Mortimer’s gaze flicked to his head. “Your hair seems—”
“Be careful now,” Warrick cut him off while meeting his gaze. “Or I’ll be meeting you at dawn.”
“Still itching for the duel that was taken from you?’
He even knew that much. “That’s right.”
Mortimer chuckled. “I only meant to say I’ve never seen a head of hair as disheveled as yours.” A small pause. “You said your biggest flaw was your receding hairline. It’s not. Your hairline is just fine.”
Warrick brushed lightly over the strands of his hair and grunted.
“If you don’t believe me,” Mortimer went on, “look at the hairlines of most of the men at events. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll be sure to have a look next time.”
Mortimer shrugged. “In my humble and perhaps unwelcome opinion, your biggest flaw is that you allow the people you care for to treat you as a sheep when your true nature is that of a wolf.”
“A wolf you say...” Warrick took a big swallow of beer and almost spat it out at the duke’s next claim.
“You are searching for a secret women’s club.”
Warrick set down his glass with a thump. “How the hell did you know that? Wait, you know about that group as well?”
The duke nodded, tapping his finger on the table. “I gathered that was why Lady Selena showed interest in this particular establishment. They weren’t hiding their interest either.”
“Don’t tell meyouare searching for the club as well?” What an unbelievable and terrifying prospect.
“I am a man of many interests.”
“Most men are.” A brief silence followed where the two men stared at each other. Warrick took another swallow of beer. “Lady Selena wants to join the club.”
“I surmised as much.”
Warrick’s gaze swept over the interior of the tavern and settled on the sword hanging above the bar. “My instinct tells me they are trouble. And not the good kind.” Was there even a good kind?
Yes.
Her mischief.
“Your instinct would be right,” Mortimer informed him. “There is nothing good about them.”
This was not the response Warrick was hoping for. For once, he wished he was wrong, that his instinct was just an excuse to hold onto a rope he should long ago have released. The last thing he needed was a real reason to return to her side, because he knew he would cross the line again. And she would cross it along with him. There was no denying it anymore—he was a bad influence on her. He indulged her and brought her over the line with him. He was too soft when it came to Selena Savage.
He cursed. “How the hell do I get her to give up this madness?”
“I’m sorry,” Mortimer said. “I don’t have the answers you are looking for. I’m no good with ladies.”
Warrick glanced over to the duke’s stiff posture. He could believe that. He sighed. “I just want her to be happy.”
“That, I can understand.” Mortimer’s face turned thoughtful. “I suppose I ought to take your advice.”
“About?” He couldn’t recall that he ever imparted advice.
“Asking for the book. Explain my reasoning. Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
Ah, yes, he did say that. He didn’t give a farthing about the book or the duke’s reason for wanting it. “I wish you all the luck.”
“Aren’t you going to warn me off talking to Lady Selena?”
