Page 74 of Duke of Bronze
"Your Grace," Sutherton greeted with a polite inclination of his head.
Colin returned the gesture. "Sutherton."
With that, the young Earl excused himself, leaving the room in an air of quiet satisfaction, as though he had just discovered a newfound enthusiasm.
Colin turned to Roderick, arching a brow. "I see you have acquired quite the eager audience."
Roderick merely shrugged.
Colin, however, found himself oddly pleased. He had been uncertain how Roderick would be received among his guests, but the exchange with Sutherton had been easy; natural even. The man who had sat before him had been open, animated—anentirely different creature from the one who now regarded him with barely veiled indifference.
So, the disdain was reserved solely forhim, then.
Colin's jaw tightened at the realization. The thought had barely settled before Roderick, as if sensing it, shifted once more into that practiced, cold courtesy.
"Some men appreciate my world," Roderick remarked, his voice even.
Colin could not help but feel the sting of accusation beneath the words.
"Do we not all?" he returned smoothly, unwilling to rise to whatever bait was being laid before him.
"I would not know," Roderick mused with a shrug. "Dukes are not often required to see beyond the silver spoons with which they eat."
Colin went still. The phrasing was deliberate, its meaning all too clear.
The tension between them thickened, truths lingering just beneath the surface of civility. Was it mere bitterness? Or did Roderick believe himself entitled to more than he had been given?
For the first time, Colin wondered whether his unease had been warranted after all.
But most pressingly, Colin wondered if he ought to be concerned now.
"You are quick to judge a book by its cover," he remarked, measured.
Roderick's lips curved slightly, though his eyes remained sharp. "Are the covers not mere reflections of the book's contents? I do not judge, Your Grace. I merely state what is plain to see."
"To each his own opinion," Colin returned smoothly, offering a small, knowing smile.
He watched as Roderick reached for the decanter, refilling his own glass with practiced ease. What he did not anticipate, however, was the man tipping the crystal vessel toward Colin's as well.
Colin let out a low chuckle. "Pouring for your host? Bold indeed." He lifted his glass in faint amusement. "You have admirable nerve."
Something shifted across Roderick's features. For a brief moment, Colin thought he caught the ghost of amusement there, fleeting but unmistakable.
A silence passed between them, one not entirely tense, nor wholly companionable either.
"I trust you enjoyed your walk in the gardens," Colin said at last, taking a sip of his drink. He let the words settle before adding, with deliberate intent, "Lady Anna is always pleasant company."
There was the barest pause before Roderick inclined his head. "She is indeed." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "One of the rare few among her kind who see beyond their silver spoons. A woman with a most generous heart."
Colin noted the slight curve of the man's lips, and the softening of his eyes. Gratitude?
A brow quirked before Colin could stop it, but he masked his interest well. A thought occurred to him; one that slotted into place with unnerving clarity. The foundling hospital. It was not far from Roderick's own residence. Could it be that Anna's charitable endeavors had extended beyond mere formality? Had she, in her boundless goodwill, befriendedhim?
"You must have quite the acquaintance," Colin mused lightly, though his intent was anything but idle.
Roderick's gaze sharpened slightly. "Friendship," he corrected without hesitation.
Something twisted, dark and unwelcome, within Colin's chest.
