“Well, you’re a fine one to talk,” Patrick retorted. He put on his own coat, absentmindedly giving both attendants a healthy tip.

A smile lightened Alex’s eyes. “And then?”

“We’ll take a trip down the coast on the Lark.”

Alex looked at him sharply. “Down the coast?”

Patrick nodded. “From the Lark I can discreetly check Breksby’s fortifications in Wales. This seems as good a time as any.”

Alex grimaced. “The whole notion that Napoleon might invade Wales is absurd. Napoleon—if he got the boats together to do it—is sure to head for Kent or Sussex. For God’s sake, he only has flat-bottomed boats! He’ll go straight from Boulogne to Kent.”

Patrick shrugged. “It’s a good excuse for a wedding trip.”

“One doesn’t need an excuse, Patrick.” Alex hesitated. He had destroyed his own wedding trip by falling into a desperate fit of jealousy. “Don’t repeat my mistakes,” he added lightly.

Patrick grinned. “I’m not such a lobcock as that. I’m looking forward to it. Besides, I’m not planning to have the same kind of marriage that you have, Alex. Oh, I’m not saying it won’t be a good marriage—but remember, Sophie wanted to marry Braddon Chatwin. I shouldn’t think we’ll share the paroxysms of emotion that you and Charlotte indulge in.”

Alex looked at him silently, one eyebrow raised.

“I told you. She wanted Braddon’s title.”

“What did she say about your becoming a duke?”

“I haven’t told her.” Patrick’s calm answer admitted no questions.

But twin brothers are not known for reticence. “What do you mean, you haven’t told her? Are you waiting until you’re married?”

Patrick’s shoulder lifted in a tight shrug. “Not particularly. The subject never came up. I will travel to Turkey by myself. I can’t imagine that Sophie would be very interested in an event almost a year in the future.”

Alex slanted his brother a glance under black lashes. “Are you certain you wish to be married, Patrick?”

“If I have to get leg-shackled, why not to Sophie? I like her, and she’s—”

“Unbelievably beautiful,” his brother broke in.

“There is that.” Patrick smiled as a vision of Sophie’s sun-dusted curls drifted through his mind.

“And remarkably intelligent,” his brother prompted.

Patrick shrugged again, looking back over his shoulder. “Yes, in a flirtatious sort of way. She’ll be good company.”

“Flirtatious?” Alex seemed to be choking on a private joke. “Sometime, little brother … sometime you must ask her about languages.”