His hand tightened on the railing. With a grimace, he forced himself to turn around. “Westcliff. Southwick. Eastwynd.”
What the devil are they all doing here? The Compass of the Rose has not convened for years. We’ve outgrown such childish notions, and they have no reason to be gathered here?—
“What are you standing there for?” Julian Ashcombe strutted over to him with his ever-charming smirk. “Do join us for a game. We won’t say no.”
Behind him stood Sebastian, large and looming over his cue stick with a wry smile. Then, there was Ronan, who leaned against the wall casually.
“Eastwynd will be forced to drag you back if you make a run for it,” Julian whispered theatrically with a wink.
Sebastian shrugged. Most likely, he would do it. He looked large enough to wrestle five men to the ground in a heartbeat.
Realizing that he didn’t know what his friends were up to these days, Tristan supposed he could spend some time with them. The natural apprehension was beginning to melt away. They were all friends, weren’t they?
“You look as cheerful as ever,” Sebastian noted, while Ronan offered him a stick to join the game. “Still enjoying the solitude of Scotland?”
“I was,” Tristan muttered.
Ronan tilted his head thoughtfully, glancing around at their friends before turning back to him. “I must admit, we’re all very surprised to see you in town. Have you finally decided to attend the Season? Will we see you at the balls, the parties, the salons?”
“You speak as though I used to enjoy the Season.”
“It’s a waste of time,” Sebastian agreed as he started off another round.
He managed to score several points at once. Smirking, he moved across the room to take a drink.
Julian nudged Tristan to take a turn. So Tristan leaned over the table, lined up his stick, and narrowed his eyes. As he prepared his shot, Ronan settled across the room to watch him.
“I can’t imagine that many reasons have brought you here to the club. It’s a miracle that we’re all here, in truth,” Ronan added with a frank expression.
But it was, of course, Tristan who intrigued them. For some reason, his peculiar manners always intrigued them.
“Well? What brought you here?” Ronan asked.
Tristan took his shot. “One point,” he muttered under his breath while straightening up.
“It’s more like who herded him here?” Julian quipped, before grinning. “You might not have seen the papers, lads. Our dear Northcott has found himself a new wife.”
Sebastian spat out his drink right next to Ronan, who jumped back and glared at him, before turning back to gape at Tristan. He, in turn, glared at Julian.
“What?” Julian chortled. “As though they wouldn’t have found out sooner or later. Can you believe I kept this a secret? I was waiting until this evening over port. But here we are. If you won’tsay a word here, then I shall. What an injustice you do to the institution of marriage.”
“Then why don’t you get married?” Tristan shot back.
Shaking his head, Julian said, “Because I’m not the type. You’re the one who enjoys quiet morning rides, afternoon strolls, and peaceful meals. If anyone among the Compass of the Rose was meant for marriage, dear man, it was you.”
“You do well with children,” Ronan added.
The two of them had gone to Julian’s for the winter season in their last year of university and had been overrun by their friend’s countless cousins.
I forgot about that. We spent a day ice skating, and they wouldn’t stop pestering me with questions about ice and freezing all manner of items and creatures. It was exhausting. But I suppose I didn’t scold them. Still, I have no intentions of having any children. That is not the type of marriage Verity agreed on.
Sebastian tossed a handkerchief at Ronan before giving Tristan a curious look. “You had a rough go with the first one. Mayhap this one will be better, yes?”
“No. I mean, yes. It’s only…” Tristan exhaled loudly. “It’s complicated. I was protecting her honor.”
“What a gentleman you are. A saint!”
It was times like these when he wanted to throttle Julian. Sometimes it was hard to understand why they were friends. But they’d been thick as thieves in university. Tristan had concentrated on his studies, but it often led him to more complicated topics and arguments with his professors, who were always wrong. Julian used to smooth things over, and he also had a knack for finding anything Tristan wanted—books, rare plants, and more.
