Page 94 of Impeccable
Lucien glanced down at himself and lifted a shoulder. “Don’t mind my state of undress. Unless it bothers you?”
Gregory waved his hand. “It’s your house.”
“Come to my library.” Lucien led him to the back of the narrow house, where a compact room boasted bookshelves, comfortable though sparse seating, and a dazzling array of art on the walls, particularly of animals. Horses seemed to be the most abundant, but there were also dogs, sheep, goats, and even a cat.
“You like animals?”
“I like paintings of animals,” he said. “Whisky?”
“Why not?” Gregory lowered himself into a chair.
Lucien poured two glasses and delivered one to Gregory before sitting opposite him in what appeared to be the most well-worn chair. Gregory had presumed that was Lucien’s favorite.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Lucien asked, as if they were being judged on polite manners.
Gregory didn’t care to play along with that. He preferred to cut right to the heart of things. “How is Evie?”
After swallowing a sip of whisky, Lucien shook his head. “I don’t know. I should call on her since that rubbish appeared in the newspaper today. Is that why you’re concerned?”
“I’m concerned because her life has been completely upended.”
“Right.” Lucien grimaced, deepening the grooves on his forehead. “How are you? I can’t imagine you enjoy seeing your name in the papers.”
“I don’t really care, to be honest. What harm will it do to me? I won’t get a voucher to Almack’s this Season? The horror.” Gregory took a drink.
Lucien cracked a smile. “We men are never punished the way women are. I can fuck my way through London, and I’d be congratulated.”
The unsettling butler appeared in the doorway. Gregory sat up straight as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
“My lord, His Grace, the Duke of Evesham is here to see you.”
“Bloody hell,” Lucien muttered. “That is all today demands.” He looked down at himself once more. “Reynolds, I need a cravat and a coat. And the cravat has to be one of the obnoxiously colored ones. No, wait. Never mind. As if my state of undress will make him like me any less.” He laughed, and Gregory felt a pang of sympathy. How awful it must be to have such a contentious relationship with one’s father. But then he recalled the fact that he had a similar relationship with his brother.
Lucien squinted at Gregory. “Did Reynolds scare you?”
“He’s rather intimidating.”
“Excellent quality in a butler.” Lucien grinned. “He served in my regiment, and I hired him after he returned to England.”
“Did he get that scar in battle?” Gregory asked.
“He did. If you can believe it, he had a very boyish face before that.”
Gregory shot out of his chair as the duke walked in. He was sure he’d met the man at some point, but they’d had no occasion to converse. He was nearly as tall as Lucien and quite fit for a man who had to be in his sixties. His dark brown eyes and Lucien’s were almost exact duplicates of each other, but the duke possessed a far more fearsome glower.
Lucien didn’t stand. He gave his father a bored stare. “Afternoon, Father.”
The duke’s discerning gaze fixed on Lucien’s torso. “If I’d known you were in dishabille, I would have left.”
“It doesn’t trouble me,” Lucien said with a careless smile. He gestured to Gregory. “Allow me to present Lord Gregory Blakemore. He isn’t troubled by my dress either.”
Evesham swept his focus to Gregory. “I admired your father. He was an impeccable gentleman.” Something in his expression dimmed, almost as if he were silently saying that Gregory was not. Gregory had to assume he’d seen the newspapers.
“Thank you for saying so,” Gregory said.
“Time will tell with your brother,” Evesham noted. “I have yet to spend much time with him, but he seems somewhat inconsequential in comparison. I hope he will meet his duty.”
That the duke had assessed Clifford so accurately was pleasing, but Gregory didn’t show it. “I hope so too.”
