Page 14 of The Best Marquess

“Indeed. Just follow the hallway until you find the campsite. Thank you, my lord.”

Not doing so well turned out to be rather an understatement. Poor Gabriel looked dreadful; his face drawn and black hair disheveled, jacket and waistcoat discarded, and shoes kicked away. A tea tray sat to one side that obviously hadn’t been touched.

Finn coughed in advance so he didn’t startle his friend. “Morning.”

The colonel-turned-duke looked up, his eyes brightening. “Finlay! Forgive the mess.”

“Don’t even think on it. Permission to approach the campsite?”

“Permission granted. Must say, this is unexpected but…very welcome. Does make sense, though. You and Pippa don’t like…being apart. Take a seat…if you dare.”

“That bad?”

Gabriel rubbed a weary hand across his jaw. “You don’t want to know.”

“I’m afraid I already do,” said Finn, sinking onto the chaise next to his friend. “Pippa shared with me all the gut-churning details from the books she read. I confirmed the information with…er, someone I know who has a toddler. If it were my wife in the chamber, I would behave exactly as you are. Except look far worse. Also, I’d probably be surrounded by broken furniture or about a thousand intricate sketches; mindless destruction or ant-like productivity, I honestly don’t know which way I’d lean.”

The duke stared at him for the longest moment. “I’ve heard terrible cries,” he said eventually, his voice turning hoarse. “And Lili wrote a letter. To the babe. In the event she…you know.”

“Christ.”

“I understand it’s sensible. And loving. But…”

“The letter’s existence is utterly destroying you at the same time,” said Finn gravely. “Because she is so central to your happiness you can’t imagine a world without her in it.”

Gabriel tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful. “Ah. I had my suspicions…but it seems I’m…not the only one here…madly in love with a Nash.”

Well. What did he say to that? Nobody knew his true feelings for Pippa, not even the lady herself. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Especially after the duke had bared his own soul in this hallway, maddeningly close to their ladies and yet prevented from seeing them by thick walls and a sturdy piece of oak.

Finn cleared his throat. “Just to clarify, not your Nash.”

“I assumed that,” said the duke, smiling faintly. “But while I took…the three-day path to Utopia…you’ve marched how long?”

“Sixteen years. I mean…I was eight when I first decided Pippa was the heroine of my story. But lately there has been significant progress in my quest.”

“Oh?”

“This is classified information, but we are getting pretend betrothed to foil the nefarious plots of Lady Kingsford and my father.”

“Pretend betrothed?” Gabriel let out a low whistle and leaned back against the chaise. “While I am forever in favor…of defeating that dragon…do you have any idea…what you are doing?”

“Not really,” Finn said glumly. “But I am open to suggestions.”

“Have you talked to Pippa?”

“We talk most days.”

“No, I mean really talked. About how you feel. Your deepest secrets. That changed things…between Lili and me. Well, that and scrubbing out…the rot her damned grandmother planted…about certain topics.”

Finn’s cheeks heated. “I think I can guess the topic. Lilian warned Pippa against getting the talk from the dowager, and Pippa snorted and said she’d read enough textbooks and explicit romance novels to feel sufficiently educated.”

“Bloody hell,” said Gabriel. “They really do share everything.”

“Now they do. Because Lilian is happy and free to be herself, away from the evil villain’s clutches…er…”

“Evil villain’s clutches is…factually correct. That is why your pretend betrothal…must work. I take it the dowager…has a husband in mind for Pippa?”

Finn’s lip curled. “The Duke of Devonshire. But he isn’t a passive player, apparently he and his family are most amenable to this particular plot.”