Chapter 5

"T WO WEEKS AIN'T THE LEAST BIT DEPRESSING, and you only have three days to go before the wedding. Gives you time to have second thoughts, don't it? Her mother is a genius if you ask me. You may end up thanking her."

All four men stared at Percival Alden as if he were daft. This was not an unusual occurrence. It happened all the time, actually. Percy, as his friends called him, could be counted on to say the most ridiculous things, or worse, to say things he shouldn't to the wrong people, which usually resulted in one of his friends getting in deep water. And oddly enough, it was never intentional, it was simply Percy being Percy.

Right now, only Jeremy Malory was glaring at Percy for the remarks he had just made. The other men in the room were greatly amused, though most of them tried admirably not to show it. But Jeremy was the one in the dumps over being denied access to Danny, the woman who'd won his heart, while her mother arranged their wedding.

Some private time alone with her daughter was Evelyn Hillary's real motive when she'd told Jeremy almost two weeks ago to go home to await the day of his nuptials. He shouldn't begrudge her that, she'd said, and he didn't really. Mother and daughter had been separated for many years, after all, Danny having grown up in the London slums, unaware of who she was or that she still had one parent alive when she'd thought them both dead. And they'd only just been reunited.

Knowing that made the separation no easier to bear for Jeremy. He'd only just realized that what he felt for Danny was real, and Malorys didn't succumb to love easily. They were a family that had produced some of London's most notorious rakes, Jeremy included, and not one of them had ever treated that emotion lightly once they'd experienced it.

Drew Anderson was the only one in the drawing room, where the men had gathered after dinner, who didn't try to conceal his amusement over Percy's remarks. Out of all the Malorys he probably liked Jeremy the best, since they had so much in common, or at least they did before Jeremy decided to give up his bachelorhood. Jeremy was also his nephew by marriage, or step-nephew, but family nonetheless.

What was even more amusing was that Jeremy, known to have such a high tolerance for alcohol that he'd never experienced a state of real inebriation, even when drinking everyone else under the table, looked to be on his way to changing that amazing record tonight. He'd arrived with a bottle of brandy in hand, had gone through another during dinner, and was fast making his way through a third. It was incredible that he wasn't passed out on the floor and that his words weren't slurred, but there was a telltale glaze in his eyes that warned he was foxed, as the saying went here, for the first time in his life.

His father, James, hadn't noticed yet. His uncle Anthony was too busy trying not to laugh to notice. Percy only noticed things he shouldn't, so he wouldn't be remarking on it. But Drew, being an Anderson in the enemy's camp, as it were, had no trouble spotting Jeremy's misery and what he was attempting to do about it.

Sorrows drowned in drink. It was too funny. But Drew could almost sympathize. The bride was incredibly beautiful, and he'd considered pursuing her himself when he'd thought she was just Jeremy's upstairs maid. But Jeremy had already staked a claim and had made that clear. And no woman was worth fighting over in Drew's opinion. If he couldn't have one, another would do. He wasn't particular, and wasn't about to get caught in an emotion that was foreign to him.

In every harbor he sailed into, there was a woman waiting to greet him with open arms. It wasn't that he'd made a deliberate effort to have a "sweetheart" in every port, as his sister was fond of putting it. He was just a man who loved women, all women, and those he favored tended to hope he'd make their port his permanent one. Not that he ever gave them any reason to think he'd ever settle down. He told them no lies, made them no promises, and when he was at sea didn't require they be any more faithful than he'd ever be.

Georgina and Anthony's wife entered the drawing room before Jeremy got around to blasting his friend. Now, there was another fine-looking woman, Rosalyn Malory, Drew thought. He had heard how Anthony had won the lady. She'd been in need of a husband to protect her from an unscrupulous cousin who was trying to steal her fortune. Anthony had volunteered, to the amazement of his family. He was another rake they'd thought would never marry.

Drew could say one thing for the Malory men: they certainly had good taste in women. And James Malory had made the best catch of all, in his opinion, because James had managed to get the Andersons' only sister to fall in love with him. He didn't deserve her, of course. None of her brothers thought he did. But it couldn't be denied that he made her happy.

Drew wasn't looking forward to being confined on a ship with his formidable brother-in-law, but he was certainly delighted that he'd be spending more time with his sister and niece, since he didn't get to London that often. Too bad James couldn't be left behind. He ought to suggest it. He could take care of James's family well enough, since they were his family, too. And he was sure James didn't really want to go, when he had such bad memories of the last time he'd been in Bridgeport.

Wouldn't hurt to suggest it, Drew thought. It would be another week before they sailed, enough time for James to at least consider staying home. There was time enough for Drew to watch Jeremy tie the knot, too, and lament that another confirmed bachelor was leaving the ranks. If he ever got that stupid, he hoped someone would shoot him first.