Page 70 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
“He’s got pride, Edward. I can’t do something if he doesn’t ask. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.” He turned his attention back to the table.
“Well, that’s the thing you see. He thought I might like to take over the lease on his residence, and I thought it was a jolly good idea. I know it’s a bother for me to stay here when I’m in London.”
“Not a bother.”
“Your wife doesn’t like it.”
Grey straightened. “You’re a sloppy drunk, and you boast about your conquests. She finds it unseemly.”
“She doesn’t have to listen.”
His brother scowled at him. He capitulated. “All right. I’m aware I can quickly wear out my welcome. But I can’t keep imposing on Ashe either, so I thought it was high time I had my own place. He suggested I purchase the furnishings there. Would save me from having to search for pieces, would give him a bit of capital. If you could see your way clear, that is, to providing the funds needed. It would be helping him out, don’t you see?”
“And the lease?”
“I would probably need a slight bump in my allowance for that.”
Grey smacked a ball, sent another down a hole. “What are you going to do with your life, Edward? It should have some purpose to it.”
“It has a grand purpose. Pleasure.”
“Which was well and good when we were twenty. But you’ve lived for more than a quarter of a century now. You need to take on some responsibilities.”
“I’m the spare and a gentleman. I’m required to live a life of leisure. I believe it’s written in the law somewhere. Perhaps even in the Magna Carta.”
Grey chuckled. “God help me, I’m torn between insisting that you grow up and hoping you never do.”
Edward took a step forward. “Go on a final adventure with me. Our last. Then I’ll settle in and do something respectable and mad—run for Parliament perhaps.”
“Good God, the country in your hands? That would be a nightmare.” Tossing his cue stick onto the table, he lifted his glass, drank deep. “You’re smart, though, smarter than you let on. You’ve a good head on your shoulders, and I think somewhere”—he poked Edward’s chest—“deep inside, you long to do good. But you’ll have to accomplish all this without us doing a final trip. I can’t leave Julia, especially now, when she’s so vulnerable.”
Turning away, Edward drained his glass. “When you married, I didn’t gain a sister by marriage, I lost a brother.”
“I grew up. You need to do the same. I think your having your own place is a step in that direction. I’ll fund it.”
He spun back around. “Including the furnishings?”
“To help Ashe, yes.”
“Jolly good. He’ll be relieved, I’m sure.”
“When’s he moving?”
“He’ll be out completely in the next day or so.”
“I think you gentlemen have had enough time alone with your after-dinner port,” Julia said, interrupting them, as she went to Grey, lifted up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “I was growing lonely. Missed you.”
“The arrival of the mistress of the house is my signal to depart,” Edward murmured.
“You don’t have to go,” Grey said.
“I believe I do.” He gave his sister by marriage a little salute. “And it was scotch actually, rather than port.”
“I thought gentlemen always drank port after dinner.”
“As you’ve pointed out on numerous occasions, I’m no gentleman. Your husband indulged me, as he is one. But now I must be off. Thank you for the lovely dinner.”
“We’re glad you could join us,” she said.
