“Well, it’s not as if we aren’t all in the same boat.” Durham grinned, studying the placement of the balls before he leaned over the table to line up his shot.
“You at least have a brother, Durham,” Seymour replied. “Who has seen fit to start populating the whole of England with his progeny?”
“Thankfully,” Durham muttered.
Parker shook his head and spoke for them all, “Enough of this dreary talk. We are supposed to be taking a break from the marriage mart for the summer.”
Seymour nodded. “Let’s at least have a couple of weeks with no managing females. I suggest we leave behind all this marriage talk and wager on a rousing game of billiards.”
Declan’s lips curved as he slapped the table. “Rack ’em up, boys.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m about to become a richer man tonight.”
“You have been rusticating for too long, if you believe we will be of no challenge to you. I believe I can take you.” Durham emptied his tumbler in one gulp.
“Durham, mind your brandy or you’ll owe him another monkey.” Seymour chuckled, watching the ball as his rolled to a stop.
Durham winced. “Are you never going to allow me to live that down?”
“Are your pockets to let again, Durham?” Declan inquired grinning. “If you prefer we can start out slow, say a pony instead?” He inquired with humor in his voice. “I do love to ride.”
“Oh, aren’t you are a hoot.” Durham rolled his eyes dramatically. “I lose, rather extensively,” He flashed a sheepish look. “one measly time, and you reprobates will not let me forget.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Some friends you are.”
“You are lucky that it was to a good friend, such as me. At least I didn’t make you pay up. I am still hanging on to your vowels though.” He smirked, leaning his cue against the side of the table. “I’m saving it for a rainy day, in case my luck should have a turn for the worse.”
Seymour guffawed loudly.
“Try not to have too much fun at my expense.” Durham made a rude noise and gesture.
Declan tapped his chin, then said, “Perhaps I should send to London to have it framed?” With a dastardly look in his eye, he chortled. “Just in case I’m ever in need you know.” He rubbed his hands together once again. “I would hate to misplace such a valuable piece of paper.” He looked around thoughtfully. “I do believe it would look quite smashing in my Billiards room. What say you, Ash?”
Everyone laughed.
Everyone except for Durham, but the effect was ruined when his lips twitched.
“Speaking of riding,” Durham inquired, “I hear you have a new prime piece of horseflesh.”
“Quite right.” Declan grinned. “Lucifer. I just picked him up from Lord Pickerel. He was short on funds.”
Seymour shook his head in disbelief. “You have always had the damndest luck, Hawk.”
Declan’s lips curved. “The best part is that I outbid Rockwell. He was delightfully furious.” His smile deepened.
Durham turned to Declan with a quirked brow. “Rockwell already owns the best stock in England, I doubt he is upset over one trifling horse.”
“Trifling? Tell that to my wallet.” He shook his head with a laugh. “It took great skill to outbid him I’ll have you know.” Declan snorted. “I outbid him just to make him mad. It cost me a very pretty penny.”
“That is why you are harping on my vowels.” Durham smirked.
Declan shot him a look, amusement lighting up his eyes.
“Oh by the bye,” Peyton mentioned, “I hate to put a damper on your mood, but Poppy and Piper have invited friends, as well. “So your plans for no managing females is out of the question. We are going to have about seven of them flittering about the house for the summer.”
“Seven?” Durham groaned.
“This is getting better and better.” With a lecherous look Seymour asked, “Anyone that I might find interesting?”
“I thought you said you were glad to have a couple of weeks without managing females?” Parker raised his brows. “And remember two of the managing females are my sisters and one is my aunt, so mind yourselves.”
The others nodded, exchanging glances.
Drolly Parker replied, “I did ask them to stay away from the Haymarket ware when they were posting their invitations. Sorry to disappoint, Seymour.”
“That is rather dreadfully disappointing,” Seymour said drearily with a mischievous grin. “I am sure I will have no problem finding a willing maidservant or barmaid in the area.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I will just have to make due.” It was assumed by a majority of the ton that he was a reprobate and he so loved to cultivate that image whenever possible.
“Can you attempt to control yourself for a few days, Seymour?” Parker chuckled, knowing his friend did not intend to importune any of the servants.
“Our female guests are to be Agnes Aldebourne, Chloe Preston and Freya Sheffield,” Peyton continued as if not interrupted by Seymour’s humorous rant.
“Freya Sheffield?” Durham choked out. “She doesn’t even speak, just sits quietly in the corner,” Durham retorted irritably, then proceeded to miss his shot.
A stilted hush fell over the room.
Durham turned slowly his gaze crashing with the subject of his caustic remarks, her eyes glaring a hole straight through him.
“For your information, Lord Durham, I do speak, quite well in fact.” She looked down her nose at him as if someone would an impertinent child. “As the daughter of an earl I have received a first rate education.” She eyed him critically, her chin jutted out defiantly. “Obviously something you are lacking in.” She glared at Durham. “I just happen to be very discriminating with whom I choose to speak.” With her arms crossed over her chest, she leisurely perused him from head to toe once more.
All the men in the room cleared their throats to cover their uncomfortable snickers.
“Obviously you did not impress me well enough to make the effort.” She pivoted quickly and stalked away, her slippers tapping angrily down the hall.
Durham visibly winced.
Poppy and Chloe stood with their mouths gaping wide open. Both awestruck with the set down Freya issued, giggling helplessly behind their hands.
As she turned to leave, Poppy couldn’t help but outwardly laugh, which she hurriedly muffled by slapping her hand over her mouth. “You will have to excuse us gentlemen.” She coughed, her brow raised as she looked at Parker. “Will we see you all at dinner?”
“Of course,” Parker said with a gleam in his eye. “Do enjoy yourselves ladies.”
A tingling sensation started at her scalp, working its way down her neck causing Poppy to turn slowly catching Hawksley’s eye.
A glimmer of amusement apparent, Declan gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. His gaze growing more intent, never had he found a woman so striking. Fresh faced misses were not in keeping with his usual style. Nevertheless, her lively humor and serene self-possession intrigued him.
Her gaze locked with his, sparks flared and sizzled. Attempting to quell the fluttery sensation that had developed in her stomach, Poppy spun around and sailed into the hall her heart racing. She dragged in another breath and fought to steady her dizzy head. She ran her fingers down her skirt to steady their shakiness and made her way sedately to the sitting room.
***
“I have to admit, I am impressed, Durham,” Seymour said with feigned approval. “She says plenty for someone who doesn’t speak.”
Durham growled in irritation.
***
Poppy and Chloe barely made it to the nearest settee before they burst out with raucous laughter. Falling together, they held their sides as tears streamed down their cheeks.
“P-p-priceless,” Poppy sputtered, trying to catch her breath and wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She gasped. “Did you s-s-see the look on Durham’s face?” She hooted with laughter.
“Well done, Freya,” Chloe
agreed holding her stomach as she laughed even harder. “Goodness!”
Seemingly oblivious to her two friends, Freya paced back and forth , her spine stiff with agitation. “The nerve of the man.” She harrumphed. “We have not spoken more than a few words of greeting lately and he presumes to know all about me?” She growled with clenched fists, her face flushed a deep red. Her chestnut eyes, one of her best features, were right now glorious. The color amplified to a deep, dark chocolate due to her immense anger.
“Well I say, Brava! Brava!” Poppy encouragingly informed Freya of what she saw. “I wish you had stayed to see Lord Durham’s face.” She chuckled. “His mouth was open so wide he could have caught a trout. I have never seen him look so flustered. You were brilliant. He is always so self-assured; it is nice to see him fall down a rung. Downright entertaining,” she said, drawing in a breath. “Well, he deserved everything you gave him. Don’t you dare apologize?”
“Serves him right,” Chloe chimed in. “Here, here!”
Comfortably enthroned in her chair before the window, Adele worked diligently on her latest pillowcase. She shook her head with her eyes twinkling and a smile on her face. “Man trouble so soon?”
Poppy’s head flew up; she had not realized her aunt was in the room.
Freya sat so forcefully on the edge of her chair that she knocked the side table causing it to rock. “Uh, do be careful with that Cloisonné vase,” Poppy murmured dryly. “It is obscenely valuable. You could probably feed a whole village for a year with it, in fact, I think it is worth more than my dowry.” She once again grinned.
Freya giggled glancing at Adele. “I cannot imagine where my anger came from?” She said with a quizzical look in her eye and a furrowed brow. “I hadn’t even realized I was feeling that way.”
“There’s nothing wrong with passion, my dear,” Adele offered, her tone was mater-of-fact. “It makes life more stimulating.”
“Auntie, say something soothing.” Poppy looked at her.
Adele’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it is a fact.” She shrugged.
“He just made me so fighting mad. I am simply mortified at my display.” She glanced at Aunt Adele before turning back to her friends. “How will I look the rest of the gentlemen in the eye at dinner?” Freya’s cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of red. “I will never understand men. I absolutely must take my dinner in my room.”
Poppy studied her distraught friend. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She gripped her hands together with agitation. “Absolutely not, I refuse to allow you to hide in your room as if you had done something wrong.” Her eyes narrowed. “Let Durham take dinner in his room!” She shouted. “I would not think another minute on it if I were you.”
“You were perfect,” Chloe praised. “You were simply marvelous.”
The sitting room door opened with Piper and Miss Harris gliding in. Both perfect example of how ladies should enter a room.
“What is going on?” Miss Harris shot a glance at Poppy. “What are you girls up to?” With narrowed eyes, she grinned. “I could not even hear myself think. What is all the noise? You girls are laughing in the sitting room and the gentlemen are all in a tizzy in the Billiards room?”
With wide eyes Poppy pasted an innocent look upon her face. “I am not aware of anything untoward, Miss Harris.” Poppy turned laughing eyes to Freya. “Perhaps you might gain more information about the volume from Freya?” Both Chloe and Poppy burst out laughing once again. “She is the troublemaker tonight, Miss Harris.” She informed through her laughter.
“Poppycock, I cannot believe that for a moment.” Miss Harris blinked. “I have never known Freya to be a troublemaker.”
Piper grinned. “This is definitely going to be an enjoyable summer.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I cannot wait until Agnes gets here next week.”
***
“What a mess, a complete and total bumble-broth.” Durham slanted his friends a sharp glance, he groaned loudly as he loosened his cravat. “Why didn’t any of you warn me? Not one of you said a word. You are the worst sort of friends,” he whined with an outraged glare. “Allowing me to walk into a trap, I made a complete ass of myself.” He laid his head on the edge of the billiards table, banging it against the side a couple of times. “I am such an ass.”
Declan replied drily, “Well, it didn’t look like you needed our help to make a complete ass of yourself.”
“You did a fine job all by yourself,” Seymour agreed, nodding his head.
“Please don’t destroy my Billiards table.” Parker interjected in between their sarcastic comments.
Nodding solemnly, Peyton leaned on his cue. “What is going on with you and Lady Sheffield? There was a little too much passion in her speech for mere acquaintances.”
Parker’s lips twisted. “I agree.”
With a look of contrived puzzlement, Seymour said, “By the way, why would she need to talk, Durham?” Seymour gave him a wicked grin. “She’s magnificent. Surely you can find something else more agreeable to do with her?”
“She is that,” Peyton agreed.
“There are so many great things to do with a mouth, why waste it on talking? She’s a fetching piece of baggage,” Seymour teased, dusting a non-existent speck of dust from the arm of his blue coat of Bath superfine. “Talking is so overrated anyway.” He elbowed Parker as he looked at Durham. “Didn’t you give your latest mistress her congé?”
“Now who’s being an ass?” Durham chided, frowning at Seymour. “There is no reason to be crass about the lady.”
“Pardon me, just trying to lighten the mood.” Seymour flashed a vague smile, shrugging his shoulders.
“I draw the line on anyone seducing any of the virgins or servants under my roof. Currently I am talking to you, Seymour,” Parker commanded. “That goes for you as well, Hawk,” he reiterated with a chuckle.
“Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute. Hawk?” Durham wiggled his brown brows suggestively. “Ummm…who are you trying to seduce?”
“Can’t you hazard a guess?” Seymour chuckled. “I saw that look you gave Poppy. Is there something we should know about?” Seymour looked intently into Declan’s eyes.
“Poppy!” Durham and Peyton shouted looking at each other and then glancing over at Hawksley.
Declan grimaced, walking to the liquor cabinet to refill his tumbler. “I just met the girl this morning.” He turned back towards his friends. “Let me get to know her first before you have us married off.” He took a large fortifying gulp.
“I thought we were not going to discuss marriage anymore tonight?” Parker smirked.
“Gentlemen,” Seymour called with a devilish grin. “Are we going to play or what?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner sighed but they asked
one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason
But they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have they made
a pair of stairs to marriage.
As You Like It
*William Shakespeare
“Finley?”
“Yes, Your Grace?” Finley questioned. Small in stature and persnickety to boot, he had been Declan’s valet for fifteen years, ever since he was just a boy. He knew everything there was to know about His Grace and prided himself on having such a pleasant looking specimen to care for. He certainly did not want to dress a corpulent man with heavy jowls. Heaven forbid. He shuddered on that thought.
“You’ve known me for quite some time, Finley and I value your opinion greatly.” Declan knew he was an attractive man, but he took great joy in flustering his valet. “Do I look old to you?” He glanced to the left and to the right in the mirror, furrowing his brow.
“Your Grace?” Finley’s eyes widened with surprise at his master’s line of questioning.
“No apparent reason, mind
you, I’m just curious.” He continued to glance back and forth. “I have not grown fat, have I?” He turned around and peered over his right shoulder at his reflection of his backside in the cheval mirror.
Offended at this line of questioning, Finley’s shoulders went rigid. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, I would never allow you to let yourself go.”
“And I appreciate your diligence,” Declan remarked easily but finding it very difficult to repress a smile.
Finley’s chin lifted with pride.
“I think I’m still quite attractive. I mean, I have not had any complaints.” Fishing for compliments, he watched Finley out of the corner of his eye. “However, I have been out of society for some time now, the tastes of marriageable ladies could have changed considerably since my last foray into Society.”
“Your Grace, I would never indulge in idle gossip, especially pertaining to you.”
“I appreciate your discretion,” Declan interjected.
“However, since you are showing such concern over your person I would be happy to relay what I have heard below stairs.” He looked around as if he would be overheard.
Declan’s brow lifted. “I would never think so little of you to believe you spend your immensely valuable time gossiping over something as trivial as my appearance, Finley.”
“It has been bandied about that you are a well sought after bachelor per the marriage minded mamas,” Finley spoke with a conspiratorial undertone.
“That is only because I am a duke now,” Declan observed. “My looks are of little importance. I could be one hundred years old with no teeth and never bathe for God’s sake and be popular with the marriage minded mamas.” He snorted inelegantly. “Why my character could be black as tar. I could drown kittens in a burlap sack twice daily and be popular with the marriage minded mamas because I am a duke.”
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