Page 72 of A Scandalous Kind of Duke

The stable master gave a world-weary sigh. “Mr. St. Blaise has guests.”

* * *

The air insidewas thick with perfume and smoke. Delicate pianoforte music floated down the halls, dueling with shrieks of raucous laughter. Light peered around the closed curtains like a voyeur. Fine gentlemen and fine courtesans, in various states of undress, pranced drunkenly through the rooms, except where they were sprawled on furniture in interesting arrangements of limbs.

Reigning over this bacchanal was, of course, St. Blaise, as beautiful and destructive as Lucifer himself. He lounged in a green brocade armchair wearing nothing but his breeches and one of Leo’s waistcoats, with a horde of admirers at his feet.

Upon seeing Leo, St. Blaise leaped up and raised his crystal goblet in an exuberant toast.

“Brother dear! Welcome home! The prodigal duke has returned! What a thrill to see you at long last!”

Every exclamation slammed into Leo like a fist. Even the drunkest guests were suddenly sober enough to remove themselves from his orbit.

“And what a thrill to come home to this welcoming party,” he said.

“Not a welcoming party. It’s a search party!” St. Blaise beamed. “You disappeared, so we gathered to search for you.”

Leo cast his eye over the once-elegant salon, now looking disheveled and mildly ashamed. Searching for him? The only thing anyone here was searching for was a good time and a rotten ending.

He was something of an expert in good times and rotten endings.

“You don’t seem to be searching very hard,” he observed.

“But we found you. Because look! Here you are! What a frenzy London was in, wondering where you ran off to.”

Leo whipped his head around. “Why the devil should anyone care? I retired to Richmond for some peace and quiet.” He repeated his alibi like a criminal in the dock. “Hardly cause for concern.”

“Ah, but in the circumstances, it looks like you scarpered.”

The wicked glee in his half-brother’s expression gave him pause. “What circumstances?”

“Absconded. Fled. Decamped. Escaped. Run off.”

“What circumstances?”

“Of course,Inever believed you would behave so dishonorably as they said,” St. Blaise went on blithely. “‘My dear brother Polly would never have disappeared willingly,’ said I. ‘Maybe he’s been kidnapped or robbed by highwaymen, and while all of London is maligning his good name, he’s bleeding in a ditch while wild dogs eat his face.’” St. Blaise grinned. “But here you are, face uneaten. Surprisingly unshaven, but also uneaten, and I am very glad about that.”

“So am I.” Leo rubbed the stubble on his itchy—but uneaten—jaw. “Now, what circumstances?”

“The circumstances of you getting engaged to Miss Susannah Macey and running off without informing her family or publishing the notice in the papers, as only a scoundrel and cad would do.”

“I’m not engaged to Miss Macey.”

“And now he denies it! The scandal!” St. Blaise fell back, as if in a swoon. “You used to be so honorable, yet there’s that poor lady become a laughingstock for fancying herself engaged to you while you go running off.”

What the devil had happened? Had Renshaw become confused, mistaken Leo’s request to court her as an actual betrothal? Surely Miss Macey herself would have not said a word?

Or…

“Perhaps this rumor was started by someone with a vested interest in my getting engaged to Miss Macey,” Leo said. “For example, someone who would win a sizable sum of money in some asinine bet.”

St. Blaise’s eyes opened wide. “No! Polly, my dear brother, you cannot be referring tome?”

“Yes, Tristan, my dear brother, I am referring to you.”

St. Blaise studied him, suddenly not as drunk as he had appeared. “Then it’s true what they say,” he said softly. “Nothing will rile you up these days. Remember the scraps we used to get into whenever Papa Duke forced us together? You would go wild. What happened to you, Polly?”

Leo ignored the question. “So, you attempted to win not only the bet on my engagement, but also a few hundred pounds for making me angry, is that it?” he said. “Tell me, amid all the fun and games, did you give a single thought to the consequences for Miss Macey?”

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