Page 6 of Season of the Scoundrel
The comment landed as she’d intended—a blow straight to his gut.
His father had died in the middle of his fortieth year. Far too young. Completely unexpectedly. Lifewasunpredictable, and marryingwashis duty.
She seemed to see the shift in his expression, that he’d understood her meaning and it had caused him to consider the issue seriously. After another moment, she stood, her lavishly beaded gown rustling.
Ross stood too and went to her. “Thank you for coming, Mama.”
“It is always good to see you.” She cupped his cheek. “I hope to see you again soon with a very proper young lady on your arm.”
He stifled a groan, but subtlety had never been his mother’s way, and he loved her for her forthright manner, even when he was being bombarded by it.
“I must be off. I have a train ticket booked to return to Sussex today,” she announced, then swept toward the door. At the threshold, she turned back. “Oh, and do expect an invitation from Lady Tressick. As a reminder, she hastwolovely, unwed daughters.”
After she’d gone, Ross settled into the chair behind his desk and prepared for his day. Yet memories came unbidden of a dark-haired lady whose body fitted neatly against his own, whose chin bore an appealing dimple, and whose nose and cheeks were sprinkled with freckles.
He hadn’t found it so difficult to focus in a very long time. Though it was his own fault. He’d been so preoccupied with building profitable businesses over the last couple of years that he’d refused nearly every invitation that came his way. He hadn’t even found the time for a mistress or the briefest of liaisons.
In truth, none of that had ever come easily to him. Presented with a room full of eligible ladies, his usual desire was to escape, not because he was churlish or disliked company, but because crowds unsettled him. As a duke, all the eyes in a room turned his way. Each person expected him to behave in a certain manner, to say all the correct things. All his life, expectation had been his companion. He’d been watched and assessed by his parents, nannies, governesses, and umpteen tutors. There’d rarely been a day of his childhood when he hadn’t been expected to study, to ride, to hunt, to prove his mettle, to show anyoneand everyone that he would one day be an excellent Duke of Blackbourne.
Though, of course, none who’d prepared him to become a duke had ever imagined the title would come to him at fourteen.
So, with few opportunities to be carefree, there’d been no grand tour, and he’d never had an interest in frequenting brothels or gambling dens as many of his university friends had. After two brief liaisons in his twenties, he’d also realized he did not enjoy such shallow entanglements. He struggled to commit his body to someone without his feelings becoming engaged.
Marriage seemed the obvious solution, and yet he hadn’t found the time to court anyone properly.
Perhaps his mother was right. The moment had come. If he was so overcome by the feel of a young woman’s body brushing against his own, he’d definitely gone too long without feminine company.
When Lady Tressick’s invitation came, he’d accept. Perhaps one of her daughters would prove as enticing as a sable-haired, green-eyed hellion.
Rather than returnto his townhouse at the end of the day, Ross headed to his favorite club. A friend had invited him to come for a drink and a game of cards. But Chesford had not yet arrived.
Gesturing to a staff member to bring his favored beverage, Ross settled into a chair and then picked up a newspaper—one of his competitor’s issues—that lay on the table in front of him.
“Blackbourne,” a deep, familiar voice said a moment later. “I’d hoped to see you here this evening.”
Ross smiled at the gentleman’s approach and stood to greet his friend, fellow duke, and ally in the House of Lords, the Duke of Edgerton.
They were the same age, of the same mind about supporting bills to protect workers and the poor, and both invested widely in various business interests.
“I don’t often see you here, Edgerton.”
“I rarely am.” He grinned, and no further explanation was required. The man had only been married a few years and was ridiculously besotted with his duchess.
“If I’m honest, I came with the sole purpose of finding you,” Edgerton admitted.
“Oh?”
“I have been watching with great interest as you’ve improved the fortunes ofThe Sentinel.”
Ross gestured to the chair across from him, and Edgerton sat, though he leaned forward. Ross sensed a sort of anxious energy about the man that was at odds with his usual demeanor.
“As it happens, my sister-in-law is quite passionately determined to become a journalist, and she’s currently seeking an opportunity.”
“Has she published previously?” Ross asked. He was not at all opposed to hiring a lady to join his staff. Indeed, he already had, but there was always room for fresh talent. Especially asThe Sentinelworked to grow its readership.
“She has not.” Edgerton’s mouth curved. “She’d bid me to say notyet. Though she has several pieces she’s worked on for some time. She’s a keen researcher and has an almost terrifying ability to collect and retain facts.”
Ross chuckled. “Terrifying, is she?”
