Lucian shrugged. He could hide his thoughts from most people, but not his closest friend, so he didn’t even try. “I want a son.”
“I thought you went to Cornwall to sniff out traitors.”
“I did.”
“But you were seduced into marriage, as rumor says?”
“Quite the contrary. I was the one who insisted we wed.”
“Well…” Dare returned his gaze to Brynn. “I can certainly understand why you would wish to claim her. There is something about her… A quality beyond beauty. It’s quite bewitching.”
It was a rare statement coming from a true connoisseur of women, Lucian knew. “She is unlike anyone I’ve ever known,” he said in a low voice. “Since meeting her, all I’ve done is think with my loins.”
“I would never have guessed it from the gossip. Word is you’ve been avoiding her, spending all your evenings at your club. This is the first time you’ve even been seen together in public. Rumor has it that yours is not a happy union.”
“That much is true. I essentially had to coerce Brynn to the altar, and she hasn’t forgiven me for it yet.” He felt his friend’s penetrating gaze. “But I can at least put the rumors to rest about my not wanting her.”
The marquess grimaced. “I hope you don’t mean to curtail your activities with the League? When Sin wed, he forgot all about his Hellfire companions, claiming he was stricken by the hopeless malady called love.”
Lucian nodded at the memory. Damien Sinclair, known as Lord Sin to the ton, had been one of their leading members before he fell hard for a beautiful widow who had acted as companion to his invalid sister.
“I’m afraid I’ve already begun to curtail my activities,” Lucian said.
“In the name of respectability?”
“Primarily. I owe it to my name and title to put my wilder days behind me.”
Dare gave a deep sigh that was only slightly exaggerated. “This is a dark day for libertines. We will miss you, Luce.”
Trying to shake off his somber mood, Lucian glanced pointedly at the other nobleman. “I needn’t warn you to keep away from my wife, do I, Dare?”
“Certainly not.” He flashed an amiable grin. “I would never poach on a friend’s private preserve. I have that much honor.”
Lucian nodded. Dare’s devil-may-care charm hid a surprising depth of intellect and feeling, though he seldom revealed it. And while he might not flinch at cuckolding an adversary, he would never betray a friend-Lucian would have wagered his life on it.
“Your wife seems to be quite the center of attention at the moment,” Dare mused aloud.
Lucian followed his gaze to find a knot of gentlemen gathered around Brynn. From the looks of it, they were publicly vying for her favors.
He felt himself stiffen. He couldn’t blame them for being entranced by her vibrant beauty, but it incensed him all the same. As did his inability to control his jealousy.
Just then the crowd suddenly parted, and Lucian realized an altercation had sprung up between two of the archers. Even from a distance, he could see Brynn was in the thick of it.
Frozen by incredulity, Lucian watched as the fight showed no signs of abating. One gentleman struck the other, then was felled to the ground with a reciprocal blow. When Brynn stepped between them, she was nearly bowled over-
Lucian felt a surge of fear that shook him from his stupor. Lunging into action, he sprinted across the lawn, intent on protecting her. When he reached the two combatants, he grasped the first one by the scruff of the neck and hauled him to his feet.
Hard on Lucian’s heels, his friend Dare took hold of the second brawler, while Raven began chiding both fighters in a fierce undertone.
“Stop this nonsense at once, both of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves, causing such a spectacle.”
“But I wanted to be the one to teach Lady Wycliff,” Lord Hogarth said plaintively, wincing in pain as Lucian’s choking hold tightened on his collar.
“She said I could have the honor,” Pickering muttered.
Brynn stood to one side now, looking shaken. When Lucian eyed her narrowly, her cheeks flushed with guilt and she turned away, refusing to meet his gaze.
Lucian felt a swell of anger. His first instinct was to pummel both young bucks with his fists for fighting over his wife. His second was outrage at Brynn herself for being the cause of their brawl.
When Hogarth began to cough, however, Lucian forced himself to release his grip.
Raven was still venting her fury on the hapless miscreants. Both gentlemen appeared chastened now, and both sported wounds: one a bloody lip, the other an eye that would doubtless turn black and blue.
When she fell silent, Dare spoke up, making light of the situation in an evident attempt to ease the tension. “Perhaps this might be the ideal time to return to the house for refreshment.”
“Yes,” Raven agreed, still fuming. “We have had quite enough entertainment for one afternoon.”
The crowd dispersed then, one of the gentlemen limping, the other carrying himself rigidly as if nursing a grudge.
Brynn would have followed, but Lucian caught her arm and said in a dangerous voice, “I thought I warned you about the need for propriety.”
She stiffened at his touch. “I was simply learning to shoot,” she replied, her chin lifting with a measure of defiance.
Lucian had to clamp down on his own anger. “If you care to shoot, I will be the one to teach you.”
“How curious. I suddenly find I have lost my appetite for archery.”
Pulling her arm from his grasp, Brynn turned and walked away.
Lucian swore under his breath, struggling against the urge to follow her and drag her back to him. He wasn’t normally given to fits of jealous rage, but his possessiveness where Brynn was concerned was utterly savage. Bloody hell, he had to get control of himself.
Bending, he snatched up a bow and notched an arrow, then drew it back and let the missile fly with a whooshing thud. It struck the target dead center.
When he turned, however, he realized he wasn’t alone. Dare was regarding him with something akin to sympathy.
“I must say, I don’t envy you,” his friend said softly. “If this is what marriage leads to, I believe I shall pass.”
Only when Lucian was alone with Brynn in the carriage, driving home, did he have the chance to mention the fray on the archery range that had caused a minor scandal among the company. “Would you care to explain how you managed to create a sensation less than an hour into the party after you agreed to behave with circumspection?”
Brynn gave him a wounded look that was edged with indignation. “You cannot believe I deliberately encouraged that dispute?”
Lucian found himself gritting back a reply. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely to blame. Perhaps she hadn’t purposefully orchestrated a public fight over her attentions. But she could certainly have prevented a spectacle by simply keeping away from those two young hotheads and not giving them cause to drool over her. “Can’t I? I think you deliberately encouraged those pups to make fools of themselves over you.”
“You are quite wrong. I’ve told you before. The curse makes men do foolish things when they are around me.”
“Then I suggest you not allow them to be around you.”
“Are you saying I must shun their company?”
“I am saying I would like you to avoid scandal. I don’t enjoy seeing my countess become a public spectacle.”
“Then you should never have wed me,” Brynn said stiffly. “I warned you how it would be.”
Annoyed, Lucian frowned. “What are you about, Brynn? Is this your means of revenge for having to wed me-to disgrace me and our marriage before the ton?”
“No, of course not. It is merely the curse at work.”
“I don’t believe in such things as curses.”
“Perhaps you should.”
His eyes narrowed. “I have been tolerant until now,” he said finally, “but my patience can be stretched only so far.”
She gave him an arch look. “And what will you do when it breaks, Lucian? Beat me? Lock me away with nothing but bread and water? ”