Invitation by Burke, Darcy (book club reads txt) 📗

importantly—do something with your life.” He put his elbows on the desk and steepled his hands. “You should have stood for the Commons last autumn.”

That had been a massive battle that had resulted in Lucien not speaking to his father until well into the new year. “It’s not enough that Con is already a member? Besides, I’d only been home from Spain a month.”

“Closer to two, but let’s not quibble. You would have been elected easily.” Any gentleman with money was elected easily because he could afford the bribes necessary to win. For that reason alone, Lucien wasn’t interested.

He rose again, checking his watch fob. “I must be off.” He turned to Con and inclined his head. “Felicitations to you and Lady Sabrina. When is the wedding?”

“Early June.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” As he walked nearer to his brother, Lucien added in a near whisper, “And I hope you will too.”

Lucien lifted his hand toward the duke. “Afternoon, Father. Thank you, as always, for your counsel.”

“One more thing,” the duke said sharply, halting Lucien’s departure. “I’ve given up my private chamber at Brooks’s. I see no need for it since I rarely ever visit.”

Though Lucien couldn’t see his father’s face, the derision in his tone was blatantly evident. Barely pivoting, Lucien glanced back toward him. “I go there nearly every night. Surely you know that.”

“Do you?” Though the duke sounded as though he had no idea, Lucien knew better.

There would be no point in trying to persuade him to keep it, nor would Lucien lower himself to ask. This was a minor punishment for not falling into line. No matter, Lucien would find a cozy alcove to meet with his friends. Or maybe he’d do something else entirely. Hell, his mistress was leaving him, and now his gathering place had been stripped away too.

Without another word, Lucien stalked from the study. Before he reached the entrance hall, Con caught up to him.

“Would it kill you to improve your behavior?”

Lucien reluctantly slowed as his brother came abreast of him. “Would it kill you to relax a bit and enjoy life?”

Con brushed at something on his sleeve. “Just because we do not share the same…passions doesn’t mean I do not enjoy life.”

Lucien stopped and turned to face his brother, folding his arms over his chest. “Passions?” He waggled his brows. “Dare I hope you’ve developed a tendre for your bride? Perhaps you haven’t repressed everything.”

“Must you debase every conversation?”

“Well, I don’t, but I could.” Lucien grinned, then uncrossed his arms, letting them drop to his sides. “My apologies, brother. I should not taunt you. You make it too easy. But that does not mean you’re inviting me to torment you.”

Con’s eyes darkened. “You’ve skirted the issue, Luci.” Only his siblings called him by the nickname. “Please, give a thought to your reputation—your standing, if not your family.”

“Are you honestly concerned my behavior will cause you to suffer?”

“No, but think of our sister.”

Lucien glanced toward the entrance hall, where he’d seen Cassandra earlier. “Is there a problem?”

“Well…no. But how would we know if there were?”

Rolling his eyes, Lucien turned toward the foyer. “She’s not even out, for heaven’s sake. Stop trying to stir trouble where there is none. You are becoming more like Father every day.”

Con clenched his jaw. “If you kept your…activities more private and didn’t flaunt your dissipation, it would be far more tolerable. Can’t you find something worthwhile to do?”

“Worthwhile is subjective, Constantine,” Lucien said softly but with a touch of heat.

He took his leave and drove back to his small bachelor house on King Street near St. James Square. Con’s marriage would invite more meddling from their father, as evidenced today. The duke hadn’t only not persuaded Lucien to remedy his behavior, he’d rather done the opposite. Lucien was more encouraged than ever to carouse and debauch, particularly since he was suddenly in the market for a new mistress.

Frowning as he turned toward Piccadilly, he thought of Mirabelle. He’d hoped she would change her mind or that she hadn’t actually been serious. But of course she had been. Furthermore, she’d sent him a note that morning indicating she’d found lodgings and would be moving in a few days. Lucien wanted to ask where, to ensure she would be safe and comfortable, but it wasn’t his place to ask. She’d been clear about leaving her profession and claiming her independence.

He also knew she didn’t have another trade to fall back on.

Frustration drove him back to his conversation with his brother. Intolerable? Was that how Con saw him? Of all the judgmental, pompous…

But wasn’t that also how Lucien saw his brother? The duke had done an excellent job of pitting them against each other. At least that was how it seemed to Lucien. Or perhaps it was just that they were that different, that being the heir and being the spare created a rift.

Lucien shook out his shoulders before he grew too tense. His father, and by extension his brother, didn’t like the company he kept—either his friends or his women. Nor did they like that he preferred Brooks’s to White’s or supported liberal ideas such as election reform. It was apparently blasphemous to think all men, and even women, should be able to vote and that anyone should be able to run for office.

Worse than blasphemous, it was intolerable.

Lucien turned his thoughts to Tobias, who, like Mirabelle’s sister, was also suffering from Society’s nastiness. During his morning ride on Rotten Row, Lucien had overheard several gentlemen discussing Bentley’s victory with the apparently popular Lady Priscilla. They didn’t seem to realize, or care, that Tobias’s heart had been broken.

Lucien cared. Just as he cared for Mirabelle and what she was going to do. His brother’s words rose in his mind: Can’t you find something worthwhile to do?

In fact, he rather thought he might be able to do just that.

Chapter 4

Lady Priscilla was the only reason Tobias had come to the Oxley ball. He clung to the shadows as much as