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cozy circle.
    “Not at all. Mother is hosting a gathering
and I wanted to issue the invite personally.” He told them about
James and Aiden, soon realizing Monty was looking at him curiously,
knowing full well why. He had hardly been sober, solicitous, or
anything but foxed in years. “And—I was going bloody daft in the
house.”
    Monty arched his brow. “We shall, of course,
attend.”
    Deme moved his gaze and noticed Juliette
staring at him too.
    She did not pretend not to, and offered, “You
look better, Deme.”
    “I haven’t been ill.”
    Her dry, amused smile reminded him of someone
else’s. “That’s debatable.”
    Monty offered, “Dare I hope sobriety is a
more constant state in your future, than this path to destruction
you’ve been on for years?”
    “No.” Deme grinned lazily. “It’s forced upon
me. Mama and his grace seem to be taking the lads leaving rather
hard. In fact, they have sprung quite a few things on me this
week.” He spoke his father’s wish he take over Wimberly, and the
fact the Duchess was inviting Marston down.
    “The lads are growing up.” Monty sighed and
shook his head. “And I for one would applaud it if you did have
something to do besides rake. You know those tenants and
lands.”
    “I do. But I am not you, my friend.” Deme
gave his charming smile. “I haven’t the nature to endure life with
sobriety. I quite enjoy my vises.”
    Lady Juliette, as unconventional as his own
siblings, offered, “You’re spoiled, Deme. It will not kill you to
spend some time with your brothers, and at least consider your
father’s wishes. As for Marston, I do not know him, but I doubt
seriously that Lisette welcomes his being picked for her. You must
make sure he is someone she could love and not just a title and
fortune.”
    “Lisette will be forced into nothing. As for
you summation of my character…” he drawled and looked at Monty
before looking back at her. “I whole heartedly agree. I never said
I did not get what I wanted. Don’t worry, I quite like my brothers
company.”
    Later, Monty said to him when they stood by
the open French doors with cheroots, the rain dripping now from the
eves, “Stop punishing yourself.”
    “I’m not.”
    Monty turned his head and those brown eyes
met his. “Yes you are, or at least you have got it into your head
that you don’t deserve better, none of us can undo regrets. I wish
you had come with me, back then.”
    “As do I.”
    “But you did not. I was not here for your
worst days. However, we have been friends most of our lives. I have
found my soul mate, but I still need my friend. You know me as I do
you, Deme. This is a rare occasion when I have actually looked at
you and seen you view me through clearer eyes— rather than the haze
of brandy. It does you no good to protect yourself with it. If you
never care again, you will never really get over it and get on with
living. You numb yourself. You are over the facts, but you don’t
trust anyone or yourself, my friend.”
    Deme blew smoke and looked away. “I don’t
know what it is everyone thinks I need to feel or do. My future is
secure; I have everything and have had it from the day I was born.
My father says I lack passion and fire...” Deme laughed low. “You
cannot invent something to give you that, and frankly, I no longer
desire it.”
    “You will.” Monty grunted. “You’re a man in
your prime. You will.”
    They visited a bit more and then Deme took
his leave, giving Juliette a wink when she kissed his cheek.
    “Tell Lisette to come see me if the weather
is clear.”
    “I shall.”
    It was not raining when they departed, only
muddy and growing foggy out. Half way to the estate, vexed by all
the unasked for opinions and peering into his emotions, he tapped
the roof and the coach halted. He told her to drive to the village.
For a moment, he thought she would ignore him, but with a flick,
she took the detour.
    Deme told himself it was restlessness. It