At the end of the meal, Derek and Malcolm went to the den so the ladies could have time to talk alone.
“Would you like some brandy?” Malcolm asked as he went over to the decanter.
“Yes, thank you.”
Derek sat in one of the chairs and glanced around the room. He didn’t know much about Malcolm, except that he didn’t dare do anything to upset the Ton. But as he examined the books lining the shelves, it occurred to him Malcolm placed a high importance on the acquisition of wealth.
The other items in the room were all neat and organized. The papers on his desk were in a neat stack, and the ledger had been closed with a ribbon to mark his place. Never in his life did Derek see anyone so meticulous. Even Malcolm’s hair and clothes were immaculate. Indeed, he resembled a statue more than an actual human being.
After Malcolm poured brandy into their glasses, he came over to Derek and held one of the glasses out to him. “Congratulations on getting into White’s.”
Surprised, Derek accepted the glass. “Thank you,” he said. Malcolm didn’t strike him as the type of gentleman who’d be particularly thrilled to have him in the club. “No one was more shocked than I to hear the news.”
Malcolm sat across from him and crossed his legs. “You didn’t expect to get in?”
“No. I assumed no one except for a very few would have the courage to be seen with me. My past isn’t exactly the kind of thing gentlemen brag about.”
“Well, your wife seems to be happy with you.”
“Danette is braver than other ladies. I guarantee you no one else would have agreed to the match.”
Malcolm chuckled. “If you made it into White’s, you can’t be that bad.”
“That depends on who you talk to.”
Derek took a sip of the brandy, and he had to admit the rumors about Mr. Jasper serving the best brandy weren’t exaggerated. The meal had been just as delicious. Much as his attire and his home, everything he did was with the desire to be the best. Derek had to hand it to him. At least he knew what he wanted and went for it.
After a moment of awkward silence passed between them, Derek said, “I hope I don’t damage your reputation by being here.”
“My brother-in-law is Lord Toplyn,” Malcolm replied. “If he hasn’t damaged it by now, then you have nothing to worry about.” He took a sip of his brandy. “Do you know Lord Toplyn?”
“No, I haven’t even heard of him. I keep to myself most of the time. That is, when I’m not tending to the sick.”
“Lord Toplyn became my brother-in-law by kissing my sister at a ball. Granted, we were outside by the carriage, but it was enough to secure a marriage with her.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad. I’ve heard of gentlemen who did worse to secure a marriage. Had he been banned from any balls?”
“No, unfortunately.”
“I have. I think Lord Edon and Mr. Robinson are the only gentlemen who invite me to their balls, and we both know what a rake Lord Edon is. If your brother-in-law is able to show his face at other gentlemen’s balls, then he’s more reputable than I am.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow and grinned, as if he suspected Derek was joking. “Are you trying to tell me I should make you leave my townhouse?”
“I figure your friends at White’s will think the only reason I’m here is because your wife insisted on it. I am her friend’s husband. I just don’t want you to go through the pretense of liking me. I understand you have to be pleasant to me while we’re in the ladies’ company, but you don’t have to do that when we’re alone.”
Malcolm’s smile faltered. “Is that what you think? That I’m only being nice to you because of my wife?”
“Will you deny the only reason you’re allowing me into your townhouse this evening is because of her?”
Malcolm shifted in his chair, a clear sign the conversation was making him uncomfortable.
Derek put his glass down and leaned forward. The sooner they got this out of the way, the better. “I’m not judging you. I don’t mind it if we’re pleasant to each other when we’re with our wives or when we’re at White’s. The one thing I don’t like is when someone says one thing and means another. I grew up with it, and I see it a lot with the Ton. I prefer honesty above all else.”
Malcolm waited for a moment before answering. “I admit I wasn’t all that excited to learn you were the gentleman Danette was marrying. Regan’s talked of little else but finally having Danette over for dinner parties. It wasn’t that we didn’t invite her before. She just didn’t have anyone to come here with, and she didn’t want to feel left out.”
“No one can blame her for that.”
“I agree. I wouldn’t want to go to a couple’s dinner party if I didn’t have a lady with me.” He paused then added, “I love Regan. I’d do anything for her. She asked me to give you a chance. Already, I can say you’re better than my brother-in-law. He does and says things for the sole purpose of annoying me.”
“Does he?”
“One time he was giving me tips on how to pleasure my wife right in front of everyone at White’s. It was so embarrassing. Some of the gentlemen at White’s think I’m awful in bed because of it.”
Malcolm grimaced, and Derek had to force back the urge to laugh. Not that it was a laughing matter. Really, it wasn’t. No gentleman wanted to be thought of as being inadequate in bed. But considering how perfect Malcolm was in appearance, it was startling to see him portray a sincerely human emotion. He no longer seemed like a statue.
“Perhaps,” Derek began, “your brother-in-law tries to annoy you because you respond to him.”
Malcolm frowned. “How do you mean?”
“Well, if the grimace you just gave me is similar to how you react when he does these things, then it’s possible your brother-in-law finds you amusing.”
“You think he’d stop doing those things if I ignored him?”
Derek shrugged. “I’d try it and see what happens. I could be wrong, but what have you got to lose by trying a new tactic?”
Malcolm studied the brandy in his glass for a moment and then nodded. “You make a good point. I’ll try it.”
Since there was nothing else to say on that topic, Derek opted for, “Well, if your friends ask why you let someone of my reputation into your home, you won’t hurt my feelings if you tell them you only did it to please your wife.” He rose to his feet. “Unlike other gentlemen, I’m not so fragile I can’t handle it when someone doesn’t like me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like you,” Malcolm argued, quickly standing up.
“I know you didn’t, but I’m aware our worlds don’t mix.” He glanced around the room once more. “You obviously have an excellent reputation and are proud of it. I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
“Did I say something to make you think I thought you would?”
Realizing Malcolm was sincere in the question, he assured him, “No, you didn’t. You’ve done everything you could to make me feel welcome.” Then, without waiting for Malcolm to say anything else, Derek added, “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go to the drawing room.”
Despite the look of uncertainty on his face, Malcolm nodded and led Derek to the drawing room.
***
“I told you everything would be fine,” Regan told Danette as they reclined in their chairs, sipping tea. “Our husbands got along wonderfully during the meal.”
“Yes, I think they did, too,” Danette admitted, though she truly hadn’t expected them to. The two had seemed to have an easy enough time talking during the meal. “Maybe it won’t be so awkward with the two belonging to the same gentleman’s club.”
“Both you and Malcolm have a tendency to worry too much. I had to remind him it was perfectly fine to have Derek over for a dinner party. You’re my dearest friend. There was no way even Warren could find fault with it.”
Danette lowered her cup to her lap. “Was Malcolm worried Warren wouldn’t approve you of having Derek h
ere?”
“Malcolm worries over every little thing that might upset the insufferable earl. Honestly, I don’t know what’s so wonderful about him. His opinion isn’t as important as either of them believes.”
Danette knew she shouldn’t let what others thought about Derek bother her. But no matter how hard she tried to hold back the question, it came out anyway. “What is Warren’s opinion of Derek?”
“Lord Steinbeck has the same opinion of him that he does for most of the people he meets. It has no bearing on Derek. Warren is the rudest and most conceited gentleman in all of London.” Shaking her head, her friend continued, “I shouldn’t even refer to him as a gentleman. Doing so only pays him too much respect.”
It was on the tip of Danette’s tongue to press her to answer her question rather than avoid it, but at that moment, Derek and Malcolm came into the room.
Regan frowned and turned to their husbands. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Derek said as he sat in a chair next to Danette. “I missed my wife and wished to return to her. Your husband has been a gracious host, Regan.”
Danette glanced at Malcolm, and if she was right, he appeared somewhat bewildered, though it seemed he was struggling to hide it. Her gaze went back to Derek. Did they have a good conversation? By the smile on his face, she gathered they had. But then, if they had enjoyed talking, why did they feel it necessary to join her and Regan so soon?
“I’m not much into sitting around and talking,” Derek continued. “I’d rather be doing something. Does anyone feel like joining me in a game?”
Since the settee was the only place left to sit, Malcolm sat there. “I don’t mind a game. What kind did you have in mind? I take it chess is out of the question since there are more than two players.”
Regan got up from her chair and settled beside him. “We could play charades.”
“I don’t know,” Derek said.
“You don’t like the game?” Danette asked.
Derek shook his head. “It’s not that. I love the game. It’s just that I have my own interpretation of certain notable people, and it’s likely to upset some in this room.”
Though he didn’t come out and mention Malcolm by name, Danette wondered if he was referring directly to him. Regan would have no trouble making fun of some of the elite members of the Ton.
“We could make up rhymes,” Regan suggested.
“Yes, I suppose that would be safe enough,” Malcolm said.
Danette bit her lower lip. Was it her imagination or did Malcolm’s voice sound strained?
“Rhymes would be fine,” Derek replied. “Danette, why don’t you start?”
“Don’t we need a list?” Danette asked.
“We could do this without a list,” Derek said. “Why don’t you come up with a sentence, and Regan can rhyme it? Then Malcolm will do the next one, and I’ll rhyme what he says.”
“That sounds like a lot more fun than using a sentence already written out,” Regan agreed. “Go on, Danette. Come up with a sentence.”
Danette straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat. “All right, but I’m not very clever at this kind of thing.”
“I doubt that,” Derek told her with a smile that made her believe she was capable of anything. “You have a great sense of humor.”
She doubted she could come up with anything funny, but since everyone was waiting for her to start the game, she ventured, “I once read a book about a swan.”
“That was so boring, I had to yawn,” Regan filled in.
She looked expectantly at Malcolm, who thought for a moment then said, “Despite trying to trudge through it, I fell asleep until dawn.”
“And when I woke up, I had no clothes on,” Derek blurted out.
Regan burst out laughing, and Derek shot Malcolm and Danette an apologetic smile.
“It was the first thing that came to mind,” Derek said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Regan replied. “That was a good one. I enjoyed it immensely. It was funny. Danette, you want to start the next one, or shall I?”
The butler came into the room, followed by Malcolm’s mother who was holding four-year-old Leonard in her arms. The boy groaned.
Though both Regan and Malcolm got up, it was Regan who rushed over to him. “Is Leonard sick?”
“He has a stomachache,” Malcolm’s mother said. She turned her attention to Malcolm. “It’s our fault. Your father and I let him have too much dessert.” She gave Leonard to Regan, and he settled in his mother’s arms. “We knew we should have stopped after he had four gingerbread cakes.”
“How many did you let him eat?” Malcolm asked.
His mother winced. “I think ten.”
Malcolm’s eyes grew wide. “Ten? After he ate dinner?”
His mother shrugged. “He insisted he wasn’t full, and he was so adorable.” She glanced at Regan, her eyes pleading with Regan to understand. “When Malcolm was a child, he looked at me with the same woeful expression, and I couldn’t say no to him either. I’m weak when it comes to children.”
“Father had no trouble telling me no,” Malcolm said.
“He’s gotten soft in his old age,” she replied. “He didn’t have the heart to say no to Leonard any more than I did. I’m sorry, Regan. I didn’t mean to give him an upset stomach. I would have kept him overnight as planned, but he kept asking for you.”
“It’s all right,” Regan assured Malcolm’s mother. “Leonard has a hard time understanding that when he’s full, he needs to stop.”
“Well, I feel terrible about it,” his mother said, wringing her hands. “I’m old enough to know when to say no to a child.”
“There’s no need to fret,” Derek interrupted as he went over to them.
Even as he spoke the comforting words, Leonard groaned in a way that indicated he didn’t believe him.
Derek chuckled and patted the boy’s head. “I assure you, a simple upset stomach is easy to mend. You’ll see soon enough.” He turned to Regan. “Is there any peppermint or ginger in this place?”
“We have peppermint tea,” Regan replied.
Curious, Danette rose from her chair and approached them but kept her distance so she wouldn’t get in their way. She hadn’t seen her husband performing his job before. Already, she was intrigued to see the sudden change in him. He’d gone from being laidback to being serious almost immediately.
“Good,” Derek told Regan. “Have the butler bring half a cup. Not hot. Just warm.” With a glance at Malcolm, he added, “We don’t want to burn the poor lad’s tongue.”
With a nod, Regan had Leonard lie down on the settee and then hurried out of the room.
“Is it all right if he removes his shirt?” Derek asked Malcolm. “Sometimes if a person gets too hot, it only makes them feel sicker. I find cooling someone off helps their stomachs settle faster.”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Malcolm replied.
“Maybe we should also bring in a cool damp cloth to place over his head,” Derek added as he removed the lad’s shirt. “It might speed up the process.” He urged Leonard to lie back down. “Is that any better?” he asked Leonard.
“No,” Leonard muttered.
Derek fanned the lad with his hand. “Any better, or is it the same?”
After a moment, the boy said, “A little better.”
“Is there a fan around here?” Derek asked Malcolm.
“I have one,” Malcolm’s mother spoke up. She moved closer to Leonard, opened the fan, which had been clipped to the side of her belt, and began fanning him. With a pointed look at Malcolm, she playfully admonished, “And you think purchasing extra fans is a waste of money.”
Noting Malcolm’s sigh as she proceeded to fan the boy, Danette inwardly chuckled. Regan had told her he couldn’t understand a lady’s insistence on shopping all the time on frivolous items like gloves and fans when they already had enough of them. Well, maybe this would prove having a spare or two o
f an item wasn’t a waste.
Regan returned to the drawing room with a small cup. “I have the tea.”
“Thank you.” Derek took the cup and propped Leonard’s head on a pillow. “Only a sip,” he told the boy. “Any more than that, and things will get worse. Understand?”
The boy nodded and took a sip.
“Good,” Derek said, his tone soothing. “That’s the right amount to take each time your mother offers you a drink.” He turned to Regan and handed the cup back to her. “I think he’ll be fine in twenty minutes. If he falls asleep, just carry him up to bed.”
“Is it really that simple?” Malcolm’s mother asked.
“Yes,” Derek replied. “Most people want to roll onto their stomachs or sit through it, but I find this technique is the quickest way to get through it.” He glanced at Leonard. “Are you any better?”
Leonard nodded, and Malcolm’s mother breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Derek gave her a reassuring smile. “Grandparents have a natural tendency to spoil their grandchildren in all matters, especially food. You’d be surprised how often I’m called in for these things.”
“Really?” Malcolm’s mother asked.
“Really.” Then he turned back to Leonard and gasped. “Well, I can see you’re telling the truth, Leonard. Look at this.” He reached behind the boy’s ear and produced a coin. “This is proof you’re getting better.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide, and he took the coin. “How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do it. You did. I suspect when you are back to your old self, you’ll have a lot more of them. Making money is a sure sign your health is improving. When you wake up in the morning, you might find a pile of them beside yourself in bed, and then you’ll know you’re all better.”
At that, the boy smiled as he turned his gaze to Malcolm. “Are you proud of me, Father? I’m making money.”
Malcolm returned his smile. “You don’t need to make money for me to be proud of you. I already am.”
Derek glanced at Danette. “I think we should leave. The lad will do better if there’s not a lot of activity around him.”
Her Devilish Marquess Page 12
