The Duke of Linwood’s private sitting room was a comfortable space that managed to be both masculine and cozy, all dark polished wood, soft brown leather, and plum red damask. The room was the duke’s den, his sanctum, his retreat, a place of gentle conversations and quiet contentment. Whenever Dex set foot in it, he had a sense of shedding his burdens, a feeling that the world slowed its hectic pace, that troubles and worries and disappointments couldn’t intrude. Which was silly. Of course troubles, worries, and disappointments could intrude. He was bringing all three into the sitting room right now.
Maximus Pryor, Duke of Linwood, was ensconced in his favorite armchair. His heir, Primus—Ace to family and friends; the Marquis of Stanaway if one was being formal—had chosen an armchair, too
