The Footman and I - Valerie Bowman Page 0,1

brother. If it was the last thing he did, he would ensure the Employment Bill passed.

Lucas would take a bullet for any one of his friends. He’d give his life for his country. He would walk across broken glass for his mother or sister. But finding a wife who would be true to him, who didn’t want him merely for his money or his title, that was something he couldn’t control. And he detested that fact.

Lucas glanced around at his three friends, who watched him as if he’d recently escaped from Bedlam. The rules of etiquette were different here at the Curious Goat Inn. The pub sat like a fat little duck on the corner of two streets in an area of London that was a goodly length from Mayfair, but not quite as far, status-wise, as the Rookeries. Here one could do things like get foxed, wipe the back of one’s hand across one’s lips, and say things like one was looking for a wife, without having to worry about mamas and maidens popping out of every nook and cranny in search of a husband with a title. Ever since he’d inherited the title, he’d been beset by such ladies at every turn.

“I’m entirely serious,” Lucas continued. “I must look to secure the earldom. I fear I’ve been too preoccupied with the Employment Bill. I’ve been remiss waiting this long to find a bride.”

“I certainly won’t disagree with you that you’ve been too preoccupied with the Employment Bill,” Worth drawled. “Obsessed is more like it.”

Lucas shrugged. “Well, now that the Lords have tabled the vote until the autumn session, I have more time to rally the votes I need. I might as well get about the business of looking for a wife in earnest.”

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

Bell gave Worth 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.”

Worth gave them his most charming grin, flashing his perfect smile that had been the downfall of many unsuspecting women. “I’m entirely confident you chaps can handle it,” Worth replied, clapping Bell on the back.

“When the time comes for the vote for my brother’s law,” Lucas continued, addressing his remarks to Worth, “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.

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

Lucas arched a skeptical brow at Worth. “The same age you are, old man.” After Eton, they’d all gone on to Oxford. They’d all taken their firsts together. They all were the same age save for a matter of months.

“Well, then,” Worth 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,” Lucas shot back, giving his friend a good-natured grin.

Worth returned the smile. “I cannot argue with you there.” He turned and gave the barmaid his even more charming smile, the one that brought out the dimple in his cheek, as he ordered another round of ale for the table.

“Yes, well, if you’re seriously looking for a wife, Lucas, 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,” Lucas 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?” The marquess’s intelligent eyes turned shrewd.

“I don’t know how exactly.” He took another drink, growing more confident with each sip. “But this time I intend to find a lady who loves me for myself.”

He was talking about Lady Emily Foswell, of course. He never mentioned her name, but his friends knew what he’d been through. No amount of swaggering or denial on his part would convince them that he hadn’t had his damn