Chapter 143: distraction

Chapter 143: Chapter 143: distraction

Damian reached for the paper bag, quietly unwrapping the sandwich inside.

"Is this an interrogation?"

Julian grinned.

"It can be."

A brief silence settled over the room.

Adrian took an unhurried sip of his coffee before setting the cup down.

Damian glanced between them.

"...So."

"What are you both actually here for?"

Julian snapped his fingers.

"Right."

"The Sunday Afternoon Tea."

"It starts at two."

"Adrian and I are heading over after lunch."

He looked at Damian expectantly.

"Care to join us?"

"No."

Julian sighed dramatically.

"I don’t even know why I bother."

"You asked."

"I always ask."

"And you always refuse."

Damian shrugged.

"It saves us both time."

"It saves nobody."

Julian pointed his sandwich at him.

"Do you know how many girls are going to be there today?"

Damian looked unimpressed.

"I haven’t counted."

"I have."

Adrian looked over.

"...You counted?"

"I estimated."

"There’s a difference."

Adrian nodded.

"My mistake."

Julian continued as if nothing had happened.

"Freshmen."

"Sophomores."

"Juniors."

"Transfer students."

"Exchange students."

He spread his hands.

"Almost the entire single ladies of Saint Albion descends upon the Student Union whenever they host one of these."

Damian took another bite.

"I’m sure you’ll survive."

Julian looked offended.

"Survive?"

"I’m trying to thrive."

Adrian lifted his coffee.

"A noble ambition."

Julian ignored him.

"And before you say it’s only about tea..."

"It’s not."

"Everyone knows why people go."

Damian nodded once.

"I know."

"So?"

"So I have no reason to attend."

Julian stared.

"You really don’t?"

"No."

"What if you meet someone?"

"I’m not looking."

"What if someone is looking for you?"

"They’ll have to keep looking."

Julian groaned.

"You see?"

He pointed accusingly toward Damian.

"This."

"This is why you’re impossible."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"...Because I don’t want tea?"

"No."

"Because you’ve spent four years at this university..."

"...and somehow managed to avoid every romantic opportunity placed directly in front of you."

Adrian nodded thoughtfully.

"Statistically speaking..."

"It is rather impressive."

Julian laughed.

"You know..."

"I genuinely don’t understand you."

Damian looked at him.

"...Understand what?"

"You."

"You’re twenty-two."

"No girlfriend."

"No fling."

"No scandal."

Adrian nodded thoughtfully.

"An unusually clean record."

Julian spread both hands.

"You attend every charity gala."

"You show up at business receptions."

"You tolerate my house parties."

"You even sit through those painfully dull alumni dinners."

"But somehow..."

"You leave every single one exactly as unattached as when you arrived."

Damian shrugged.

"I’ve simply never found a reason."

Julian stared.

"...Never?"

"Not particularly."

Adrian looked thoughtful.

"There have certainly been opportunities."

Julian barked a laugh.

"Opportunities?"

"There have been battalions."

He began counting on his fingers.

"Lady Catherine."

"Miss Hawthorne."

"The ambassador’s daughter."

"The princess from somewhere who was ready to sell her country by donating all their resources just so she can continue speaking with you."

Damian frowned slightly.

"I thought she wanted to know more about the Foundation."

Julian closed his eyes.

"No."

"She wanted you."

"...Oh."

Julian looked toward Adrian.

"See?"

"Hopeless."

Adrian nodded once.

"I’ve maintained that position for some time."

Julian leaned forward.

"Look."

"I’m not saying you need a wife."

"Or even a serious relationship."

"But a date."

"A fling."

"A summer romance."

"Something."

"You’re twenty-two."

"Go make a few questionable decisions while you’re still young enough to blame them on youth."

Damian looked entirely unconvinced.

"I’ve managed this long without them."

"So you keep saying."

Julian rested an elbow on the table.

"Then explain one thing."

Damian waited.

"The Founders’ Ball."

"The dance."

"For someone who supposedly isn’t interested in women..."

"You certainly picked an interesting dance partner."

The room fell briefly quiet.

Damian’s expression remained composed.

"What about it?"

Julian blinked.

"What about it?"

"The entire university has been talking about it for a week."

Adrian nodded.

"The rumors had already begun."

"The dance merely gave them new life."

Julian let out a low whistle.

"I almost understand why."

He leaned back.

"I mean..."

"Anthony really struck gold."

"Daughter of a Duke."

"Elegant."

"Intelligent."

"And..."

He shook his head with a laugh.

"Have you actually looked at Lady Beaumont?"

"The woman is breathtaking."

"I don’t think there was a man in that ballroom who didn’t notice."

Adrian smiled faintly.

"She was certainly one of the evening’s most admired ladies."

Julian nodded enthusiastically.

"Exactly."

"And then you."

"The Damian Blackwood."

"The man who’s spent four years politely rejecting every eligible young woman in Saint Albion..."

"...chooses that night..."

"...to dance with the most beautiful woman in the university."

He spread both hands dramatically.

"What exactly did you expect people to think?"

Damian remained silent.

Julian continued, oblivious.

"If Lady Beaumont is your standard..."

He laughed.

"Now I understand."

"No wonder everyone else has been wasting their time."

Adrian took another sip of coffee.

"It does set a rather unrealistic benchmark."

Julian pointed toward Damian.

"So do yourself a favor."

"Come to the Sunday Tea."

"Talk to a few people."

"Smile."

"Remind the university that Lady Beaumont isn’t the only woman you’re capable of dancing with."

Damian gave a dry smile.

"I’ve danced before."

Julian snorted.

"With elderly duchesses."

"They don’t count."

"They certainly appreciated the effort."

"I’m sure they did."

Julian waved a dismissive hand.

"I’m talking about women our age."

"The single ones."

"The ones who’ll actually flirt back."

Damian looked unconvinced.

"I think I’ll survive without it."

Julian sighed.

"You probably will."

He stood, brushing imaginary crumbs from his trousers.

"...Actually."

"On second thought..."

"Maybe don’t come."

Damian looked up.

"Why?"

Julian glanced toward Adrian before answering with complete seriousness.

"Because we’re trying to improve our own chances."

Adrian nodded solemnly.

"A perfectly reasonable concern."

Julian pointed at Damian.

"You walk into that hall..."

"The girls won’t even notice the rest of us."

"They’ll all be too busy staring at the Marquess’ heir."

"It would completely dampen the mood."

Damian gave the faintest chuckle.

"I wasn’t aware I was such an inconvenience."

"You are," Julian replied without hesitation.

"And annoyingly enough..."

"You don’t even try."

He picked up the empty coffee cup from the table before glancing toward Adrian.

"We should probably get going."

Adrian nodded, setting down his own cup.

Julian looked back at Damian.

"Enjoy your peaceful Sunday."

"I’m sure you will."

He turned toward the door.

"...Actually."

Damian’s voice stopped him.

Julian looked back.

"What?"

A brief silence settled over the room.

Damian lowered his gaze for a moment.

Against his better judgment...

His thoughts drifted back to the dream.

Warm sunlight spilling across the empty inn.

A slice of strawberry shortcake.

Vivienne’s fingers intertwined with his.

"Damian..."

"I think I like you."

He quietly exhaled.

This was becoming ridiculous.

Lady Beaumont had occupied far too much of his thoughts over the past day.

Perhaps...

Julian had a point.

Perhaps spending an afternoon somewhere else...

Meeting different people...

Would finally clear his head.

He looked back at the two men.

"...Is it really open to everyone?"

Julian blinked.

"...The tea?"

Damian nodded once.

"Yes."

Julian frowned in confusion.

"Of course."

"Why?"

Another heartbeat passed.

Then—

"...Wait."

His eyes widened.

"Don’t tell me—"

Damian let out a quiet sigh.

"I’ll come."

Silence.

Julian stared at him.

Adrian did too.

For several long seconds...

Neither of them spoke.

Then Julian pointed accusingly at Damian.

"...Who are you?"

"And what have you done with Lord Blackwood?"

Even Adrian’s composed expression softened into a smile.

"I must admit..."

"I wasn’t expecting that."

Damian reached for the towel draped over the back of the chair.

"Don’t make me regret it."

Julian immediately threw both hands into the air.

"Not another word."

He looked toward Adrian.

"We’re leaving."

"Before he changes his mind."

Adrian nodded once.

"A wise decision."

Julian opened the door before pausing with one hand on the frame.

"We’ll wait downstairs."

"Don’t take too long."

He looked Damian up and down before grinning.

"...Actually."

"Maybe don’t look too presentable."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

Julian shrugged.

"I’m trying to meet someone today."

"I’d rather the ladies didn’t collectively suffer heart attacks the moment the Lord Damian Blackwood walks through the door."

Adrian took another sip of his coffee.

"A reasonable request."

Damian sighed.

"...You’re both impossible."

Julian laughed.

"I’m going."

"I’m going."

Still chuckling, he disappeared into the corridor with Adrian following close behind.

The door clicked softly shut.

Left alone once more, Damian looked down at the towel in his hands.

"...This had better work."

With that, he quietly began getting ready.

--

Tbc