destined to be in the midst of intrigue. “No. Not at all. I had a meeting. I didn’t realize you were in town. How is Brianna?”
Colton’s blue eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t fooled at all, but he said readily, “Fine. The doctors assure me the pregnancy is healthy and normal.”
“She looks quite as beautiful as ever to me.”
“She has some moments when her stomach is unsettled, but if it is like it was with Frederick, it will pass soon. I make sure the basin is handy in the mornings.”
The idea of the very austere Duke of Rolthven assisting someone as they tossed up their breakfast was comical enough Damien had to fight a grin. But the whiskey was smooth and of the best quality and he savored thenext sip before he commented. “I’m not sure I am envious of that part of the process of fathering a child.”
“Are you envious of any of it?” Colton asked bluntly, his mouth quirking. They resembled each other with the same chestnut hair and Northfield features, but his older brother was definitely more serious, though his marriage had wrought a miraculous change in many ways. He was devoted to his beautiful wife and adored his young son and he smiled now more often. His ducal duties were still important, but no longer the focus of his life.
The change was a welcome one, but Damien found his once self-absorbed brother’s recent interest in
his
life and future an irritant. Why was it all married men found a sudden urge to spread the state of matrimony to all single males of their acquaintance like it was a contagious disease?
“I believe I’d enjoy the actual conception,” he said dryly. “But I have no obligation as you did to marry and sire an heir for the sake of name and title. There are some advantages to being a younger son. If at some point I meet a woman who captures my interest and keeps it long enough for me to consider a permanent arrangement,
then
I will worry about the less-than-desirable scenario of having to keep a basin on hand for those tricky moments.”
“Brianna has said to me more than once that it is far better to be the one holding it than the one using it.” Colton refilled his glass, at ease in his chair, long legs extended.
“A valid point,” Damien agreed with a laugh. Brianna was a refreshingly candid person. “There are some advantages to being a male.”
“And some disadvantages also, such as the privilege of going to war. I’m assuming the drawn look is because of your leg.”
He should have known Colton wouldn’t let the subject go so easily.
“It hurts now and again.” Damien affected a shrug. He was crippled to an extent, but the minor inconvenience and discomfort was a reminder he was lucky to be alive—lucky to still have his leg at all, and he refused to dwell on it other than as a symbol of triumph rather than misery. His family’s concern was touching, but really, unnecessary. There was a far more intriguing topic than his leg. “I’m out of touch with society. Tell me, what do you know of the Bourne family?”
Colton was not exactly attuned to the latest gossip and he had never cared for it in the first place, but by necessity he spent a lot of time in London and men talked every bit as much as women. Though it did no young lady’s reputation any favors to be found locked in a room with a gentleman who was not her husband, it seemed to Damien—and he’d been thinking about it quite a lot—that Lady Lillian’s reaction to the situation had been a bit extreme. There was also the reference to society not considering her innocent. With her beauty she should have been married off several years ago, and he admitted to some curiosity over what had happened.
He was also having some difficulty putting out of his mind how she looked clad only in flimsy linen trimmed with lace, her slender arms bare, the top curves of her creamy breasts exposed, her dainty calves and ankles visible.… He’d done his best to conceal his purely male reaction and
Colton’s blue eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t fooled at all, but he said readily, “Fine. The doctors assure me the pregnancy is healthy and normal.”
“She looks quite as beautiful as ever to me.”
“She has some moments when her stomach is unsettled, but if it is like it was with Frederick, it will pass soon. I make sure the basin is handy in the mornings.”
The idea of the very austere Duke of Rolthven assisting someone as they tossed up their breakfast was comical enough Damien had to fight a grin. But the whiskey was smooth and of the best quality and he savored thenext sip before he commented. “I’m not sure I am envious of that part of the process of fathering a child.”
“Are you envious of any of it?” Colton asked bluntly, his mouth quirking. They resembled each other with the same chestnut hair and Northfield features, but his older brother was definitely more serious, though his marriage had wrought a miraculous change in many ways. He was devoted to his beautiful wife and adored his young son and he smiled now more often. His ducal duties were still important, but no longer the focus of his life.
The change was a welcome one, but Damien found his once self-absorbed brother’s recent interest in
his
life and future an irritant. Why was it all married men found a sudden urge to spread the state of matrimony to all single males of their acquaintance like it was a contagious disease?
“I believe I’d enjoy the actual conception,” he said dryly. “But I have no obligation as you did to marry and sire an heir for the sake of name and title. There are some advantages to being a younger son. If at some point I meet a woman who captures my interest and keeps it long enough for me to consider a permanent arrangement,
then
I will worry about the less-than-desirable scenario of having to keep a basin on hand for those tricky moments.”
“Brianna has said to me more than once that it is far better to be the one holding it than the one using it.” Colton refilled his glass, at ease in his chair, long legs extended.
“A valid point,” Damien agreed with a laugh. Brianna was a refreshingly candid person. “There are some advantages to being a male.”
“And some disadvantages also, such as the privilege of going to war. I’m assuming the drawn look is because of your leg.”
He should have known Colton wouldn’t let the subject go so easily.
“It hurts now and again.” Damien affected a shrug. He was crippled to an extent, but the minor inconvenience and discomfort was a reminder he was lucky to be alive—lucky to still have his leg at all, and he refused to dwell on it other than as a symbol of triumph rather than misery. His family’s concern was touching, but really, unnecessary. There was a far more intriguing topic than his leg. “I’m out of touch with society. Tell me, what do you know of the Bourne family?”
Colton was not exactly attuned to the latest gossip and he had never cared for it in the first place, but by necessity he spent a lot of time in London and men talked every bit as much as women. Though it did no young lady’s reputation any favors to be found locked in a room with a gentleman who was not her husband, it seemed to Damien—and he’d been thinking about it quite a lot—that Lady Lillian’s reaction to the situation had been a bit extreme. There was also the reference to society not considering her innocent. With her beauty she should have been married off several years ago, and he admitted to some curiosity over what had happened.
He was also having some difficulty putting out of his mind how she looked clad only in flimsy linen trimmed with lace, her slender arms bare, the top curves of her creamy breasts exposed, her dainty calves and ankles visible.… He’d done his best to conceal his purely male reaction and
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