Читать книгу A Disgraceful Miss - Elaine Golden - Страница 8

“That girl will be the death of me, Vine.”

Julian Kenneway, the Earl of Vinedale, was leaning over his favorite billiards table at White’s, when Daniel Walsh made this declaration. Julian paused in assessing his next shot and glanced toward his friend.

Ten years Julian’s senior, Daniel wasn’t one for getting upset about much of anything. But now that Daniel was reunited with his beloved Charlotte, Julian wouldn’t sign any vowels betting on it. In fact, Julian couldn’t resist the opportunity to goad Daniel. Just a little.

“Your new wife already curtailing your leisure activities?” Julian asked. The scathing look he received nearly caused him to lose the serious expression he was trying to hold.

“I won’t dignify that remark with a response,” said Daniel. “It’s Angelica, not my wife. How’s a man supposed to maintain his sanity with a beauty like that on his hands? She’s catching the eye of every buck in town, and I want to throttle them just for drooling on her glove.”

Careful not to respond, Julian returned his attention to the table, took aim and released. The ivory cue ball hurtled across the felt toward its target, which sunk in the netted pocket with authority. A moment later, the cue ball followed with a dull clack. Disgusted, he yielded the table and stepped away.

“What, ho!” crowed Daniel as he eyed the slate field with a gleam in his eye. “That’s not your usual shot. Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you sink the cue like that before.”

Julian ignored him, his thoughts forestalled on Daniel’s earlier remark. “So don’t let them drool on her,” he said, the words tumbling out against his will.

“As if t’were that easy, Vine. Charlotte won’t let me interfere. Says it’s perfectly natural for a girl Angelica’s age to encourage the beaus.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “As if that should make me feel less put-upon.”

Left to hover between them, thick and silent as soot-laden fog, was the knowledge that Daniel didn’t have the right to interfere with Angelica. Insofar as the world was concerned, Daniel was Angelica’s brother-in-law; in reality, he was her sire. Just the prior year, Daniel had returned to England for the first time in nearly two decades and reunited with his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Fortney. And had discovered Angelica was their child.

Daniel wasn’t even her guardian, so he couldn’t offer her more than the simple protection of a brother-by-marriage. He was relegated to the impotent role of escort-about-town.

“I swear, if I wasn’t there glaring a warning, they’d be drooling on her bosoms, as well—which, I’ve also noted to Charlotte, are too exposed. She claims the gowns are of a modest cut, but I remain unconvinced. Your turn.”

And lovely bosoms they were, too, Julian couldn’t help thinking. He admired them every chance he got, not that he would admit that to his friend. He rather liked his teeth where they were. Julian stepped toward the table, nonchalantly eyeing his next shot.

But… He frowned and paused, tightly gripping his cue stick. “Who’s been paying her undo attention?”

“Haversham, for one. I think he’s working up the nerve to approach Wainsborough.”

Julian froze. The Duke of Wainsborough, as the head of Angelica’s family, was her de facto guardian, which could mean only one thing. A marriage proposal was imminent.

Julian had known it was an eventuality—there was a reason they called the London season the Marriage Mart. But he’d considered it a distant concern. Had hoped it would be in the far distance.

Daniel laughed. “But little good it’ll do the man even if Wainsborough does give his consent.”

“How’s that?”

“According to Charlotte, the chit’s long since set her cap. Wouldn’t even consider Haversham’s proposal if he managed to choke it out coherently with seraphim standing as witness.”

Which was saying something. Haversham was a well-set marquess, which was sufficient to elicit the enthusiasm of every other husband-seeking hopeful in town.

“Who’s the lucky lad, then?” And why had Julian never heard this before? His heart hammered in his chest, dreadful and steady as a death knell.

“Lord Bradley Carston, apparently. Do you know him?”

“I know his family. Bradley’s a bit younger, so we didn’t attend university together. Second or third son, isn’t he?”

Was it getting hot in here? Julian tugged ineffectually at his high collar, mentally cursing the extra starch his valet used.

“Second son. Bradley’s been on the Grand Tour, so Angelica’s been biding her time till his return. Won’t take any of the other gentlemen seriously. For which I’m grateful, but my reprieve is nearly done. Rumor has it, Lord Bradley has returned.” Daniel sighed dramatically as he chalked his cue. “And, so, my demise is imminent.”

Julian’s heart plummeted.

God, if it were true, then Julian’s life was about to become a misery. Just the thought of Angelica attached to another man was enough to send him into paroxysms of malcontent. But to watch her dote upon one with affection?

Julian finally swung the cue stick, though this shot wasn’t much better than his last. When Daniel stepped up and quickly cleared the table of the remaining balls, he was relieved. He’d lost the desire to play, too distracted to concentrate further.

For, he had a secret. Something he couldn’t talk about with Daniel, the man he loved in place of the brother he’d never had and the father who had died just after his birth. Daniel had taught him how to eradicate the nightmares that haunted long after the vicious battles in India had been left behind. By the time Julian had deployed to Bombay with a fresh commission in the army, Daniel had been there long enough to be numbed by it all.

No, Julian couldn’t—wouldn’t—sacrifice the filial bond that they shared because he was weak.

Because he was in love with Angelica.