Chapter Eight
Malice sat at the breakfast table of the Duke of Darlington, the Earl of Exmouth and the Viscount of Viceroy in attendance as well.
Not only did these men co-own the club, they were more like family than his own had ever been.
“I don’t like that McKenzie fellow. That I can say for certain.” He clenched his fork.
Vice, as they fondly liked to refer to the viscount, quirked a brow, his normally fair face looking rather mischievous. “You’re not going to stab me with that utensil if I tell you the truth, are you?”
He narrowed his gaze. “I make no promises.”
Exile cleared his throat, his powerful fist lightly banging the table. “There will be no stabbing.”
Vice pushed his chair back, balancing on two legs. “The truth is that you’re good-old-fashioned jealous of the man.” He gave him an angelic smile.
Darlington chuckled. “Jealousy is one emotion I can tolerate in this situation. It might prompt you to see reason.”
Malice opened his mouth to tell Darlington to go to hell, but Vice answered first, the legs of his chair landing on the plush carpet with a decided thump. “You’ve gone bloody mad, Daring. Jealousy is the opposite of what Malice should be feeling. The man needs to remember this is a marriage of convenience. Now, if a mate tries to bed her after your wedding and then stick you with raising the pup, that’s a whole different problem. But she’s only one woman in a sea of choices. If McKenzie wants her then—”
Malice slammed his fist, still holding the fork, onto the table. He’d had enough of that sort of talk. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to take Exile out first just so that he can’t stop me from killing you.”
“If you scratch my table, you’re replacing it,” Darlington added, his voice even and light. “And I had the wood shipped from the Americas so it won’t be cheap.”
Exile chuckled, “Take me out. You’ve gone mad if you think you’re big enough.”
Malice drew in a deep breath. “McKenzie isn’t laying a hand on her now or in the future. I don’t like him one bit and I just have a feeling that he’d bring Cordelia nothing but misery.”
“I’m inclined to agree.” Exile nodded as he scooped up a large bite of eggs. “The man is in gambling debt up to his eyeballs. Owes half the clubs in town. He’s likely looking for a bride to bail him out of his troubles.”
Malice sucked in a breath. Of course he was. He’d only asked Cordelia to dance after Diana had refused. The man wanted to wed the first purse that accepted him. “We have to stop him before he convinces Cordelia that he’s a proper candidate for her hand.”
“Are we stopping you too?” Daring asked leaning forward on his elbows. “You only want her to wed to make an heir and then shove her into the country. How is your offer any better than his?”
Damn Daring and his reason. His gut clenched. “I was honest, at least. I gave her the opportunity to refuse me on fair ground.” If McKenzie realized how much Cordelia wished for romance than he might use that information to manipulate her into a match.
Somehow, he managed to squeeze the fork even tighter as he pushed the plate away. “You understand.” He rubbed his neck, looking at each of the men. “She’s been passed over as men have courted her sisters. It only takes one man to realize she wants to feel special and he’ll be able to completely take advantage of her. By the time she realizes, it will be too late.”
His words were met with silence.
Finally, Vice broke it. “If you ask me, it’s already too late.”
“It is not,” he fired back, straightening. “We can protect her from making a mistake and ruining her future.”
“I’m not talking about her.” Vice crossed his arms. “I’m referring to you. It’s too late for you, you’ve gone and developed feelings.” He gave a shiver. “Christ, Jack made that joke at the club. Do you remember it? Careful, o
r you’ll all catch feelings. Like it was a disease. Well it bloody may very well be contagious.”
“Stop being ridiculous.” Malice’s own heart began thumping loudly in his chest. “I don’t develop feelings. I can’t. I swear my heart is so scarred that it couldn’t feel if I tried.”
“Dear God.” Vice stood, his lip curling. “Are you talking about her healing your broken heart? This is bloody worse than I thought.”
Daring gave a snort and then a laugh. “I think it’s fantastic.”
“I haven’t caught feelings,” he choked, rising as well. “I won’t listen to this anymore.” Then he stormed from the room and headed for the front door. Cordelia’s calling hours would start soon. He’d be there from the start to the finish. If his friends wouldn’t help him, then he’d fend off McKenzie himself.
“Malice, wait.” Exile called. “I’ll go with you.”
Excellent. Exile was bloody good in a fight. Just the bloke he needed.