Page 50 of When her Duke Returns
The night had finally drawn to a close, and at last, he came to settle in the musky study of Richon House. He had not seen Mary nor Antony since their run-in, and he feared the worst: that they were off somewhere, being perfectly content with one another. He sighed and settled deeply into the leather armchair of the room, wishing he had a fare set for him over the Atlantic or a smoke to further indulge the dream.
A set of uneven footsteps drifted in from the hallway as Mr. Carlisle came to slump against the doorframe of the room, inebriated and unkempt. He gazed over the study slowly then settled on Alexander with a smile. “Oh,” he slurred, “I thought everyone had gone to wed… No…bed.”
“As didI,” Alexander said. He leaned over and lifted his strewn overcoat from a nearby chair then he gestured for Harry to sit.
The man pouted and came to settle. He drew a pipe from his coat pocket. “What say you? Care for a tipple?”
Alexander shook his head. “I shouldn’t.”
Harry gave him a shrug and lit it up with a candle that had been left on the windowsill. “Suit yourself,” he said once the pipe was between his lips. “Have you enjoyed your evening?”
The man laughed, for it was the only appropriate response. “No,” he replied.
“You don’t like the Stantons.”
“Was that a question?” Alexander asked then groaned. “They’re harmless.”
“Is it because everyone stares?” Harry queried, circling his own face to make clear his point.
“They do, but I pay it no mind.”
“Is it Mary, then?”
Alexander scoffed. “How do you always know so much while doing so little?”
Harry settled against the back of his seat, his head cruising gently back and forth against the headrest. “It is better to be a wallflower than get myself in trouble like you.”
“I don’talwaysget myself in trouble,” Alexander stated.
“Ha! That’s hardly true. You’ve given everyone the run-around since the day you were born, Alex. You don’t have it in you to be boring.”
Alexander was glad to see time had not distanced them. Harry was perhaps the only man who did not look upon him with pity or scorn. “I haven’t known you to take up the pipe,” he said to change to subject.
Harry smiled and took another drag. “There are many things you don’t know about me.” He shook his head quite quizzically. “Francis gave it to me. He said Sophia has forbidden him from smoking, now that he’s to be a father. Poor sod!”
Alexander nodded slowly. “He’s the first of us—To become a father, I mean. It’s mad to think about.”
“We’re not Eton boys any longer. Francis is only the first to start acting like it,” he added as an aside, blowing a gust of smoke toward the ceiling.
“Strange though,” Alexander began, “to think of how far we’ve come… Back then, in boyhood, I had such plans.”
“Such as?”
“I wanted to travel, to make my mark, to bed an innumerable number of women…” the man sighed contently.
“Then you fell for Mary, and your face got torn in half.”
“That’s not how it happened though, is it?”
“Oh?”
“Burkley was the one that had always had eyes for her. It was our families that made the match.”
Harry shifted in his seat and brought his legs up on its armrest. “I remember that... Truth be told, I didn’t want either of you to be my brother.”
“Charming.”
“Don’t take itpersonally… I had enough trouble with Francis as it was. I at least neededoneof you in my corner... Then you pissed off to war, and Burkley grew horns,” he jested, bringing two fingers to his head and wiggling them about.
