Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

He was quiet for so long she looked up at him, his face tight and tense. “Your own way?”

“Men aren’t the only creatures capable of it.”

“I’m sure they’re not. And if you can do it, good for you. I don’t seem able to.” Then he stepped back. “I’ll meet you at the kitchen door at four. Best not to sleep at all and change into something more serviceable.”

Chapter Four

Dylan was a fool.

There was no other explanation. He should have stuck by his principles and not allowed Eliza to attend.

But she’d looked so…desperate and at the same time…determined.

And he knew she’d find a way. At least with him in attendance he could keep her safe.

Still, he should have told Bash and then perhaps he and Bash could go in her place.

He shook his head. She’d hate him if he did it.

But, then again, she’d be safe. And she’d stay far away from him. Which was how it should be. He had another woman to court. And as he stood there with Eliza, one thing had become clear. When he was with her, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

He sighed as Eliza hurried back to her family. He didn’t bother to enter the ballroom again.

Instead, he made his way outside.

Once in his carriage, he didn’t go home but rathe

r he made his way to the Duke of Devonhall’s home.

If Bash hadn’t attended the party with his new bride that meant he was likely having a quiet evening at home. Dylan was sure to be interrupting.

Though matrimony had never been a goal of Dylan’s, he had to confess that Bash seemed happier than he’d ever seen his friend.

He rolled his neck. Bash was sure to be bored stiff within a year.

Then again, the Carrington sisters had a way of keeping life interesting. Look at Dylan. Here he was in the middle of the night, about to bust in on a friend all because of Eliza.

When he arrived, he made his way to the front door and raised the knocker.

The butler opened the door immediately. Clearly, he was waiting for the sisters to return.

“I need to speak with His Grace. It’s urgent.”

The butler nodded and disappeared, but it took nearly a quarter hour for Bash to appear, and when he did the only word that might describe his normally impeccably groomed friend was…disheveled.

His hair looked as though someone had been running her fingers through it a great deal and his clothes had the rumpled look of having been in a pile on the floor.

Menace grinned despite himself. “Fun night?”

“It was until I was interrupted.”

“Sorry.” Menace grinned wider. “But Eliza is barreling toward trouble and I thought you should know.”

“Eliza? Did you mean Miss Carrington?” Bash pushed out through gritted teeth.

“When discussing trouble, that would be rather nonspecific. There are several Miss Carringtons who currently reside here.” Menace chuckled, not the least bit concerned over his friend’s ire.

Bash snapped up straighter, combing his hands through his messy locks. “What kind of trouble?”