“He is right to be angry,” Deerhurst pointed out. “What the devil possessed you to kiss his sister?”
“I am aware,” Warrick bit out. “But it’s not like I committed a grave sin.”
“You are, however, still meeting him for a duel.”
“He issued the challenge. He must retract it.” He was going to do exactly what Saville was doing—stubbornly point a pistol at one of his closest friends—in the hope that friend wouldn’t pull the trigger.
It wasn’t that Warrick couldn’t understand his friend’s anger. If he had a sister, he would do no differently. Well, the brawl in his chamber was too much, but he’d probably also call for pistols at dawn if a man who confessed to kissing his sister refused to take responsibility. But this wasn’t about responsibility.
This was about Selena.
About what she wanted.
He hadn’t wanted her to know about the duel with her brother. There was no hiding it, however. Saville would have confined her by now—lock and key—and with that big mouth of his, he would have bellowed all his misgivings, cursed Warrick’s ancestors, and declared his stance.
“Forgive me for asking, but do you have feelings for Selena?”
Feelings for Selena? Selena Savage?
“You did kiss her.” Deerhurst crossed one leg over the other. “There must be some sort of attraction.”
“When has attraction been a reason enough to marry?” Men get lost over attraction, but they didn’t marry because of it.
“Some men would argue it’s better than marrying with no attraction at all.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was a mere impulse on my part.”
Deerhurst’s arched brow accused him of lies. “Two times the impulse?”
More than that, an impulse that hadn’t waned. “Is that so hard to believe? How many times did you kiss your wife before you offered marriage?”
Deerhurst coughed into his hand. “This is not about me. And I did marry her in the end.”
“Good for you.”
“Does Selena not return the sentiment then?”
He didn’t know what she returned or didn’t return, but shehadbeen bothered, just like him. “I haven’t asked her.”
“Then answer me this, do you still feel guilty because of the list?”
Warrick ignored him, but his heart felt the jab.
“It’s fine to feel guilty. It’s not fine to let it ruin your life.”
Warrick placed the pistol back into the case. “It’s not ruining my life.”
“So youdostill feel guilt.”
“Wouldn’t you?” he countered.
“I feel the things I need to feel and then I let them go, especially if what I feel does not serve me or my family. There is no point in losing hair over something that has passed.”
Warrick lifted a warning gaze to his friend. “Leave my damn hair out of this.”
“Fine. There is no point in losing sleep over past matters,” Deerhurst amended with a smile.
“I sleep like a log. Dead to the world.”
