Page 39 of One Night of Temptation
Both dukes swung their gazes toward Hugh as they sat, Cole opposite Hugh and Eastleigh to Hugh’s right. “We’re honored to have you in our presence,” Eastleigh said. “You elevate the Wicked Duke.”
Cole lifted his mug. “To the hero of St. Giles!”
He spoke loudly so that the entire main parlor raised their tankards and called out, “Hear! Hear!”
Hugh wanted to melt into his chair. He might be a hero—and he’d debate that fact—but he had nothing to celebrate.
Eastleigh set his mug down. “Tell us how you saved the young lady from certain disaster.”
He’d done no such thing. Unless one considered her formerly impending marriage certain disaster. And she absolutely had. So maybe he was a hero—at least to her. Yes, she would agree with that description, and he’d be loath to resist it. He wanted to be her hero.
Except, and this is what bothered him most, had she even accomplished what she’d set out to do? Her abduction didn’t appear to be public knowledge. It would seem she wasn’t ruined. Still, maybe she’d been able to avoid the betrothal. He wished he could find out for sure.
Hugh didn’t want to give them too much information. “I’m no hero. I happened to be in the right place at the right time is all.”
When he thought about what might have happened if he hadn’t seen her… What if Ned hadn’t hit him with the shuttlecock? Hugh wouldn’t have paused, and he might have missed Penelope entirely.
“Well, I say you’re a hero, but then I know all the good works you do,” Langford said before finishing his ale. He set his empty mug on the table and stood. “Excuse me, friends, I’ve a workshop to get back to. I must prepare for my apprentices who will, thanks to Tarleton, arrive first thing tomorrow.”
Hugh had arranged for several children from St. Giles to apprentice with Langford.
“Give Felicity my best,” Cole said with a grin. “No doubt she’s turning your workshop upside down.”
“In the best possible way.” Langford’s eyes twinkled as he turned and left.
“It’s not easy seeing our sisters wed,” Eastleigh said to Cole.
“Those are the truest words I’ve heard in some time.” Cole tapped his tankard to Eastleigh’s, and they drank.
“I had no problem with it,” Hugh said, glad for the change of topic. “I was quite pleased to see them settled, though no more so than my eldest brother.”
“What of you?” Eastleigh said, studying Hugh. “Aren’t you supposed to marry soon?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, I thought the bishop was growing impatient.”
He was, but Hugh had put him off for now. The time would come, however, when the bishop would demand he wed. Or he may determine that Hugh should remain unmarried—such recommendations were not unheard of. That time might even be tomorrow, since the bishop was coming for a visit.
“He will undoubtedly be pleased with your heroism,” Eastleigh said before sipping his ale. “As is the young lady you saved and her family, I imagine. Who was she?”
He shouldn’t say, and yet Hugh knew he could trust these two men, whom he’d known for over a decade. And Hugh was desperate for news of her. Perhaps they’d heard something given their places in Society.
Hugh lowered his voice to barely a whisper and motioned for them to lean in. “You can’t repeat any of this. She’s the daughter of a marquess. I’d like to know how she’s faring.”
Both Eastleigh’s and Cole’s eyes widened. “Which marquess?” Cole asked.
“Bramber.” Hugh kept himself from scowling. Though he’d met the man only briefly, he hadn’t been impressed. But then, Hugh was also predisposed to intensely dislike him.
Eastleigh blew out a breath. “How on earth did you get tangled up with Lady Penelope?”
“It’s as I said—I was merely in the right place at the right time.” That didn’t at all correspond to what they’d told Pen’s father, but that story didn’t match the truth, which Langford had heard through neighborhood gossip. If the two tales somehow met… It didn’t bear consideration. Hopefully, rumors in St. Giles and rumors in Mayfair would not find their way into the same ears. Perhaps Hugh should tell Langford to keep quiet. Yes, he’d do that. In the meantime, He wanted news of Pen. “Is there any chance you’ve heard how she’s faring since she returned home?”
Eastleigh sipped from his tankard. “She must be fine. There was to be a dinner celebrating her betrothal to the Earl of Findon last Friday, but it was postponed when she took ill.” Eastleigh riveted his gaze on Hugh. “She wasn’t ill, was she?”
Postponed? That didn’t sound good. Hugh shook his head.
“Ah.” Cole looked at Hugh intently. “This sounds like a more involved tale than you’d care to let on.”
Hugh ignored Cole’s observation. “So she’s still marrying this earl?”
