Good Dukes Wear Black Read Free Page A

Grayson,” she said in a too-loud voice that she knew sounded silly but hoped would seep into his drink-addled brain. “I must remind you not to speak about Maggie’s position with The Ladies’ Gazette in public. She’s asked you again and again. You must respect her wishes. Unless you wish to ruin her.”
    Grayson made a rude noise in the back of his throat. “Secret,” he muttered. “On’y secret I know of is Carrington’s lecher … ism. Should call the bastard out for it.”
    As if realizing what a brilliant idea that was, he attempted to stand. But Trent was there with a staying hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Not just now, old fellow. Carrington isn’t here. And besides, you promised you’d give me your advice about that bay mare I’m thinking of buying.”
    Even as he held his friend back from rising, Trent glared at Ophelia and jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Why don’t we have a drink and we’ll talk,” he told Grayson.
    Despite Trent’s very obvious desire for her to leave the room, Ophelia pressed on. “I must have your word, Mr. Grayson, that you will stop making a spectacle of your wife. Her position with the Ladies’ Gazette is sensitive and should not be talked about so openly in public.”
    â€œWhat’s so dashed important about hiding Mrs. Grayson’s involvement with the newspaper?” Trent demanded in a low voice that Grayson wouldn’t hear. “It’s not as if she’s writing screeds against the government or scandalous stories. If I recall correctly, her column deals with social niceties. It’s hardly the sort of thing to cause scandal.”
    â€œIt isn’t,” she explained patiently, “but there is still the fact that by calling attention to Maggie’s role with the newspaper, and what’s worse, accusing her of infidelity with poor Mr. Carrington, it becomes a threat to everyone at the paper.”
    A look of disappointment flashed across Trent’s face. “So it’s really your own reputation you’re hoping to save,” he said with a scowl. “I might have known.”
    â€œIt’s important to me,” she said, holding her head high, not daring to let him see how much his derision stung. “And I won’t apologize for trying to protect both mine and Maggie’s positions. No one else will do so.”
    Their heated discussion was interrupted then by a loud snore. Looking up, Ophelia saw that George Grayson had leaned back in his chair and, his mouth hanging open, was snoring loudly.
    â€œIt would seem you’ve been on a fool’s errand, Miss Dauntry,” Trent told her with a barely suppressed grin. “You’ll simply have to wait until another time.”
    Her hands on her hips, Ophelia scowled at both men. “I should have known this would be pointless. Maggie has tried and tried to convince him that her work for the paper is perfectly innocent, but he refuses to believe her. And he’ll doubtless be waking up tomorrow with no recollection of tonight’s contretemps. Typical.”
    â€œI think perhaps if you understood just what it is that drives Grayson to drink so deeply,” Trent said pointedly, “then you would have a bit more compassion for the man. He’s had a difficult time of it since the war.”
    â€œSo have you,” she retorted, “but I don’t see you shouting at your wife in ballrooms and accusing an innocent man of debauchery.”
    â€œIf I had a wife,” he said, not giving an inch, “I might. Until you’ve walked a mile in another man’s shoes you can have no idea of what presses him to behave as he does.”
    Ophelia sighed. She’d heard other such excuses for the bad behavior of both former soldiers and errant husbands, but there was no denying the fact that they were responsible for their own bad