pleased to learn that Tristan had not fared any better with the lady they both coveted.“I prefer a pretty, silly wench over one who has filled her head with intellectual pursuits.”
The barkeep placed a bottle of wine between them.
Tristan raised his glass in a toast.“To silly wenches.”
Norgrave filled his glass and raised it.“To willing wenches.”
“Who believe a scoundrel’s lies,” he added, clicking their glasses.
They finished their wine and refilled their glasses again.
“The perfect woman,” Norgrave said, slightly slurring his words.“So Imogene can resist that pretty face of yours.”
It wasn’t a question, but Tristan replied anyway.“There is no shame in declaring the wager a draw.”
The marquess dismissed the suggestion with a grimace.“No lady has defeated me.I will think of something.”
That was precisely what concerned Tristan the most.
“The wine is palatable, but I am craving a little female companionship to soothe my bruised pride.”He tried to brace his chin on the palm of his hand, but it took three attempts before he succeeded.“The doxies in this tavern will give us the pox.”
“What do you suggest?”
“The Acropolis,” the marquess replied, naming a notorious club that catered to all types of carnal appetites.“My membership is in good standing.We could select a half dozen or more of their finest whores, drink and fuck until our cocks lose their steel.What say you, Blackbern?We haven’t done anything so wild in years.”
His unruly cock twitched between his legs at the thought of bedding and losing himself in a willing woman, but Tristan did not want a nameless whore beneath him.
He wanted Imogene.
Fortunately, he was sober enough not to confess his true desires to his friend.Tristan shook his head.“You will have to continue without me.I am heading home.”
He braced his palms on the table to help him stand.
