Blake wanted to kick the man. “What else? She marries him.”
“And then?”
His jaw clenched. “I return to my home.”
“You mean your dreary castle in a moat?”
“The very one,” he bit out.
Bishop scoffed. “You’ve got it all mapped out, haven’t you?”
Not all. As plans went, this was more of an outline, but in essence, this was what he had agreed to do.
“You do realize that all the best plans go awry. To start with, Baston is here in London, too.”
Blake hadn’t forgotten about that wretched creature. Which reminded him, “Any word on the viscount?”
“Not yet.”
Damn it. He had still been holding out hope that they could retrieve the lord and dispatch Baston without influencing LadyRosilee’s future, without her having to get married. Hope was a damnable thing.
Bishop crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you really plan to marry the woman of your dreams off to another man?”
“Who says she is the woman of my dreams?” She was. But why did it sound so grating coming from this man?
“You don’t dream about her?” Bishop asked. “Aren’t there hundreds of journals in your study with sketches of her as a child?”
“There aren’t hundreds.”
“But there are journals,” Bishop said. “Just marry her. You’d solve all your problems and hers.”
“I wouldn’t be solving anything. I’d only be adding to her troubles.” His dukedom was a monster after all. And so was he.
“You and this beastly title of yours. You do know that it doesn’t make you a beast.”
“The title is part of me as I am part of it. What the one is, so is the other.”
Bishop gave a dramatic sigh. “Nobles, I shall never understand your attachment to the unattachable.”
That was unfair. It wasn’t that he wanted to be attached, after all. If he could rid himself of his noose, he would. But he couldn’t. The Crown didn’t just take back the titles the lords didn’t want. If that were the case, he’d have given it back the moment he inherited it.
“Excuse me,” a man said, stopping by their table, staring at Blake intensely. “Are you the Duke of Crane?”
Blake glanced over at the man and nodded. “I am.”
“Well, I never!” the man exclaimed. “Forgive me for intruding. I am John Stone, Marquess of Southby. I was quite shocked when I overheard the Duke of Crane had graced White’s.”
Yes, well... “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I would love to join you for a drink, but unfortunately, I have another engagement.”
Also, I didn’t invite you for one.
“This might be a bit bold,” the marquess continued, “but my wife and I are hosting a ball the day after tomorrow, and I hope you shall make an appearance.”
Blake wanted to smirk at Bishop.See?He inclined his head at the marquess. “Of course.”
“Then I shall look forward to seeing you again soon,” the man said with a grin, excusing himself.
