Page 9 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

He could blame her entirely for the words she had uttered, but he wouldn’t. After all, he had more to gain from this arrangement than Miss Young.

Lost in thought, Theodore barely registered when someone approached him until a voice he hadn’t heard in some time reached his ears. “I knew today’s pleasant weather augured something good.”

He looked up to the sight of his old friend. Anthony Hughes, the Duke of Preston. They had known each other since Eton, but Theodore had slowly retreated from the social circles he once frequented, seeking solace in less judicious companionship to dull his burdens.

“Preston,” Theodore greeted, putting forth more effort to mask his weariness. However, he was pleased to see his old friend again.

“Thought I wouldn’t live long enough to see more of your society around,” Preston said, easing himself into the seat opposite Theodore. “Although you do not seem like someone who’s enjoyed pleasant weather today,” he added, his keen observation cutting through Theodore’s facade.

The mention of dancing with debutantes and the exhaustive efforts to dodge the matrimonial schemes of their eager mothers elicited a dry chuckle from Theodore. “Ah, but after an eveningof dancing with giggling and blushing debutantes, and avoiding more matchmaking from their mothers, one’s vivacity is bound to run out, don’t you agree?” he mused, his thoughts drifting to Miss Young, whose presence that evening had been anything but typical.

“I wouldn’t know about the debutantes this season,” Preston responded with a nonchalant shrug, his disinterest in the usual social pursuits evident.

“Then you must have mastered avoiding them and their plaguing mothers,” Theodore chuckled, gesturing at the waiter to bring a drink for Preston. “What is your secret? Do share,” he pressed, half in jest yet genuinely curious.

“I got married,” Preston replied.

The revelation that Preston had ventured into the sacred bounds of matrimony nearly caused Theodore to sputter his drink across the table. It also reminded him of how distant he had become from those he once considered close.

“I beg your pardon?” He scanned Preston’s face for signs of jest, but the serious look returned by Preston quashed any hope of this being a clever ruse to lighten the mood.

“You are in jest, are you not?” Theodore insisted.

“I must confess it was partially unexpected,” Preston said lightly, seeking to ease the discomfort that had momentarilysettled between them. “So you are forgiven for not knowing, Gillingham.”

A surge of guilt momentarily overtook Theodore, the realization that he had allowed his personal tumults to sever their friendship, leaving him oblivious to such significant events in his friend’s life.

“And when did you finally become a tenant for life?” Theodore asked, a part of him still struggling to reconcile with the image of his aloof friend as a married man.

“Just earlier in the season, in fact,” Preston shared, a hint of pride in his voice. “I married Frances Turner.”

Theodore frowned, attempting to recall the name, or even attach a face to it.

“You need not bother. I am certain you do not know her,” Preston laughed, hinting at Theodore’s withdrawal.

“My felicitations!” Theodore clapped him on the shoulder. He was truly happy for Preston, and there was a relaxed air about him that Theodore had never observed before. It could mean that marriage was good for him. Sadly, it did not agree with some men.

“Now that you know my secret in avoiding the matchmaking matrons and their daughters, when areyougoing to implement it?” Preston asked, taking a small sip of his brandy.

Theodore couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, the irony of the question not lost on him given his current predicament. “I have other priorities,” he responded, a touch defensively, his mind briefly flickering to Miss Young and the complexity she had introduced into his life.

“Like courting Miss Young?” Preston quirked a brow. The news of Theodore’s latest social endeavors had apparently reached his ears. And quickly! “It is bound to lead somewhere, isn’t it?” he added, and Theodore’s brow furrowed slightly. “After tonight’s ball, it’s all everyone’s talking about. Your interest and possible courtship of the woman.”

“At least one thing in society remains constant,” Theodore sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Which is?” Preston leaned back in his seat and tilted his head slightly, studying Theodore.

“The gossip,” Theodore replied with a wry smile. He wondered what thebeau mondewould say about him if they discovered his false courtship. He was already a blackguard, and this would undoubtedly convince everyone that he was a devil.

Preston chuckled. “It might interest you to know that Miss Young is one of my wife’s dearest friends. They attended Miss Chatham’s School for Ladies together for four years.”

Theodore leaned close, nodding for Preston to continue. This was the first time he was hearing this. In fact, he knew very little about Miss Young beyond what was said about her in society.

“She is a lovely lady, and I believe she would make you an even lovelier wife.”

Theodore remained silent. The allure of marriage had long been destroyed by his father’s failures. Theodore had steeled himself against the notion of matrimony and clung steadfastly to the vow he had made to himself.

He was not marrying.Ever.

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