Page 66 of A Duchess Bound
“Scotland would suit you.”
Pontoun nodded. “I think so.”
They drank brandy in silence for several minutes. Gerard thought of Dorothy and how she had held the glass in her delicate hand, swirling it absentmindedly as she spoke to him. There had been something delicate and feminine in the gesture, which he found more endearing than he should.
There was much about her that was more endearing than it should be. Maybe he had developed a particular interest in older women. That would explain why he thought of this lover more than he often did. A small part of him even dared to imagine that she might be delighted by his joining Leedway in his efforts to build the seminary.
“You are well-suited to your position,” Pontoun said. “In case you had any doubts.”
“I did not.”
His friend smiled, amused. “There is little that I would not give to have such confidence!”
Gerard chuckled. “Do not sell yourself short, my friend. You will be an excellent Duke of St. Claire.”
“I will be better once I have found my duchess.”
Gerard inwardly winced. “You will,” he said, fighting to sound sincere. “You are a good man, and I have a hard time believing that you do not have some perfect match somewhere in the world.”
Pontoun heaved a great sigh and raised his glass of brandy in a mock toast. “To finding our perfect matches.”
Gerard tactfully did not insist that he hadno perfect match and never would have. Instead, he raised his glass and let it clink against Pontoun’s own. He took a hearty swallow and thought of Dorothy again.
She was lovely, beautiful, and kind in equal measure, and his chest ached just thinking of her. What was she doing at that moment? Was she looking after Lady Bridget and directing her toward only the best suitors?
“It must be difficult for women,” Gerard said after a moment. “Having to ward off the advances of all the men who are unsuitable.”
“I had never given it much thought,” Pontoun said, casting him a curious look. “Why have you noticed it?”
“I have been watching Lady Bridget. She is forever surrounded by suitors, and her elder sister is quite passionate about ensuring that only the best men court her, or so I have heard.”
“I wonder if Lady Bridget appreciates her sister’s managing things,” Pontoun mused.
“Why would she not?”
His friend shrugged. “I would not have wanted a sibling to meddle in my affairs.”
Gerard shifted uncomfortably. “Lady Dorothy is doing something for the benefit of her sister. How could anyone be vexed by that?”
“You would understand if you had siblings,” Pontoun said dryly. “They are not always helpful.”
“I should welcome any interference from a sibling, for that would prove how much I was loved.”
Gerard deliberately did not look at his friend, who he sensed was suddenly watching him very closely. Pontoun must have heard some thread of melancholy in Gerard’s voice.
“There is considerable temptation to take one’s family for granted,” Pontoun said delicately. “Especially if you are very close. I have heard it said that we are the harshest to those we love, and I suppose that was true of my brother and me.”
“We should discuss something else,” Gerard said.
“Of course.”
Gerard hated how Pontoun’s voice softened, how he seemed to understand that Gerard’s thoughts were perilously close to his own miserable and empty youth.
Maybe there was something in what Pontoun was saying, about becoming vexed with those you loved the most. Gerard sipped his brandy thoughtfully and thought about Dorothy gently tucking a wayward curl behind her sister’s ear.
CHAPTER 23
“You seem as though you are hiding a secret,” Dorothy said.
