Page 60 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
Rothesby sat expressionless and then, with a thunderous bellow, he roared his hilarity. “I may be a rogue, but I’m not a sloppy one. I’m not some youth at a university and neither are you, Wakefield. What difficulty could you have possibly gotten yourself into with a lady who frequents The Devil’s Den?”
Wakefield knew the moment Rothesby sensed the gravity.
The duke’s angular countenance grew serious.
Wakefield considered his words carefully. Though the man was a rogue with a wildly notorious reputation, Wakefield trusted him. The fellow was a gentleman in every way. Back in their Eton days, Rothesby had been the favorite lad all the other boys wished to be and keep company with. With the adoration heaped upon him, Rothesby could have been a prig. But instead,he’d looked out for the bullied students—the ones like Wakefield and his former friend, Waters.
Even though he was confident Rothesby wouldn’t breathe a word of what they discussed, this particular exchange had to do with Cressida. She had her name and reputation to worry about.
Taking a deep breath, Wakefield went on to explain. “You are well aware of the…” He grimaced. “Auction that took place.”
His wasn’t a question, but Rothesby nodded anyway.
As Wakefield shared, he took care to omit any and all details that would properly identify Cressida. When he’d finished, the always composed Rothesby looked mildly ill.
His good humor gone, the duke unhooked his leg and sat back in his chair. “Well, hell. I’m afraid I can’t help you with this. This situation is…is…I…”
Hell, he’d managed to leave the glib Rothesby speechless.
Cursing, Wakefield ran his hands through his hair and tugged.
Rothesby wore a sympathetic look.
“I should also add,” Wakefield mumbled, “the lady…was a virgin.”
The duke had a visceral response so strong that had he not been sitting, Wakefield knew he’d have hit the floor. “She was not a Cyprian?” he asked disbelievingly.
“No, she was not. We’ve apparently met before.”
“Zounds.” Rothesby grimaced. “Well, consider this the last auction I ever take part in at The Devil’s Den or any club, for that matter.”
“I’m glad my mistake has proven a help to you, Duke,” Wakefield muttered. “Now if we can return to my situation.”
The duke lay his arms on the sides of his chair and drummed his fingertips. Suddenly, he stopped that infernal tapping. “You can always marry the lady.”
Wakefield stared at him. “That is your solution?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Isn’t it possible that may have been the lady’s plan?”
“Yes, very possibly,” Rothesby acknowledged. “The thought did enter my head.”
Wakefield frowned. Could the lady be capable of such treachery? He didn’t want to believe so, because, hell, he…liked her. He admired her spirit and willingness to defend herself against a dolt like him.
“The fact remains, Wakefield,” Rothesby said, recalling his attention. “You did take the lady’s virginity, and by your own account, you know her.”
Wakefield exploded to his feet. “I don’tknowher. I cannot recall her.”
Rothesby tilted his head back but didn’t bother to stand. “Well, she knows you.”
“It’s the bloodyton,” Wakefield railed. “We all know one another. It’s an incestuous affair.”
The duke pulled another face. “Come on now, fellow. These are the women we’re going to have to marry. Don’t need to go painting them like they’re some sisters or cousins.” He paused. “Though, in fairness, most of them are cousins.”
“What else do you have, Rothesby?” Wakefield urged impatiently.
The gentleman shook his head. “What else do I have?”
Horror set in. “My God, this is the only advice you had. You are bloody useless, Rothesby.”
“I’m bloody useless?” the duke scoffed. “This from a man who has no possible solution of his own, is desperate for help, and called me…” He must have seen something in Wakefield’s eyes. For he sharpened his eyes on him. “Wait, you do have an idea.”
