He was saved from this dangerous line of thought by his friend Daniel, Duke of Ravenwood, and his strikingly beautiful wife meeting up with them at a crossroads. Ravenwood held the hand of a sturdy redheaded lad of about four.

“Westbury,” Ravenwood said. “Been searching for you. Couldn’t believe my ears when your man told me you were out promenading in Hyde Park. Thought you spontaneously combusted in direct sunlight.”

“Ha-ha, Ravenwood. Thought you were in Paris.”

“We’re back for a time.”

The duchess strode over to Viola and the two of them launched into an animated conversation.

“Who’s this little fellow?” West bent down and patted the boy’s cap.

“This is Ambrose, one of my brother-in-law’s brood.”

“What’s Banksford about these days? Haven’t seen him in quite some time.” The Duke of Banksford was an old friend of West’s.

“He’s still building steam engines, financing railways, and filling the nursery with redheaded children.”

The boy tugged on West’s coattails. “Hullo, are you a duke?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“My father is a duke. And I’ll be a duke someday.”

“Shall you make a good duke?”

“Of course I shall. My mother says that I’m practically perfect in every way.”

“Does she now.”

“Oh yes, and then she kisses me and reads me stories about rabbits. You’re very tall and strong. I shall be tall and strong someday. Will you lift me up on your shoulders so I can watch the cricket match?”

Westbury lifted him onto his shoulder and his chubby little legs dangled down.

“I’m so high!” Ambrose shouted gleefully. “I can see the entire park.”

“I spoke with Rafe before I left Paris,” Ravenwood said. “He asked me to check up on you while I was in London. I’ll send him a shocking report of your conventionality. I did some research about you and you haven’t done anything scandalous in weeks. You haven’t gambled away any more of your fortune, picked any fights with prize fighters, accepted any reckless bets, not even a hint of dalliances with courtesans. What gives?”

“I find myself with duties now. I’m making up for past bad behavior by being trotted around Hyde Park, allowing heiresses to ogle me and matchmaking mamas to smack their lips and make wedding plans. All for my sisters’ sake. I’ll reform just enough to see them all settled.”

“You know, we all warned our wives, before they were our wives, about you. We told them ‘Stay away from Westbury. He’s dangerously depraved.’ If our past selves could see you now, we’d remove the warning label.”

“I’m still the same old Westbury,” West growled. “Dangerous as ever.”

“You can pretend this is only temporary respectability until your sisters are settled, but this looks like domesticity to me. Look at you with that child on your shoulder. Female hearts are melting across the park.”