Page 41 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Lord Weber approached through the tables to halt by theirs. ‘Ralston. Adler.’

‘Weber,’ Ralston replied curtly.

‘Were you two talking politics with the new Duke of Huntington?’ Weber asked.

Ralston raised his cup. ‘Just sharing a cup of coffee. And you? Are you here to meet a mill-house owner or two?’

Weber’s smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Your weakness is showing, Ralston. Your bill is nothing but sentimental drivel, and you know it.’

Ralston wanted to argue with the man but he knew better than to show emotion or to lash out. That was precisely what Weber wanted. No, the bill meant too much to Ralston and he wouldn’t appear as if he had no control over himself. He eyed his opponent, and chuckled. ‘Why do you hate children, Weber?’

‘I don’t hate them,’ Weber said tersely, ‘I believe they should work.’

Ralston leaned forward. Weber, like himself, came from a world of privilege. The difference was Weber refused to acknowledge it or to use his influence to do any good. ‘Work or labor until they die young? There’s a difference between employment and losing a hand or being crushed in weaving machinery before their ninth birthday.’

Weber scoffed. ‘You always were too easy on the purse, especially when it’s the Crown’s.’

Ralston’s tone sharpened. ‘The Crown’s? Aren’t the mill owners padding your purse to vote against the bill?’ Ralston would not take hush money from the mills, whereas Weber welcomed it.

‘I relish your demise on the debate floor, Ralston,’ Weber said.

‘I relish your expression when my bill comes to pass,’ Ralston said.

Weber turned on his heel and joined a table of other men in the corner of the room.

Adler exhaled and whistled between his teeth. ‘Why argue with the man? You’ll never change his vote.’

Ralston scrubbed a hand down his face. Despite his resolve not to engage with Weber, his control had slipped a notch. ‘He agitates me.’

‘He wanted to agitate you.’ Adler set down his cup. ‘You have to keep a level head for your upcoming debate.’

Ralston let out a long sigh. ‘You’re right.’ He knew his friend spoke the truth, and Ralston had intended to keep his emotions guarded. But there was something about Adler that got under his skin.

‘Go home to your wife,’ Adler advised. ‘Spend time together and enjoy being a newlywed couple.’

At the mention of his wife, a different type of frustration rose within his gut. He didn’t want to go into detail with his friend. He was still navigating his own relationship with Nora and giving her time to adjust to marriage. He would never bang on her door and demand his rights. He wouldn’t even use a master key. He wanted her to want him.

Their shared kiss was fresh in his mind. She’d been excited about the microscope and happy when he’d shown her the designated room for her work. She’d hugged him out of gratitude and how had he responded? Like a starved man and kissed her. She’d been soft, enticing, and passionately responsive. What had happened to his restraint?

He had little when it came to his wife. He’d never forget her look of wonder when he’d gifted her a simple, empty chamber. When she’d looked up at him, he’d sworn he’d seen longing in the green depths of her eyes. Her face had been flushed with happiness. He wondered again at her not having that support earlier in her life. He relished his ability to give it to her now. He wanted to make her happy, wanted to have her kiss him again with eager passion.

What the hell was wrong with him? What about his vowed restraint? A fierce longing after a fervent kiss resulting from gratitude was not how he would achieve a marriage of convenience.

Adler gave him the knowing look of a long-time friend. ‘You’re thinking of Margaret, aren’t you?’

Once more, his agitation arose at the mention of his past. It was a prickly subject, and he’d shoved it behind him. ‘Don’t be an idiot. I haven’t thought of Margaret in a long time.’

‘Not Margaret in general, but the damage she did. You don’t want to risk your heart.’

His friend had hit a nerve. It was true. He would never risk heartbreak again. Trust was not easily earned, and love was for fools. Rather than argue with his friend, he went on the offense. ‘You’re one to talk. You’ve had a string of mistresses and balk at the mention of love.’

‘Precisely. Listen to me.’ Adler pointed to his chest. ‘You can forgot the past and focus on the future. It will help you think clearly when it does come time to debate.’

Once again, he vividly recalled Nora flinging herself into his arms. His friend was wrong. Nora was a distraction that he couldn’t afford. His bill and the upcoming debate had been the focus of his attention long before she’d entered his life. Their arrangement had not changed. He’d best remember that fact.

Nora lifted the brass knocker on the Picadilly townhouse door. She no longer had the key to her childhood home and waited anxiously for the butler, housekeeper, or another staff member to appear. Just as she reached for the knocker a second time, the door opened.

‘Miss Nora!’ A tall, thin butler with greying hair and age spots on his hands stood in the doorway. He gave her a sheepish smile. ‘My apologies, Lady Ralston.’