Page 38 of The Moonstone Marquess
Trust.
This was the next campaign for him to wage, earning her trust. But how did one do this in the course of a week? This was something gained over time, over a course of years. He would never accomplish it if he reverted to his former self.
Phoebe would be watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. One slip and all would be lost.
She wasn’t trying to be mean about it, but she was afraid of her feelings now that she understood how desperately she could fall in love with him. This was what a good girl like her did—loved faithfully and wholeheartedly, and then had her heart crushed when the man she loved disappointed her.
For this reason, he understood it was easier for her to push him away than have faith in him and take the potentially heartbreaking leap to marriage.
After a few minutes, there came a soft knock at his door. “Enter.”
Melrose walked in. “My lord, your friends are insisting upon your company.”
“They are not my friends.”
The butler’s lips twitched in an almost-smile. “Nonetheless, they are asking for you. I fear they will destroy the parlor if you are not present to keep them in line.”
Cormac set aside the papers he had planned on reviewing. How silly of him to think he could actually get some work done. “Blessed saints, they cannot leave soon enough. All right, I’ll play nursemaid to them. How many more days of this must I endure?”
“It was to be two, but somehow has become three, my lord. Something about a carriage not being ready in time.”
“Bother it. They cannot leave soon enough for me. Have any of them started packing?”
“Alas, no. I also doubt they will leave once they realize Lord Crawford is to stay on. How can they sponge off him while he is here and they are not? Nor can they sponge off you once you send them on their way.” Melrose cleared his throat. “I speak for all your staff when I say we are ready to toss them and their belongings into your carriage and send them packing whenever you command. You have only to say the word.”
“Very thoughtful of you, Melrose.” Cormac cast the butler a wry smile. “But I made a solemn vow to Lord Crawford’s brother, and I mean to honor it. You have my permission to toss out the others as soon as their week is up. They do not get to remain here a minute beyond.”
“Very good, my lord. Do not hesitate to let us know if you wish to kick them out sooner.”
Cormac shook his head and sighed. What choice did he have? A promise was a promise.
In any event, Lord Crawford’s friends would occupy the young lord for the next few days, and this would leave Cormac free to spend more time with his nieces and Phoebe.
The last thing he wanted was Lord Crawford joining him and being around his little ducklings.
Or Phoebe.
He dismissed Melrose and strode down the hall to the parlor, cringing as he heard the countess’s drunken cackle. Indeed, he could make out all four voices, all of them drunk and laughing.
So much for Lord Crawford’s recovery. Well, healing was not going to miraculously happen overnight.
His heart sank as he watched the young lord.
He and his friends were playing cards, normally a fairly tame affair—except they were wagering articles of clothing, and the four of them were half-naked already.
Drunk and half-naked.
Cormac knew where this was going to lead.
But hell, so what if Lord Crawford enjoyed another night of debauchery? Sometimes a man needed to have his fill in order to then settle down with no regrets.
“Join us,” the viscountess said, licking her lips in a suggestive way, as though that might ever entice Cormac. It was to his discredit that he had gone along with the sport those first few nights before meeting Phoebe.
The countess and viscountess were beautiful women, but he found little appealing about them despite their obvious good looks. These women were what he called hard beauties, not the sort over whom he could ever lose his heart. But that had not stopped him from participating in their games. Lord, he could not even remember what had gone on those past nights, which one he’d been with or what they had done.
Perhaps he’d been with both. He could not remember.
Yet he recalled every blessed moment with Phoebe.
