Page 88 of If the Duke Dares
“How is that wise?” Acton demanded.
Droxford looked at Acton as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “Compared to what he typically does—bragging about his exploits—it seems an improvement.”
Acton hadn’t realized how much Bane had done that until this moment. But they’d all done their share of boasting. Well, Droxford hadn’t. He’d never once uttered a word about a romantic or sexual experience.
In some ways, Droxford didn’t entirely fit in with their set, and yet they regarded him as a close friend. Shefford had taken him under his wing when he’d inherited the barony, quite unexpectedly, four years ago. Acton had known him somewhat at Oxford but they hadn’t become friends until Isaac Deverell had become Baron Droxford.
“So, the consummate rake is getting married,” Acton said, setting the newspaper on his lap.
“Before the rest of us,” Somerton noted. “My money was on Keele.”
“Why, because he’s more responsible than the rest of you lot?” Droxford asked.
Somerton inclined his head. “Largely, yes. You would have been my first choice, but I’m not sure you could find a woman willing to suffer your incessant brooding.”
Droxford’s near-frowning expression vaulted into a full scowl. “Nor am I looking.”
“Exactly so.” Somerton stretched out a leg and exhaled. “Alas, it is not Keele, so I’m glad I didn’t place a wager.” Keele was another of their friends, but far more interested in running his estates and turning profits. He’d been married before and seemed likely to do so again. “Perhaps I will for the next one. Who will that be?”
“Shefford,” Acton said quickly. “His parents have been harassing him about taking a wife since the moment he left school.”
“You are likely right,” Droxford said. He looked to Somerton. “Don’t take that bet.”
“Already ahead of you,” Somerton said with a chuckle. He eyed Acton. “You said you were thinking of marrying, that it was time. Perhaps you’ll be next.”
“I have no imminent plans.” Saying that made Acton strangely upset.
His gaze drifted back to the newspaper to reread the announcement. However, before he could do so, his eye caught another name: Miss Persephone Barclay. There was a bloody announcement about her engagement too! His vague agitation vaulted to full irritation. “Fucking hell.”
“What’s that?” Somerton asked.
“He’s just looking at the announcement again,” Droxford said. “Wellesbourne, are you upset that Bane is betrothed?”
Acton managed to consider his response before he blurted anything about Persey. “Surprised, but not upset. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’m furious with him for what he’s done to the young lady he ruined. In fact, I’m trying to help her regain her standing. My mother is hosting a party tonight, and she’ll be there. You must both come and endeavor to speak with her. It will help her to have Bane’s friends seen as supporting her.”
“So, hedidruin someone?” Droxford asked. “That was what I suspected.”
“He certainly gave it his best effort. I imagine being caught in an embrace with her was the something ‘bad’ he was referring to. I should like to know how he ‘fixed’ it, however. The young lady has suffered a great deal.”
Somerton shook his head. “Carrying on like that when he was already betrothed? I confess that’s rather egregious, even for him.”
“It’s despicable,” Droxford said, with a flash of his teeth.
Somerton looked at Acton. “You’re helping this young woman? Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Bane treated her poorly, and since he’s not here to make amends, I will try. The lady’s mother, Lady Radstock, is also a friend of my mother’s.”
“That makes sense,” Droxford said. “It’s good of you to help, though you didn’t really need to. Bane’s transgressions needn’t be our own.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s come to my attention that my reputation isn’t much better.”
“Ah, the real reason you are helping rehabilitate this young woman,” Somerton said with a knowing smile. “Your own rehabilitation.”
“It isn’t that.” Acton tried to scowl but feared he’d never be as good as Droxford.
Perhaps it was that. At least a little. Hadn’t Acton wanted to prove to Persey that he wasn’t the blackguard she presumed him to be? Except he had been.
Had.
