Page 48 of His Enemy Duchess

“And?”

“They shall honor the previous agreement.”

Thomas sighed with relief at the answer. “Finally. How typical of them to tease us like that.”

“You know they relish the chase—it is why they are such capable hunters.”

“They can keep it to themselves. Business is business, not sport.” He stood up and walked over to the liquor cabinet, grabbing a familiar whiskey bottle.

Gregory smiled, and Thomas noticed, pausing before he poured two measures.

“I have a feeling there’s something you aren’t telling me, Uncle.”

Gregory shook his head and tried to say something but was quickly interrupted by the study door flying open. Sophia burst in with all the excitement of a puppy.

“You need to clear your schedule,” she declared, her eyes flitting to the desk for half a second, not unnoticed.

“Why? Are we under invasion?” Thomas continued to pour the two drinks. “Has the King regained his faculties? Or is the moon perhaps falling on our heads?”

“Very amusing,” she said drily. “There’s a very important event tomorrow night at the town theater—ergo, I need you to have no prior engagement.”

An awkward silence fell over the room as Gregory and Thomas exchanged glances, while Sophia kept her gaze firmly fixed on her husband.

“Is it… a social event?” Thomas asked, eventually.

“In a sense,” she replied. “There is a local troupe staging a famous play, and as the Duchess of Heathcote, I ought to know the talent of those in the vicinity of the dukedom.”

Thomas frowned. “And why is that so world-endingly important that you barged into my study without even knocking?”

Sophia looked perplexed for a bit. She walked backward and out of the room, closing the door as she retreated.

Then, she knocked on the door.

Gregory couldn’t help but chuckle as Thomas rolled his eyes.

“This is the Duchess of Heathcote. Can I come in, please?”

“Oh, for pity’s sake…” Thomas walked over and opened the door with a light frustration. “Will you just—” He gestured aggressively towards the room.

Sophia bowed with grace and a smile, walking in. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, feeling he might need it. “Firstly, what is the play?”

“Romeo and Juliet. I have always wanted to see it, but Papaloathesthe theater, so I have never had the opportunity,” sheexplained, revealing her true motivation. It had very little to do with the dukedom and more to do with her testing her freedom.

“All right. I hope you have nothing but the best of times.” He gave her a thin smile as her expression dropped.

“But I-I?—”

“Sophia, if you are about to suggest that we attend the play together, then I suggest you rethink what our living situation actually entails.”

Sophia fell silent.

Thomas looked at her confused face for a second and then realized what he had done. A tiny pang of guilt pinched him under the ribs.

“You understand that I am under no obligation to escort you to every social event, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose I understand,” she said, looking away from him.

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