Page 7 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

Minta began her letter to Sera and then found she couldn’t concentrate on it. Putting it aside, she decided to come back to it—after tonight.

Hopefully, she would have something interesting to write about come tomorrow.

*

Huston dressed Percyfor the dinner at Lord and Lady Westlake’s estate, fussing over his cravat.

“That’s enough, Huston. I am certain that I am quite presentable.”

“Of course, my lord.”

He glanced into the mirror, hardly recognizing himself outside his military uniform. He had worn nothing else ever since he’d left Cambridge and reported for duty. Fortunately, the Second Sons had taken him in hand and a day trip to London had been planned soon after his arrival. The trio had taken him to their tailor, shirtmaker, and bootmaker. He had been fitted and left London with a few items. More had arrived at Kingwood after two weeks and Percy would be fitted and accept his final wardrobe once he returned to town. He knew Adalyn had already spoken to the tailor about what would be needed.

It was just one of many ways the Second Sons had been helpful. They—and their wives—had helped him with learning about his responsibilities regarding his estate and his duties in the House of Lords. Since he didn’t know how to dance, the Three Cousins had promised to teach him once they were all in London together. Adalyn also told Percy she would help him learn how to flirt.

He had grown hot and red in the face at that remark.

In truth, he had very little experience with women and none in flirting. Oh, Win had seen to them both losing their virginity during their Cambridge days and helped suggest women for Percy to couple with in the years before they graduated. His innate shyness seemed to put off most women, however. Oftentimes, when he told Win and his other friends he was off for a night of adventure with a willing woman, Percy had merely walked the streets of Cambridge, visiting book shops or stopping for a meal, then sitting on a park bench until coming home in the wee hours.

The years at war had not been amenable for conducting any kind of love affair. While Win and Owen seemed to always manage to discover pretty widows—or even willing wives whose husbands were away at war—in the villages they were stationed near, that had not been a practice Percy was willing to partake in. He also avoided the camp trollops, those who followed the legions of soldiers as they made their way across the land. He worried about the diseases the women carried and chose not to become involved with any of them.

As a result, it had been years since he had been with a woman. Already shy in nature, his lack of experience around the opposite sex had him worried—no, frightened, if truth be told—about what the upcoming Season might be like. The only good thing would be that so many of the unattached females would be fresh from the schoolroom and not know how awkward he truly was.

At least, that is what he hoped.

Thank goodness tonight would only involve Lord and Lady Westlake. Percy remembered they were childless. The couple had come to Kingwood once or twice during his childhood. He remembered Lord Westlake being quite imposing and Lady Westlake rather chatty.

“Anything else, my lord?” asked Huston.

“No, thank you. I am all set.”

Percy left his bedchamber, passing the door to the bedchamber of his future marchioness, again wondering why Rupert hadn’t bothered to wed and provide an heir.

In the foyer downstairs, he waited for Owen and Louisa to appear. Soon, they came down the staircase.

“Had to kiss Margaret before we left,” Owen said matter-of-factly.

He could only shake his head at the change in his friend from rake to doting husband and father. Owen and the other Second Sons proudly discussed their children’s teething as if it were as important as world politics. Perhaps it was. His friends had chosen to center their lives around their families. If only he could find a decent woman and do the same.

They went out to the waiting carriage and headed east.

“Didn’t you say Win’s family lives nearby?” Owen asked.

“Yes, twelve miles to the west of Kingwood,” he replied. “Terrance, Win’s older brother, is now the Duke of Woodmont. Where Rupert and I were always close, Terrance never gave a fig about Win.”

“Have you seen Woodmont since you returned to England?” asked Louisa.

“Neither hide nor hair,” Percy admitted. “Terrance spends a majority of his year in London and only visits Woodbridge upon occasion. He is as wild as they come and according to my solicitor, did not bother to attend Rupert’s funeral.”

“What a shame,” she said. “It seems that Win would make for a better duke than his brother. Is he married?”

“Not that I know of.” He thought a moment. “Terrance must be a couple of years shy of forty. He should think about marriage and an heir. Then again, Terrance has always thought of no one but himself.”

“Where is Westfield?” Owen asked.

“Bailey told me it is about six miles from Kingwood. We will pass through Kingsbury, the local village which lies three miles away, then it will be another three miles to Westfield.”

“I think you will like Lord Westlake,” Owen said. “He is as quick as a whip and always has a ready story.”

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