Page 70 of The Duke of Seduction
After some time, he began to grow concerned. Then people—a small group—filtered from the church and climbed into their coaches and drove away. Alarm gripped his chest.
Beck climbed from his horse and tied him to a post before crossing the street. A gentleman leaving the church looked toward him. “Northam?”
Pulling his attention from the doorway, Beck turned to the man. It was Lord Haywood. Knowing what Beck knew now, he had to fight the urge to hit the man in the face and knock him to the ground. And then kick him for good measure.
“If you came for the wedding, don’t bother.” Haywood’s tone was heavy with scorn.
“No, just passing by,” Beck said, masking his dislike for the man in the interest of obtaining information. “Whose wedding?”
“My cousin, Sainsbury. His bride called it off, the ridiculous chit.” Haywood’s lip curled. “A gel shouldn’t be allowed to do that.”
What had happened to change Miss Lennox’s mind? The anticipation Beck had felt a few moments earlier dissolved in a cloud of unease. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a commitment,” Haywood said. “And commitments should be honored.” He had the gall to prattle on about making a commitment and seeing it through after leading the Duchess of Kendal on the way he did?
Beck had to hold his hands at his sides lest he hit the man. “I have to imagine she had good reason.” Beck’s feeling of discomfort increased, and it had nothing to do with Haywood’s lack of self-awareness.
Haywood snorted. “She’s convinced herself she has. Silly chit will regret this, however.” He looked back toward the church. “Ah, here’s my cousin, then.” He turned, and Beck took the opportunity to leave.
Climbing back on his horse, he rode home, his mind churning with what could possibly have happened to cause Miss Lennox to cry off. He handed off his mount to a groom and walked up the steps as a footman opened the door.
Gage stood inside the reception hall. “The Earl of Ware is in the sitting room.” He held his hand out for Beck to deliver him his hat and gloves.
“What the devil is Felix doing here this early?” And he’d waited for Beck to come home?
“He’s rather insistent upon seeing you.”
The disquiet simmering within Beck increased yet again. He turned and went into the sitting room to find Felix standing in front of the window. “I was about to come out into the hall.”
“What’s so bloody important that you’re here at this hour?”
“What’s so bloody important that you weren’t?”
“I went out.” Why not just tell him? He already knew Beck’s secret. “I went to see Miss Lennox leave the church after getting married. Only she didn’t get married. She cried off, apparently.”
Felix’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I ran into the groom’s cousin—Haywood—and he didn’t offer a reason.” Beck had to wonder if she’d never really wanted to marry in the first place. He couldn’t help but think of Lavinia’s initial outrage at his interference in her and the other ladies’ lives. He should have left them alone. The darkness he’d managed to banish earlier slithered back over him.
Felix frowned, his expression grim. “You don’t look happy.”
“She became engaged to Sainsbury because of me.”
Felix’s eyes narrowed. “That’s absurd. Did you throw them into a compromising position that required them to wed?”
“When you put it like that, it does sound absurd.” He was letting the darkness take over, and he—usually—knew better. However, he was in a rather deep dither after the way he’d mucked things up with Lavinia last night. “Still, I played a part. If not for my poetry, she might not have attracted Sainsbury, and whatever happened to cause her to cry off may not have happened.”
“Instead of concerning yourself with something you may or may not have affected, let us turn our attention to something that is entirely due to your idiocy.”
Beck inwardly flinched beneath the weight of his friend’s ire. “What did I do?”
“What didn’t you do is probably the better question. Sir Martin is going to propose to Lady Lavinia today—her father has already agreed to the betrothal.”
Oh hell.Beck’s knees wavered. “How do you know that?”
“Late last night at the club, Sir Martin announced his good fortune.”
Now Beck sat, his frame sinking into a chair.
