Duke Looks Like a Groomsman - Valerie Bowman Page 0,2

vote until the autumn session, I have more time to rally the support I need. I might as well get about the business of looking for a wife in earnest.”

“I never bother to vote in Parliament,” Rhys replied. “Don’t happen to care for the hours. And all the arguing is downright exhausting.”

Bell gave him a beleaguered look and shook his head. “God forbid you take an interest in your seat or any of the issues the country is dealing with.”

Rhys gave them his most charming grin. “I’m entirely confident you chaps can handle it,” he replied, clapping Bell on the back.

“When the time comes for the vote for my brother’s bill,” Kendall continued, addressing his remarks to Rhys, “I’ll drive to your town house and drag you out of bed myself.”

Bell’s and Clayton’s laughter filled the alcove in which they were sitting. His friends knew Rhys disliked anything that involved his waking early in the morning.

I’d like to see you try. But Rhys decided to keep that particular thought to himself.

“Let’s not talk of such unpleasantness,” Rhys replied with a sigh. “You mentioned finding a bride, Kendall. That’s much more interesting. Now, how old are you again?” He shoved back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the earl.

Rhys knew as well as the rest of them that they were the same age save for a matter of months. He loved to pretend he’d forgotten how old they were. Age is a number without meaning. A line his father had often used.

Kendall arched his brow. “The same age you are, old man.”

“Well, then,” Rhys declared. “You’ve plenty of time to find a wife as far as I’m concerned.”

“That’s easy to say, coming from a man who’s never given a toss about securing his own title,” Kendall shot back, with a good-natured grin.

Rhys returned the smile with a devilish one of his own. “I cannot argue with you there.” He turned and gave the barmaid his even more charming smile, the one he saved exclusively for women, as he ordered another round of ale for the table.

“Yes, well, if you’re seriously looking for a wife, Kendall, the Season has just ended,” Clayton interjected. “It seems you’ve missed your chance. The entire ton is about to retire to the country as soon as Parliament closes next week.”

“I’m well aware,” Kendall replied with a curt nod. “The Season makes my skin crawl. Full of simpering maids and purse-eyeing mamas eager to show off their best behavior in the hopes of snaring a rich husband. I don’t want to find a wife that way.”

“How else do you intend to find one?” Bell’s eyes were narrowed. The marquess was up to something, Rhys could tell.

“I don’t know how exactly.” Kendall took another drink. “But this time I intend to find a lady who loves me for myself.”

There it was. Kendall’s only allowance to the Lady Emily debacle. Well, at least he’d learned his lesson. Rhys, of course, had no idea how one would go about finding a woman who ‘loves me for myself.’ It sounded quite impossible to him, but at least it was the correct attitude. Thank Christ his friend was finally seeing reason.

“Yes!” Rhys pounded his fist against the table, his voice filling with anger. “I think we can all agree that Lady Emily is the lowest of the low. There’s no excuse for what she did, tossing over one man for another with a better title. As far as I’m concerned, she no longer exists.”

“Can we not discuss Lady Emily, please?” Kendall groaned and covered his face with one hand.

The barmaid reappeared with the drinks and Rhys’s smile reappeared too. “Keep ‘em coming, Love,” he said to her, before turning back to Kendall and adding, “I’m merely pointing out that if you want a lady who loves you for yourself, the Season and its ridiculousness are the last place you should go.”

“Yes,” Kendall replied with a sigh, lifting his mug into the air to salute Rhys. “Didn’t I already say that? The Season and its fetes are the last place I should go, which is why I’ve avoided it like the pox for the last two Seasons.”

“Oh, is that why you haven’t attended the boring balls at Almack’s?” Rhys replied with a smirk. “I thought it was the tepid tea and small talk. That’s why I steer clear of them.”

“You avoid them because they don’t serve brandy and we all know it,” Bell pointed out,