Page 86 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
‘You and His Grace are old friends, I think? How long have you known him?’
‘Since we were lads barely breeched. We were at Eton together, then university.’
‘A longstanding friendship, then.’
‘Indeed. There is no one more loyal to his friends than Derbridge.’
‘Yet he rarely smiles.’
Pettigrew pressed his lips together in a small grimace. ‘There is no denying he is a serious fellow.’
‘Has he always been so?’
Why was she asking all these questions? Because something inside her wanted to know more about the Duke than he was prepared to tell her himself. Even though every instinct told her it was a mistake.
Learning more about him might make it harder to part from him.
And that she must do. Eventually. What? Was she thinking she could delay?
‘He used to be more light-hearted,’ Pettigrew admitted in a low voice. ‘Though I hope you won’t tell him I said so. He changed when the responsibilities of the dukedom were landed on him. After his father’s death he was all work and no play. His great-uncle saw to it.’
‘How old was he when he inherited?’
‘About twelve, I think.’
So young. She knew what it was like to be alone atsuch a young age. Her heart contracted in sympathy for the small boy set so large a task.
‘He was lucky to have you as a friend during such an awful time.’
Pettigrew shook his head. ‘I wish I had been a better friend. I didn’t see him for three years. When he returned to school, he had changed. I do my best to cheer him up, but that’s when he took up boxing and got the sobriquet the dour duke.’
The Derbridge she knew was far from dour. At least, he was when they were alone.
‘Boxing?’
‘Didn’t you see the bruises?’
Men and their sports.
‘I suppose he spars for exercise.’
‘Hardly. If he wasn’t a duke, he’d probably be a champion. I was surprised to see that someone had actually managed to land a punch.’
Pugilism. She shuddered. She had not expected him to have such a violent streak.
‘This is a regular pastime, then?’
‘Everyone knows if you want to find Derbridge, go to the gymnasium first thing in the morning, unless he is out of town.’
The dour duke who boxed for pleasure.
She had thought she was beginning to understand her lover—now she had her doubts.
The curtain slowly rose.
Something across the theatre attracted her attention. A movement. A stirin the audience.
‘Well, well,’ Pettigrew said. ‘Someone has arrived in the Royal Box.’
