Kit liked this girl. No surprise, as their personalities were similar, but he was glad he’d found Alice first. It turned out that corrupting an innocent woman, coaxing her out of her shell, was far more enjoyable than he’d ever imagined. “From what I hear, you normally start one or two of your own. So catch up, if you would, Miss Young.”

“Already did, Mr. Ward.” Her mouth twisted into a devilish smirk. “Some of us know how to keep ours private, however.”

The duke started toward them and Nellie excused herself, drifting to the other young ladies. Smart of her. No doubt Lockwood was coming to gloat. Kit braced himself, ready to break up a fistfight, if necessary. God knew it wouldn’t be the first time—he, Forrest, Harrison and Preston all had their share of scrapes while in college.

Gleeful satisfaction danced in Lockwood’s gaze, confirming what Kit had suspected. The duke wanted to rub Harrison’s nose in the engagement. “Ward, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private word with Archer.”

The tone brooked no argument, but Kit wasn’t about to desert his friend. “I think I’ll stay, actually.”

Lockwood sipped his champagne and focused on Harrison. “No felicitations, Archer? It must sting to lose to me thrice in one day.”

“Jesus,” Kit muttered under his breath. Was Lockwood mad? Taunting Harrison was dangerous.

“Enjoy it for now, Lockwood. Kit, I’m headed outside for some air. See you at dinner.” Harrison stalked in the direction of the door.

“Not sure stirring him up is the wisest course of action,” Kit said when they were alone.

“I am responding merely in kind. The cleverness that you Americans credit yourselves with.” He shook his head. “It’s quite sad.”

Kit very rarely argued. His attitude was devil-may-care with a dash of live-and-let-live. But he really was coming to loathe the Duke of Lockwood.

And they were trying to push sweet Alice toward this unbearable snob? Absolutely not. Kit would never allow it.

Leaning in, he lowered his voice, “Listen here, Lockwood—”

“Good evening, Your Grace. Mr. Ward.” Alice had joined them, her brown gaze bouncing between the two men. “May I offer Your Grace congratulations on the betrothal?”

Lockwood inclined his head a fraction, as if displays of real emotion were beneath him. “Thank you, Miss Lusk. I could not be happier.”

“Indeed.” She bit her lip, seemingly at a loss for words. Lockwood said nothing more, content to let the silence stretch, but the longer it went on, the redder Alice’s face became.