His brother lifted his own tankard. “I do believe it would be worth it to see you so put out. You know, it is not the worst of things to be labeled an eligible bachelor, Nick. I can attest to the fact that marriage is not the prison I once believed it to be. It is quite enjoyable, I find.”
Nick leaned back in his chair. “Callie’s turned you soft, Gabriel. Do you not recall the pain caused by clamoring mamas and cloying daughters, all hoping to secure your attention? ”
“Not remotely.”
“That is because Callie was the only woman willing to have you with your history of wickedness and vice,” Nick pointed out. “My reputation is rather less tarnished than yours was—I am a far more valuable catch, Lord help me.”
“Marriage might do you well, you know.”
Nick considered his ale long enough for his companions to think that he might not reply. “I think we all know that marriage is not for me.”
Gabriel offered a small, noncommittal grunt. “I might remind you that the same was true for me. Not all women are like the cold bitch who saw you nearly killed, Nick,” Gabriel said firmly.
“She was merely one of a long line of them,” Nick pointed out, drinking deep. “Thank you, but I have learned to keep my women to the best of encounters—brief and unemotional.”
“I wouldn’t brag about brevity if I were you, St. John,” Rock said, flashing a wide grin at Gabriel before he continued. “Your problem is not the women who choose you, but those whom you choose. If you were not so easily wiled by those who play the victim, you might have better luck with the fairer sex.”
Rock had not said anything Nick did not already know. Since his youth, he’d had a soft spot for women in need. And while he understood it to be one of his biggest weaknesses—having brought more trouble than fortune upon him in his lifetime—he seemed unable to resist the trait.
So he kept his women at arm’s length. His rules were clear. No mistresses. No regular assignations. And, most definitely, no wife.
“Well, either way,” Gabriel said, returning lightness to the conversation, “I shall enjoy myself immensely while you run the gauntlet of this impressive superlative.”
Nick paused, drinking deep before finally leaning back and placing his hands flat on the table. “I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you. I do not plan to run the gauntlet at all.”
“Oh? How do you expect to avoid the women of London? They are huntresses of the highest caliber.”
“They cannot hunt if their prey has gone to ground,” Nick announced.
“You are leaving? “ Gabriel did not look pleased. “To where? ”
Nick shrugged. “I have clearly overstayed London’s welcome. The Continent. The Orient. The Americas. Rock? You’ve been itching for an adventure for months. Where would you like to go? ”
Rock considered the options. “Not the Orient. A repeat of the last time we were there is not tempting. I would rather steer clear of it.”
“Fair enough,” Nick conceded. “The Americas, then.”
Gabriel shook his head. “You would be gone for a year at least. Have you forgotten that we have a sister just out and in need of a match? You will not leave me to deal with that sure-to-be-disastrous event simply because you fear the attention of a handful of ladies.”
“A handful!” Nick protested, “They are a swarm.” He paused, considering his options. “I don’t really care where I go … as long as there are no women there.”
Rock looked alarmed. “None whatsoever? ”
Nick laughed for the first time that evening. “Well, not none, obviously. But would it be too much to ask that there be no women who have read that ridiculous magazine? ”
Gabriel raised a dark brow. “Very likely so.”
“St. John.”
All three gentlemen turned at the sound of Nick’s name to find the Duke of Leighton beside the table. Tall and broad, if Leighton hadn’t been a duke, the man would have made an excellent Viking—fair-haired and stone-faced, he rarely smiled. But today, Nick noted that the duke seemed even more stoic than usual.
“Leighton! Join us.” Nick used one foot to capture a nearby seat and drag it to the table. “Save me from these two.”
“I’m afraid I cannot stay.” The duke’s words were clipped. “I came looking for you.”
“You and the female population of London,” Gabriel said with a laugh.
The duke ignored him, folding his giant frame into the seat and setting his gloves on the scarred wooden table. Turning to face Nick, nearly blocking Rock and Gabriel from the conversation, he said, “I’m afraid that you are not going to like what it is I have to ask of you.”
Nick waved the barmaid over with a tumbler of whisky, keenly aware of the distress in his friend’s gaze.
“Does it involve marrying him off?” Gabriel asked dryly.
Leighton looked surprised. “No.”
“Then I would think that Nick would welcome your request.”
The duke took a large gulp of whisky and met Nick’s interest. “I’m not so sure. You see, I am not here for Nick. I am here for the bulan.”
There was a long silence as the words sank in around the table. Rock and Gabriel stiffened, but did not speak, watching Nick carefully. Nick leaned forward, placed his forearms on the scarred wood, and tented his fingers. He spoke quietly, his eyes not leaving Leighton.
“I do not do that any longer.”
“I know. And I would not ask if I did not need you.”