“And I do not intend to be anything like her father. Madeleine wouldn’t want to go to society affairs. She’s not that sort of woman. So I won’t be waltzing around the ballroom in front of my wife with my mistress. In fact, I foresee a very peaceful home life. I will be careful not to embarrass Sophie or demand too much. I’ll go my own way, after the heir, and we will stay friends. After all, ladies don’t like to have children, ruins their figures. Maybe we’ll be lucky, have a set of twins like you on the first go-around, and then we wouldn’t have to bother anymore.

“Doesn’t that sound like a good plan, Patrick?” Braddon looked at him appealingly.

Patrick’s eyes glowered at him with an unmistakable threat. He said nothing.

After a second Braddon’s lips quivered into an unmistakable pout. “You’re a dog in the manger! A dog in the bloody manger! You didn’t want Arabella anymore—bloody hell, you went right off and left her at a house party without even saying good-bye. And you didn’t come back for six days. Six bloody days! What’d you expect? You didn’t care at the time, so why do you care when I leave her?”

“Why the devil would I care whether you left Arabella?” Patrick shouted back. “This has nothing to do with Arabella!” His words rolled around the empty ballroom. He was blazing with rage.

Braddon jumped to his feet, taking a few agitated steps. “Then why are you so angry at me? What do you care whether I set up a mistress, if you’ve never even seen Madeleine before?”

Patrick blinked. He was conscious of his brother’s interested gaze from his right. What a mess.

“I care,” he said, picking his words carefully, “how you treat Sophie York.”

“You are a dog in the manger!” Braddon burst out, his eyes bulging a little with anger. “I know you didn’t offer for her! I heard all about you groping Sophie in an empty room, and then you didn’t think she was good enough for you! Well, I don’t have your standards, Patrick Foakes. Sophie’s good enough for me.”

Even Braddon’s foolish long face could gain a bit of dignity in a pinch, Alex thought cheerfully, crossing his legs.

Patrick came to his feet in an instant. “You blithering idiot!” he shouted back. “I offered for her, you ass. I offered for her!”

There was a moment of silence. Braddon blinked at him, biting his lower lip. Which only increased his likeness to a bulldog, in Alex’s uncharitable opinion.

“You offered for her? You? And she wouldn’t have you?”

Patrick grinned suddenly. Who could stay angry with a dunderhead like Braddon? He sat down again.

“That’s right. I marched up to the front door the next morning at ten o’clock, only slightly fortified with brandy. Got the question out pat with her father. But it didn’t fly with her.”

Patrick felt a curious rush of protectiveness, remembering Sophie’s large uncertain eyes. She hadn’t expected him to come, that was clear. Which didn’t say much for his reputation. But there he was declaring his intentions. And she’d said no. He didn’t really want to discuss why she refused him.