CHAPTER THREEDinner at Marlborough House was as usual most amusing.
There were a number of extremely pretty ladies and gentlemen with whom the Duke enjoyed conversing.
When the ladies left the dining room, the gentlemen talked politics.
As they were finishing a decanter of port, one of them remarked,
“You snould attend The House of Lords more often, David. Your ideas might be a little revolutionary, but you have convinced me that they are valid.”
The Duke smiled.
“I am afraid I find the speeches boring, especially when the older members read them rather badly.”
There was some laughter at his comment and then someone sneered,
“The only things you read, Sherbourne, are billets doux.”
“That is an insult,” the Duke fumed. “I ought to call you out tomorrow morning.”
“That would certai
