Page 33 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Even in the most joyous of times, you will not permit me anywhere near you.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “I do not envision your marriage being consummated with such a demeanor.”
Henry shot him a warning glare. “Do not speak of my marriage.”
“But I am ever so curious.” Thomas flagged down a barmaid, eyeing up her generous, bursting chest pressing against her dress.
It is no sunlit display, Henry thought, thinking only of Veronica—before he caught himself once again thinking such things.
“Four more pints, please.”
“What has possessed you?” Henry muttered. “God knows how many you have already been through.”
Thomas shot him an easy grin. “Last we left off, you were a grumpy old duke?—”
Henry narrowed his eyes. “Old?”
“Fine—just a grumpy duke. And now, you are married, a settled man with a beautiful duchess, I hear.”
“Settled,” he scoffed, looking away.
“Regardless, you are married, and the gossip sheets—yes, yes, I read them—said it would never happen. And it has! Surely that warrants a pint, does it not?”
Henry glowered at him again.
The inn’s noise swirled around him. As much as he liked his peace and solitude, he enjoyed the life in the Hoof’s Inn. Conversation rose, glasses clinked, and shouts across the bar should have rattled the windows.
“We are a far cry from the renowned gentlemen’s clubs, are we not?” Thomas asked, noting his focus on the room around them. “As a refined man myself, many would think I prefer those. However, village inns like these feel more intimate to me. Which is why I asked to meet here. If you were to glare at me for enquiring about your marriage, then at least I should havesomecomforts.”
“I am more interested in my own enquiries toyou,” Henry said. “What did you find out of the Earl of Grantham?”
Thomas waved him off right as their beers arrived. As much as Henry tolerated Thomas, called him a friend even, he couldn’t help his impatience at being dismissed.
Thomas hoisted a pint right over his head with enough gusto that it almost sloshed.
“It is always business first with you!” he crowed. “Pick up your pint and toast with me to your wife, Your Grace.”
Once again, Thomas only met Henry’s glare, and he did not pick up his pint yet, no matter how much he would be appreciative of it in that moment.
Perhaps the beer would chase Veronica from his mind.
“What?” Thomas asked. “Trouble in paradise, Your Grace?”
It was said with all the sarcasm that his friend constantly possessed. Until, at least, he would let Henry change the topic to business.
“All right, all right,” Thomas continued. “Let me at least take a sip first. I shall let your wife know when I meet her that you would not let me toast her.”
“You will not meet her,” he half growled.
They were married in name only. There was no need for procession and public pretense, he hoped. It was bad enough that he had needed witnesses. Of course, Thomas would know as his father, Mr. Shawcross, had been Henry’s own witness.
“All right, all right, I shall tell you what I know,” Thomas finally said. “It just so happens that when I was on my travels, oh, some weeks ago, I was looking for an old family heirloom of one of my father’s clients. They claimed it was with another family member who had moved to France. But when I arrived in the beautiful Paris, that family member said they had given it back a decade ago.
“Off I came back to Englandbut…” Thomas paused, holding up a finger to take a long few swigs of his beer. “… when I sailed, my captain just so happened to have connections in the Ton. He had given up his title many years ago to travel across Europe. Anyway, he mentioned carrying an Englishman of noble birth to Europe as I believe was planned.”
Henry nodded, leaning in, interested.
“But the captain told me that that man was scheduled to return a week later after conducting business. However, the Englishman did not show up. On the port, the captain asked around. He had been paid handsomely, of course, so he did not want to risk leaving the port without the man. But after several hours, he still did not show, and the captain was forced to leave. Yet, he overheard that the Englishman was stranded on a Spanish island. To the captain, it was one more Englishman. He could find other travelers, so he paid it no mind.”
“And you think the Englishman could be Robert Hartley?” Henry asked.
