Page 3 of The Duke of Ice
Simon shrugged. “It depends on whether I’m enjoying myself. If I’m uncomfortable, I’ll leave with you.”
“I’ll do my best to ensure you’re uncomfortable, then.” A rare smile curved Nick’s lips provoking a shout of laughter from Simon.
“There’s my old friend.”
“Since you’re here, you should stay the night,” Nick said. “Unless you’ve somewhere else to be?”
Simon’s country home was a two-day ride at a swift pace, longer if one wasn’t in a hurry. But Nick doubted Simon would go back there. The house party was in a little over a week, and Simon would use that time to explore Cornwall or perhaps even venture into Wales. He had a hard time staying in one place.
“I don’t, as well you know. I’d be delighted to stay for a day or two. Perhaps we can go searching for the elusive dragon in the caves.”
Nick snorted at his mention of the old legend of Blue Ben. “It’s far more likely we’ll run into a smuggler.”
“Indeed?” Simon’s brows rose.
“Perhaps. Although I’ve done my part in quashing the activity.”
“Of course you have. You’re nothing if not a staunch patriot.” Simon said this with a somber note, silently referencing Nick’s service to King and country as well as the great sacrifice his family had made.
Thankfully, Markley entered with the tea, putting an effective end to that line of conversation. While Nick would never forget, he also chose not to discuss those matters. It was enough that they all lived in his mind.
Rain began to batter the windows as the storm moved over the house. Markley served the tea and departed.
Simon sipped his tea, peering over the rim of the cup at Nick.
Nick braced himself for another unwelcome topic. Could it be worse than cajoling him into attending a house party?
“Since we’re going to the Linfords’ party, should we discuss whether we’re on the Marriage Mart?”
Oh yes, it could be much, much worse.
“No.” The single word dropped into the room like a shard of ice.
Simon, heedless as ever when it came to Nick’s irritation, cocked his head to the side. “No we shouldn’t discuss it, or no we aren’t on the Marriage Mart?”
“I’ve no idea where the hell you are, although I might suggest an asylum.”
Simon grinned as he grabbed a cake from the tray Markley had perched on Nick’s desk. “It probably doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine anyone would consider us marriage material. Not yet anyway.”
Nick detected a note of hope in Simon’s voice. “Do you really wish to marry again?” he asked quietly. It seemed almost sacrilegious to even pose the question.
“I think I do,” Simon said, his tone equally soft. He shook his head. “I don’t know. IthinkI do, but when I consider it—actually think of how that would play out—I think not.” He shoved the rest of the cake into his mouth.
“I don’t even consider it.” How could he without sacrificing the memories of Jacinda and Elias? To look for, let alone accept, someone else would be to lay them to rest forever. He wasn’t sure he could do that.
“No, I don’t imagine you do.”
They drank in silence for a few minutes before Simon said, “Perhaps it’s time we consider it. We’re dukes. We have a responsibility to our titles.”
“I have cousins who can inherit.”
“Do you?”
The question made Nick wince. He had a cousin or two but hadn’t established a connection with them, for fear of what might happen. Just as he feared what might happen to the woman he was selfish enough to wed.
“My apologies, of course you do,” Simon said.
Nick steered the conversation back to Simon since he’d brought up the infernal topic. “That is your goal, then? You’re going to this party with the hope of finding a wife?”
