Page 97 of If the Slipper Fits
So much for visiting the earl.
Caden sat. Waited.
Zeke raised his glass in a toast.
Caden returned the gesture.
Zeke downed the contents of his glass, then set the crystal on the polished wooden side table between them with a decisive click. “Surprised to see you, after everything you said when you left.”
Caden felt his face go hot. “I may have overreacted slightly. Not that I was wrong, you understand.”
“Of course not,” Zeke said in his standard condescending manner that, for some reason, wasn’t getting Caden’s goat like it usually did.
“The thing is, when I heard about the earl—”
“—The earl’s supposed illness which turned out to be false information?”
Caden nodded once. “The very same. When Ithoughtthe earl ill, my reasons for leaving in the state I did seemed…” Damn. He was not going to call himself childish—even though he had been—and substantiate everything Zeke had said about him.
He started again. “That is, I realized worrying about your low opinion of me might be a waste of my time and not worth drawing a line in the sand over.”
Zeke raised his brows. “I see.”
Caden took a healthy swallow of brandy. The rich amber liquid slid down his throat, warm, smooth, and neat. “Should we go see the earl now?”
Zeke drummed his fingers briefly on his knee. “Actually, if you don’t mind, before we share the news of your engagement with the earl, I’d like to know what in hell you’re up to.”
Typical Zeke. Caden snorted and tossed back the remaining brandy. “The normal manner of things, I expect. One gets engaged, posts the banns, sets a date—”
“Yes, butnormallyone does not get himself engaged to someone who’s already married.”
Caden froze a beat, then drained his glass. “You saw the ad the bastard posted? Color me surprised you paid it any mind.”
“I remarked on it precisely because I recognized the chit. She’s the one you pined over for months after her family—Masters, was the name, if I remember correctly?—departed for London never to return.”
Caden scowled at his brother. “Pined? I did no such thing.”
Zeke smirked. “Please. I pointed the ad out to Kitty and said, ‘That’s the girl whose family summered in Derby when Cade and I were boys. Caden had a madtendrefor her.’ I assumed the poor girl ran away from Bolton once she figured out what sort of scum she married. Do I have it right?”
“Something like that,” Caden grumbled. He scrubbed a hand over his stubble-roughened jaw. “Hell and damnation. Do you think Kitty recognized Anna as the woman in the ad?”
“Anna, eh? That’s what she goes by now?”
Caden grunted his assent.
“As to whether or not Kitty recognized the woman—”
“My fiancé,” Caden corrected, striving for patience.
Zeke’s brows shot up. “Fiancé? I assumed…Wait. Don’t tell me you got the girl with child?”
His patience reached its end. He fixed his brother with an icy stare. Then a thought hit him like a solid punch, square between the eyes and his vision blurred.
Anna very wellmaybe carrying his babe. He’d attempted to avoid such an outcome. Still. Nothing was fool proof. He could well imagine Anna’s belly, round and full. A hot rush of wonder stole his breath.
“I’ll be damned,” Zeke murmured.
Caden blinked. “Eh?” He shook his head and dragged himself back to the present. “I seem to have lost the thread of our conversation.”
