Page 34 of Tamed By a Duke
As for Hugh, he remained silent, mulling over Montague's words. He had never been one to relish the thought of marriage, but after his rain-soaked kiss with Miss Drew the day before, he had to admit that marrying the impertinent Charlotte was exactly what his heart desired.
Oh, she was headstrong, forthright, and entirely unsuited to the role of duchess, but what did that matter when she made Hugh feel so alive? When she made him feel like a man, and not a title.
A man who impulsively kissed a girl in the rain. A man who joked and poked fun at himself. A man who was capable of saying sorry...
As Orsino and Montague continued to parry verbal blows, Hugh began to plot how he might capture Miss Drew's hand. She had entered into their courtship under a cloud of deceit as dark as his own, a fact that Hugh had not given a second thought to. Now that he wished to make her his bride, Hugh found himself worrying excessively that she might discard him as easily as pair of dancing slippers.
You might tell her father that you have compromised her, a wicked voice in his ear whispered. It was no lie—by kissing Miss Drew in the middle of Grosvenor Square Park, Hugh had compromised her and greatly risked damaging her reputation.
If anyone had seen them, he would be forced to offer for her hand.
Unfortunately—from Hugh's perspective at least—it appeared that the good people of Grosvenor Square had not sighted a duke ravishing one of their fellow residents, so the avenue of an honourable proposal was closed to him. As tempting as it was to quote duty and chivalry to bring Charlotte to heel, Hugh knew that if he were to force her hand that way that she would never forgive him.
Though it was still tempting, he had to admit.
No, if Hugh wished to woo Miss Drew, he would have to do it the old fashioned way; with charm. The only obstacle now in Hugh's path was that he was about as charming as a brick and only slightly less subtle. Overbearing, high-handed, and authoritarian were behaviours Hugh was oft accused of, but the charge of an excess of charm had never been levered his way.
Still, a man might at least try...
Orsino and Montague had now begun discussing the forthcoming races at Newmarket, and Hugh forced his attention back to his friends. After a night's drinking in Crockford's, Orsino had purchased a share in a stallion of supposedly of great repute, though it had failed to win a single race since he had invested in it.
"I'm certain that Tab swindled me," he grumbled, referring to Peter Thackery, who had sold him the share.
"Thackery is one of Leo's old acquaintances," Hugh offered, his disapproving tone letting Orsino know just what type of man Thackery was, "I wouldn't be surprised if the horse was lame when he sold you his shares. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he had sold you a cow dressed up as a horse."
"Dash it," Orsino grumbled, before giving a rueful smile, "Though perhaps it is my own fault for investing in anything whilst in my cups."
"The only thing a man should invest in after a night's drinking in Crockford's is a bucket for the morning after," Montague added sagely, before shooting Hugh a funny look.
"What is it?" Hugh queried, wondering why his friend had suddenly become so shifty.
"I heard," Montague began, pausing to clear his throat excessively, before he continued in a pained, halting manner, "That ah—ah—Leo, has returned to these fair shores. Monty Edwards spotted him in Plymouth. You remember Monty from Oxford? He used to drink a cask of ale every evening and stink up the Bodleian the next day; I can't say he has aged well, poor chap."
"Imagine that," Hugh replied dryly, though how he managed to retain his composure was a mystery. It was obvious that Montague had regretted bringing up the subject of Leo, for he continued to prattle on about poor Monty Edwards, who had once vaulted two billiard tables and now could barely walk from gout.
Leo had returned to English soil without telling him
. His brother's silence felt like a physical blow to Hugh, who sat dazedly listening to Montague gabble about nothing in particular.
"I will take my leave, gentlemen," Hugh said stiffly, as he rose to a stand, "I ordered a book in Hatchard's last week and am of a mind to spend this afternoon reading it. Good-day to you both."
Neither Montague nor Orsino made any comment on Hugh's abrupt departure, but once he had left White's to walk toward Piccadilly, he spotted the pair arguing as he passed the famed bow-window.
Despite himself, Hugh smiled, for he could imagine Orsino upbraiding the poor marquess for springing such news upon Hugh so unexpectedly. Which was a shame, for Hugh was glad that while he hadn't heard of Leo's return from the proverbial horse's mouth, he had at least heard it from a friend.
Hugh turned the corner of St James' Street onto Piccadilly Street and headed toward Hatchard's. In truth, he had not ordered any book, but had simply wished to make an escape. After a short stroll, he passed under the black awning—which bore a Royal Warrant of Appointment—into the merciful peace of the shop.
A discreet shop-assistant smiled at Hugh as he entered, a smile which he did not return. He had no wish to be fussed over by anyone—he simply desired to lose himself for a few minutes. With his gaze focused ahead, Hugh made for the staircase, and clambered the three flights of stairs to the top floor. It was quiet up here, away from the more popular sections, and Hugh idly plucked a book from the shelf and made for the leather Chesterfield which stood by the window.
Outside, he had a perfect view of Piccadilly St and Albany House, an imposing, brown-brick building, nestled within a courtyard, which offered prestigious apartment lodgings to London's richest bachelors. Leo had, for a spell, taken up residence there, before he had left for France.
Hugh was lost in thought, idly watching the residents of London whirl past on the footpath below, when the sound of voices drew him from his reverie.
"This is where you will find all the works on crocheting, Miss Drew. If I can be of any more assistance, please do let me know."
Miss Drew?
Hugh turned in his seat and spotted Charlotte, flanked by her towering Valkyrie, inspecting a shelf of books. She picked one, gave a sigh, and turned to make her way toward the window, when she spotted Hugh already occupying the sofa.
