Thomas took a seat, letting the warmth of the club wash over him. It was good to be among friends, to relax, and forget about the responsibilities of being a duke for a little while.
As he ordered a brandy, he heard a voice behind him. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Duke of Everness. I hear congratulations are in order."
Thomas turned to see Viscount Henry Chapin, a man he had never much cared for. Chapin had a reputation for needling people, and Thomas was sure he was about to be the next target.
"I have heard rumors that you're engaged, Thomas," Chapin continued, a smirk on his face. "Who is the lucky lady?"
Thomas frowned, knowing that Chapin was trying to get a rise out of him. "I am courting a young lady," he replied, trying to keep his tone neutral.
Chapin raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you would have learned from your mother's scandalous affair. Be careful about the company you keep."
The comment hit Thomas where it hurt, and he felt his anger rising. He couldn't react, though. He had to think of his political career and the consequences that would come with losing his temper in public. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "That's enough, Chapin," he said through gritted teeth. "I won't tolerate that kind of talk."
Chapin shrugged, a smug look on his face. "Just trying to give you some friendly advice, Thomas. You never know who might be listening."
Thomas gave Chapin a tight smile, wanting nothing more than to punch the man in the face. Instead, he turned away, grabbing his brandy and heading to a quiet corner of the club, his mind awhirl with thoughts of the future.
"If you'll excuse me, I believe I see some friends who require my attention." With that, Thomas turned and made his way across the room, leaving Chapin behind. He was looking forward to spending the evening surrounded by good company and pleasant conversation, and he was determined to not let Chapin ruin it for him.
As he approached a table in the corner, Thomas saw Lord Finn, one of his closest allies in the House of Lords. Finn was deep in conversation with a group of gentlemen, but as soon as he saw Thomas, he motioned for him to join them. "Thomas, my boy, come sit with us," Finn said, patting the empty chair next to him. "We were just discussing the speeches from today's session at the House of Lords."
Thomas took his seat, grateful for the distraction. He had always appreciated Finn's no-nonsense approach to politics, and he valued his opinion. "Have you been working on your speech before the final vote on your reform bill?" Finn asked, his shrewd eyes fixed on Thomas.
"Yes, I have," Thomas replied, taking a sip of his brandy. "But I am still drafting. I want to make sure it's the best it can be." Finn nodded, a small smile on his face. "Wise decision, my boy. This bill is important, not just for you but for the people it will help. Make sure you give it your all when you stand up to speak."
Thomas listened intently as Finn continued to offer words of wisdom. He was grateful for the older man's support, and he knew he could always count on him to be there for him. As they talked, Thomas felt his mind clear and his nerves settle. Thomas was prepared to tackle any obstacles that may come his way, buoyed by the assurance of having the backing of his companions and supporters.
Chapter Twelve
As Thomas alighted from his carriage, he took a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air fill his lungs. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the street, and a chill was in the air. He looked up at his grand home and sighed, ready to retire for the night after a long day at the House of Lords.
But then, he saw it. A carriage he was all too familiar with was parked in front of his home. The knot of dread formed in his stomach as he recognized the crest of Baron Jameson, and suspected its passenger was his former mistress, Poppy, who seemed to want nothing more than to make his life difficult. He wondered why she was there, and he could already feel the headache that was sure to come from having to deal with her.
Poppy stepped out of her carriage and hurried across the flagstones to where he stood. "Thomas, darling," she purred. "Aren't you going to ask me inside?" She lay a gloved hand on his arm, and he felt himself flinch.
"I am tired, Poppy, and I do not have time for your games this evening. Now, why are you here?" Thomas knew he should not provoke Poppy, but exhaustion filled his bones, and he wanted nothing more than to go inside and relax with a brandy by the fire.
Poppy's bottom lip poked out and her eyes glittered dangerously in the moonlight. "Is that any way to speak to me, Thomas, after all we have meant to each other? I simply came to apologize for my abhorrent behavior the other night. I was wretched to that chit of a girl you were dancing with, and I wanted to say that I am sorry. Who is she, by the way?"
Thomas knew that the way forward was fraught with danger. If he did not tell Poppy about Rose, she would make it her mission to discover Rose's identity and leave destruction in her path. Yet, if he told her about his engagement to Rose, even though it was a sham, Poppy would do what she could to break them apart.
Thomas sighed, feeling the weight of his dilemma. "Poppy, now is not the time. I have much on my mind and I simply do not have the energy to deal with you right now." He stepped away from her touch and moved toward his front door.
"Please, Thomas, can't we talk for just a moment?" Poppy implored, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
Thomas hesitated, looking back at her. "Very well, Poppy. Let us talk."
Poppy started to walk up the steps to his front door, but he reached out his hand and stopped her. "No. Any discussion you wish to have can take place here."
Poppy's eyes glittered dangerously and for a moment, Thomas imagined that she was a leopard ready to pounce on him and devour him in one bite. "Fine." She looked down at her hands. "I have heard rumors that you are to be married and I simply wished to know if they are true."
"Yes, Poppy," Thomas said, a sense of resignation in his voice. "Lady Rose and I are to be married."
Poppy's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "So soon after we... ended things?"
Thomas knew that Poppy was not going to let this go easily. He steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation. "Yes, Poppy. Our engagement is a recent development, but I assure you, it is a genuine one."
Poppy's gaze was piercing as she studied him. "I see," she said slowly. "And yet, there is something different about you, Thomas. Something that tells me that this engagement is not quite as it seems."
