Free False Angel by Edith Layton Page B

the marquess attempted to make a recover, his friend brushed his protestations aside and went on, “I know, and you are right, Joss, but for whatever it’s worth, I also don’t know a decent fellow in the land who wouldn’t want you for his son-in-law, even so. In fact, if my eldest girl were a month more than thirteen years of age as we speak, I’d be marching down the aisle with her to meet you at this moment.”
    “So if I won’t have you as a father, you’re set on becoming my father-in-law?” The marquess smiled, before he went on earnestly, “But I did avoid the girl, Jason, and then, when I couldn’t ignore her for civility’s sake, I tried to be discreet for kindness’s sake, and she skewered me. I cannot imagine why. Then again, there’s a great deal about her that puzzles me, for she wasn’t a madcap at first, you know. I remarked her when she first came to Town and she was docile as a dove then. The wildness was a thing which grew upon her.”
    “Then I think, my lad, you’ll just have to study her more closely, as you would any other wild thing, and so get to know her a deal better. I don’t believe her attitude will influence Talwin one way or another, if that’s what’s troubling you,” the duke said slowly, “but I don’t think that it is. She’s very beautiful,” he said off-handedly.
    “And it’s decidedly not that,” Joscelin said, laughing, “for the world is full of beautiful women who do not have fathers I go in awe of. It preoccupies me so because,” he said, as though thinking aloud, his hard, handsome face growing very still, “I have always hated enigmas.”
    “How very odd!”, the duke exclaimed, his low voice filled with amazement, “for I thought I knew you very well, Joss, and I believed you always loved a mystery.”
    The two gentlemen said a lengthy good-bye on the street in front of the club. They were much remarked upon as they stood and joked and reminded each other of when they next should meet. It was not odd that this should be so, on either count. Even though the duke was all impatience to join his duchess again, since he seldom could like being gone from her for too long, and even though the marquess had a delightful afternoon arranged for himself, since he had no present obligations and felt he deserved a treat, the two gentlemen liked each other very well and were often loath to break from such congenial companionship. And since their appearances were almost as sensational as their reputations, it was only natural that bystanders should often ogle them and whisper “birds of a feather” when they were seen together.
    But then, the duke mused as his companion at last took his leave, his young friend hadn’t needed to expend so much effort as he had in his past in order to earn his bad repute. He had not needed to bed half so many shocking creatures, he had only to wed the one, and then leave her, by decree of divorce. For that simply was not done. Not by a gentleman.
    It was a pity it was so, the duke thought as he finally strolled off to his townhouse. Though he was not in actuality of an age to have been Severne’s father, he felt that same sort of protective concern for him. Not because the lad was incapable of looking after himself, but because it seemed so wrong that he was deemed an outcast by correct society. There was a legion of gentlemen who practiced far more despicable acts who were welcomed into the highest reaches of the ton because they indulged themselves in secret, thus socially acceptable fashion. The fact that young Joss could not woo or wed where a gentleman who, say, habitually sought the reluctant embraces of underage servants might, was damnable.
    But then, thought the duke, his face brightening, even as his pace quickened as he hurried homeward, it was never necessary to wed some social lioness in order to be blissfully happy. Then too, he thought, so amused at himself that he chuckled low in his throat, only an old hopelessly