Page 34 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“You are welcome, Harry. I trust no one is aware of my purpose here?”

“Not a soul beyond this study.”

Drew rose and walked to the cabinet where Harry kept his liquor. Picking up a glass from a tray atop the table beside the cabinet, he helped himself to some gin before holding the decanter up toward Harry. “Fancy some?”

Harry shook his head, trying to recall every man that had come to him after his father’s death to demand settlement. Six gentlemen, in particular, sprung to mind, and any one of them could be responsible for his current woes.

“Tell me about your wife,” Drew interrupted his thoughts.

Harry blinked slowly, bringing his attention to the question he had just been asked. “Her name is Bridget, and the Viscount of Malmore is her father.” He deliberately gave him that information and braced himself for disapproval.

None came. Drew only tilted his head and said, “I am happy you have not changed. A gentleman with less honor would have believed what he heard.”

“You heard, then?”

Drew shrugged. “All a bag of moonshine. Society is a wicked place.”

Harry had purposely refused to ask her about the scandal, reasoning that once he demanded to know about her past, then she would have the prerogative to learn about his. Until he was ready to reveal his secrets to her, he should not seek hers.

“Do you know—,” Drew was in his seat again and regarding him with his head tilted to one side, “you are not as angry as you were the last time I saw you. Is it Bridget?”

Harry smiled despite not wanting to reveal what he felt to anyone.

“Unbelievable!” Drew yelled. “Where is she? I must meet this angel that is bringing light into your life.”

“You cannot know if there is light in my life, Drew,” Harry said defensively.

His friend seemed unperturbed by that remark. “I see it. You went years burning anyone who dared to come near you, and now you smile at the mention of your wife. I must meet her to thank her.”

“Very well. Finish your gin. I will not have you appear uncouth before my wife.”

Drew gulped down the entire contents of the glass and stood. “Shall we?”

Wordlessly, Harry gained his feet and led him out of the study. He stopped to ask Lander where Bridget was before proceeding to the drawing room his butler told him she ought to be in. She was standing in the middle of the room while several footmen brought down the curtains. The man he had employed to oversee the castle repair and redecoration was showing her different swatches of fabrics.

“You are a fortunate man!” Drew chuckled beside him.

Bridget looked up from the fabrics in her hand, a soft smile gracing her lovely features when she saw him. His cold heart filled with pride at that instant.

“Bridget, this is Lord Drew Mercer, a very good friend of mine,” he introduced, and Drew gave a magnificent bow.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”

“It is my pleasure, as well, Lord Drew,” she said gracefully. “Will you be staying with us in Grayfield?”

“Sadly, I will not,” Drew said with an exaggerated display of regret, reminding Harry of when they were younger, and Drew attempted to be charming. “I am staying at the Blue Horn in Daventon, but I will visit Grayfield often during my stay in Suffolk.”

Bridget smiled. “We are happy to have you.”

Drew turned to Harry with a hand on his chest. “Such perfection.”

Bridget colored up and Harry tugged at Drew’s sleeve as he suppressed a groan. “I should take him away before he swoons.” His teeth were clenched as he spoke. His muscles tightened with a possessiveness over her that he had never felt before.

“I can feel my breath leaving me!” Drew called over his shoulder and Harry almost kicked him.

“You will keep quiet,” Harry growled once they were out of the drawing room. He had the need to claim her then, show every man in England that she was his. Turning, he marched to his study.

“Oh, come now, Harry,” Drew protested, following him. “I only complimented her. Do not tell me that you are offended by my goodwill.”

---