Page 61 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
Wakefield nodded. “I thought it’d be best to wait until the lady has her courses and determine whether marriage is necessary.”
Rothesby stood. “Well, there you go. You have it all figured out. It turns out, you don’t need me—”
“I do because I have to determine just how to keep her under wraps as the lady doesn’t want to be kept under wraps.”
Rothesby looked at the door, then Wakefield. The gentleman reclaimed his seat. “You’re going to have to explain exactly what you mean when you saykeep her under wraps.”
With his neck absurdly hot, Wakefield found himself wrestling violently with his cravat.
The duke pointed. “In your seat like a friend. That’s what friends do.”
Wakefield sat. “I asked her to remain here.”
It had been so long since Wakefield had a real friend, he’d quite forgotten the ways between them. The only chap he’d really let close was Waters, and then Waters had gone off and married Marcia.
The duke looked about. “Do you mean here, in the residence where you keep your mistresses?”
Wakefield nodded.
Rothesby burst out laughing for a second time. “Oh, my God, this is bloody rich.” He wiped moisture from the corner of his eyes with no signs of his humor letting up.
“I’m glad one of us finds this amusing,” Wakefield grumbled.
Why had he invited Rothesby again?
“Your solution to having taken a virgin’s innocence was to set her up inside the place where you keep your mistresses? A lady who, by your own admission, was an innocent and belongs to theton.” The duke gave him a pitying look. “My God, you do need help, but I’m not going to be able to offer you any sound advice, as you’re off your bloody head.”
“She’s proving resistant to the idea of remaining here.”
“My goodness,” Rothesby deadpanned, “I wonder why.”
Stirrings of guilt assailed him, and not in a small part because his friend had just pointed out how dastardly Wakefield had been in his handling of the entire affair with Cressida.
“It is essential she remain, Rothesby.” Surely, the other man saw why.
“And why can’t she stay inside her own bloody residence?” Rothesby asked in complete befuddlement.
Apparently, the duke needed clarifying after all.
“If she finds a lover in the interim, it will be impossible to say if any babe conceived is mine.”
“My God, Wakefield,” he whispered. “Please, please, for the love of God, do not tell me you said any of this to the lady.”
At Wakefield’s answering silence, the duke’s eyes bulged.
Rothesby dropped his hands on his knees and leaned over. “Wakefield, let me ask you a question? Why in hell would the lady wish to stay when you’re being such a bloody prick?”
The noble fellow made no attempt to conceal his disappointment and distaste.
Shame was fast becoming an all-too-familiar emotion for Wakefield. He attempted to make the other man see. “We aren’t all blessed with both fine family lines and title and a grand reputation to go with it.”
“You mean like me?” Rothesby nodded slowly and sat back. “I’d argue making amends for our father’s failings means nothing when one lets down one’s own moral code.”
This time, when Rothesby stood, it felt like the greatest moral lashing.
Wakefield deserved far more than an emotional whipping.
“Do you want my advice?” Rothesby quietly asked. “In all seriousness this time?” He didn’t bother waiting for Wakefield to answer. “Stop being such a bloody prim, proper arse. Ifyou’re going to attend clubs like The Devil’s Den and Forbidden Pleasures and whatever other debauched ones you frequent, then be a man about it, and stop taking your fears and frustrations out on the young lady whose virginity you took. And, Wakefield?”
