Taste of Desire by Lavinia Kent Page A

back.”
    “And a fine reception I receive,” Peter said.
    Tristan had to work to hold back his grin . “If you’d remembered to send word, I’d have thrown a soiree.”
    “You’re a fine one to talk about forgetting.”
    “I don’t know of what you speak.”
    “Your only brother and you don’t even bother to inform me of your wedding . I have to hear about it at the club.”
    “Oh, that.”
    “Yes, that. Where is my lovely new sister? I do take it she’s lovely?”
    “Yes, she is that . She’s also not here.”
    “Not here ? Then where is she?”
    “I am surprised you didn’t hear that tidbit as well.” Tristan walked towards the door, letting Peter follow in his wake. “There must be new gossip to cover the fact I married by special license and sent my bride to the country the next day. I wonder whether there’s been a duel or some sweet young thing has eloped that has eclipsed the anecdotes of my lovely wife. Do you know?”
    “There was something about the Earl of Danchester’s daughter and that Dutchman, Huismans, but don’t try and distract me. How could you marry without informing me? Why have you sent your wife away? And is the gossip correct that I shall soon be an uncle? Is there another reason you would marry so – unexpectedly?”
    Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose . The headache of the morning returned. Why had he ever taught Peter the importance of asking questions? “If you’d been in London or even in the country I would have sent you word of the wedding. Don’t forget that the last letter you sent said simply Paris lives up to expectations . My message would still be tracking you down, if I’d sent one. To the second question – it is no one’s business but Marguerite’s and mine. As to the third and fourth – also a private matter, but not one that shall be private for long. Yes, you will be an unc . . . yes, Marguerite is expecting. God willing I will have an heir sometime next summer. However, we plan to wait the proper number of weeks before we spread the news. I trust in your discretion.”
    Peter leaned against the door with a thump, blocking the entrance to the house . “Thank God. I was beginning to think you were depending on me and that would never do. I’ve no intention of doing the honorable. Can’t imagine a woman who could hold my attention for that long. Is that what happened? Was one day of marriage more than enough?”
    Tristan’s fingers curled by his side . If it had been anyone but Peter . . . no that wasn’t right, if anyone but Peter had said the same, the words would have rolled away. “I’ve already said it was a private matter. I had my own reasons for the marriage. Perhaps I will explain them when I have time.” He’d never thought to confide in his brother. Peter was a trifle reckless and tended towards excess, but he’d a good head on his shoulders. It would require thought. “I will be joining Marguerite in the country shortly.” Or at least he hoped he would. If Moreland kept up the camaraderie it might take longer.
    Peter shrugged . “If you say so. When do I get to meet my savior? Would you object if I headed off to Glynwolde myself to give thanks to your sweet bride? I can’t tell you what a relief it is to know I won’t ever be responsible for all this.” Peter waved vaguely at the imposing façade of the house.
    “The baby might be a girl.”
    “Don’t ruin my mood. Besides I am sure you’re good for more than one. You’ve always done your duty – just like father. If there’s an heir you still need a spare. See, I do know my purpose in life. One you are so kindly freeing me from.”
    Tristan stared up at the sky . He was far better not considering his options should Marguerite bear a daughter. He turned away from Peter before risking any slip of expression. He didn’t want Peter to know how closely that arrow had hit. Yes, he was like his father – and Marguerite his mother.
    Schooling his features he waved