Free Invitation to Ruin by Bronwen Evans Page A

in, Thompson.” He wondered what his good friend, Rufus Knight, wanted.
    Anthony rarely saw his old school chum. Rufus had been his best friend since Anthony’s first day at Eton. Richard had attended Eton from a young age, while Anthony’s father tutored—if that’s what you could call it—him at home. When Anthony turned sixteen, his father relented, and Anthony accompanied his twin brother back to school.
    Most of the boys thought Anthony extremely odd and paid him very little attention. Except for Rufus.
    Anthony to this day did not know what Rufus saw in him. Rufus had pestered him until Anthony finally accepted the slight shadow, as he called Rufus. He followed Anthony everywhere. At sixteen, Rufus was small next to Anthony’s hulking frame. Perhaps it was the protection Anthony provided Rufus with that made him so loyal. For whatever reason Rufus had picked him to be his friend, Anthony was grateful.
    Rufus strode into the room, an irritated scowl hanging from his auburn brows. A troubled look darkened his golden-brown eyes, startling within a face conveying a dark tan, which indicated his life of outdoor pursuits, and setting him apart from the rest of the nobility.
    Anthony rose to shake hands with Rufus, who before his time at Eton had finished matched him in height and build.
    “Rufus, this is a pleasant distraction.” Rufus kept much to himself. As did Anthony—one of the things they had in common.”My ships have not arrived in port yet. Or could you not wait for Thursday night’s entertainments?”
    Rufus gave a bark of laughter. “I am most eager, as you put it, to visit Madame Sabine’s. I hear she has two new demimondes just for us, but I’m afraid I’m here on business.”
    Anthony sank back down on his chair. “I don’t like the sound of that.” Rufus worked for the Foreign Secretary, in what capacity Anthony was unsure and he knew better than to pry into government business. “Quincy, leave us please.”
    Quincy bolted out of his seat. “Quincy, a moment.” Anthony looked at the clock on the mantel. “Inform Monty I need the grays harnessed and ready by quarter to four. Thank you.” Deliberately, he added, “I am taking Miss Goodly for a turn in the park.”
    Rufus’s jaw dropped.
    Anthony laughed. “I have some news of my own, and believe me, you will need a drink.”
    “I go away for a few weeks, only to return and find you escorting women in the park.” He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I should go away more often.”
    Rufus often disappeared for weeks at a time on government business. The last time Anthony had met with Rufus, the man informed him that some English merchants were risking life and limb to slip through the Royal Navy blockade. The new Anti-Slave Trading Act made the gamble highly profitable for those who succeeded in breaking the law. “I’ve a feeling that your business here will require a drink anyway. Brandy or whiskey?”
    “Whiskey,” Rufus said, his sun-bronzed hand tugging the last riding glove off. “You? Taking a woman riding in the park?”
    He tossed his friend a grin and moved to pour them both a drink, waiting for Quincy to close the door behind him.
    “Don’t tell me.” Rufus claimed a seat on the other side of a large mahogany desk. “Your mother’s match-making again.”
    “Worse than that I am afraid.” He handed Rufus the glass of whiskey, then gulped his own shot straight down. Hissingthe heat out of his throat, he turned to pour himself another. “You owe me congratulations. As of this morning, Miss Goodly is my fiancée.”
    “Miss who?” Rufus scowled at him and shoved his unruly auburn hair out of his square face. “I’ve never heard of her. What is going on here? Why are you marrying?”
    “Why, indeed?”
    Rufus took a sip of his drink, and his mouth curved up in amusement. “I find I am quite pleased you are and that you have given up this nonsense about not spawning future Tony Cravens.”
    Anthony rolled his eyes.