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Authors: Vivienne Lorret
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appointments so that he could be at Wolford’s this morning? Curiosity, perhaps?
“My people?” Thayne mocked, shaking his head. “I’m not biting on your hook this time. The next thing I know, we would be in a brawl—”
“If you intend to brawl, please adjourn to the ballroom,” Wolford said in a bored tone, his voice gravelly, as if he’d just woken. When he stepped into the room, his disheveled dark hair and heavily whiskered jaw confirmed it. He squinted his green eyes, either at the two of them or at the scant rays of morning light coming in through the window. “I would not want your clumsy skirmish to endanger my collection.”
“Is that what you call all of this?” Jack asked with a chuckle. “I thought you were preparing an exhibition for a museum.”
“Just a few things I’ve picked up over the years.” Wearing a paisley banyan over his shirt, cravat, and trousers, Wolford trudged to the window and closed the curtains. Once the room was immersed in shadow, he released an exhale and opened his eyes fully. Then he poured a cup of tea from the service waiting on his desk, drained it, and poured another.
Thayne executed a chuckle and swept a hand through the air. “You have enough in this room to begin furnishing a new house.”
“My other houses are equally full,” Wolford remarked, as if the matter were mere happenstance. He had been born into a fortune and never wanted for anything in his life. While that fact had once irked Jack when they were schoolmates, the truth was that Wolford wasn’t arrogant about it. He’d never once been a prig, flaunting his possessions. Moreover, neither Wolford, Thayne, nor Vale had labeled Jack a bastard and dismissed him, like most of the others had done.
“There are many elite who would enjoy a tour of your houses,” Thayne continued. “I’m certain it would go a long way in improving your standing. Especially to those who disapprove of your hedonistic display of wealth.”
Jack scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, hiding a laugh. If this was Thayne’s method for transforming Wolford, Jack needn’t worry for Lilah’s sake.
Abruptly, he frowned, distracted. He wasn’t worried for Lilah Appleton. The outcome of her venture made no difference to him whatsoever. His being here was a means of satisfying a mere curiosity. Nothing more.
“And there is a salver piled high with invitations from those who thoroughly enjoy my hedonism, in every aspect. I am more of a mind to take pleasure in their company,” Wolford said with a familiar, wicked gleam. His reputation for extravagance encompassed more than a steady acquisition of objects. Rumors of the salacious parties he attended kept his name from being spoken too loudly by those in society.
Leaning back against his desk, Wolford crossed his arms over his chest and looked from Jack to Thayne. “Have you come to admire my latest acquisitions or merely to scold me, as my housekeeper does?”
When Wolford looked to him, Jack jerked a chin in Thayne’s direction. “I believe the marquess has something of a business proposition for you.”
“I . . . yes . I do.” Thayne shot Jack a look of warning before regarding Wolford once more. “I’ve recently acquired a new property, and I am in need of furnishings.”
“I heard all about it at Lady Reynolds’s party last evening. Your dealings with Lady Granworth have become infamous.”
Thayne coughed. “You’ve heard?”
“By now, I’m certain everyone in town is aware that you practically stole the Widow Granworth’s house right from under her nose.” Wolford tsked.
“Oh, that,” Thayne said on an exhale. “There was no thievery involved. I merely made a more handsome offer. I’m certain that is something you both can understand.”
“There is nothing wrong with being a man of action, but I’ve never procured an object on which another person has laid claim,” Wolford added, clearly to antagonize their friend. “Have you,
“My people?” Thayne mocked, shaking his head. “I’m not biting on your hook this time. The next thing I know, we would be in a brawl—”
“If you intend to brawl, please adjourn to the ballroom,” Wolford said in a bored tone, his voice gravelly, as if he’d just woken. When he stepped into the room, his disheveled dark hair and heavily whiskered jaw confirmed it. He squinted his green eyes, either at the two of them or at the scant rays of morning light coming in through the window. “I would not want your clumsy skirmish to endanger my collection.”
“Is that what you call all of this?” Jack asked with a chuckle. “I thought you were preparing an exhibition for a museum.”
“Just a few things I’ve picked up over the years.” Wearing a paisley banyan over his shirt, cravat, and trousers, Wolford trudged to the window and closed the curtains. Once the room was immersed in shadow, he released an exhale and opened his eyes fully. Then he poured a cup of tea from the service waiting on his desk, drained it, and poured another.
Thayne executed a chuckle and swept a hand through the air. “You have enough in this room to begin furnishing a new house.”
“My other houses are equally full,” Wolford remarked, as if the matter were mere happenstance. He had been born into a fortune and never wanted for anything in his life. While that fact had once irked Jack when they were schoolmates, the truth was that Wolford wasn’t arrogant about it. He’d never once been a prig, flaunting his possessions. Moreover, neither Wolford, Thayne, nor Vale had labeled Jack a bastard and dismissed him, like most of the others had done.
“There are many elite who would enjoy a tour of your houses,” Thayne continued. “I’m certain it would go a long way in improving your standing. Especially to those who disapprove of your hedonistic display of wealth.”
Jack scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, hiding a laugh. If this was Thayne’s method for transforming Wolford, Jack needn’t worry for Lilah’s sake.
Abruptly, he frowned, distracted. He wasn’t worried for Lilah Appleton. The outcome of her venture made no difference to him whatsoever. His being here was a means of satisfying a mere curiosity. Nothing more.
“And there is a salver piled high with invitations from those who thoroughly enjoy my hedonism, in every aspect. I am more of a mind to take pleasure in their company,” Wolford said with a familiar, wicked gleam. His reputation for extravagance encompassed more than a steady acquisition of objects. Rumors of the salacious parties he attended kept his name from being spoken too loudly by those in society.
Leaning back against his desk, Wolford crossed his arms over his chest and looked from Jack to Thayne. “Have you come to admire my latest acquisitions or merely to scold me, as my housekeeper does?”
When Wolford looked to him, Jack jerked a chin in Thayne’s direction. “I believe the marquess has something of a business proposition for you.”
“I . . . yes . I do.” Thayne shot Jack a look of warning before regarding Wolford once more. “I’ve recently acquired a new property, and I am in need of furnishings.”
“I heard all about it at Lady Reynolds’s party last evening. Your dealings with Lady Granworth have become infamous.”
Thayne coughed. “You’ve heard?”
“By now, I’m certain everyone in town is aware that you practically stole the Widow Granworth’s house right from under her nose.” Wolford tsked.
“Oh, that,” Thayne said on an exhale. “There was no thievery involved. I merely made a more handsome offer. I’m certain that is something you both can understand.”
“There is nothing wrong with being a man of action, but I’ve never procured an object on which another person has laid claim,” Wolford added, clearly to antagonize their friend. “Have you,
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