I begrudgingly take a seat in the chair. “Perhaps. Is it a good wine?” I arch my brow at the bottle in his hand

        He brings two glasses from behind the bar, and sits in the chair next to me before turning to face me completely. “Perhaps. Should I pour a few glasses, and we find out?

        “Please.” He pours two full glasses, and places one in my hand. We both take a healthy sip, and I sigh as warmth envelopes my body. 

        “So, Miss, Deveruex, what brings you to the Quill and Egg?” He questions.

        “Isn’t it so obvious? I’m just in time for the social season to begin. My mother has deemed it time for me to marry.”  I empty my glass, and he studies my face as he fills my glass again.

        “I had assumed a woman of your beauty would be spoken for.” His eyes lock with mine at the complement and sips from his glass. My stomach flip flops again.

        I quickly recover, and scoff before responding. “You flatter me, but marriage is Not in my future plans. For now.”

        “Is there a reason it is not? You are lovely. Any man would be so lucky to present you on their arm.” His eyes dance on my frame under the candle light.

        I sigh heavily as I swirl the red liquid in my glass. “My point exactly. It would not be for love. It would be because I would improve their status. I am not just a beautiful face, but my wit and eye for adventure mean nothing to the men of the ton.” I sip the wine at a slower pace.

        “I wouldn’t be so sure. I find it quite endearing. In fact, it makes me want to know more.” He empties his glass, and pours another.

        I swallow the weird emotion down, and drink more wine. “What brings you here then?”

        He smiles. “Visiting a few olds friends, and their families. My best friend is to be married soon.”

        “Interesting, my brother was recently betrothed. He is the reason I am due back to London so soon.”

        “How so?” His thick brows furrow with curiosity.

        His eyebrows rose with curiosity. “What deal?”

        I sip from my glass at a slower pace after noticing the merlot had given me very loose lips. “There was a deal made with my parents to allow me to travel the world and stay unmarried only until each of my brothers were married.”

        “So who was the genius behind the agreement?” He stares directly into my eyes.

        “It was mine of course.” My breath hitches in my throat from the intensity of his stare.

        “Very brilliant idea from a girl of twelve.” He nods thoughtfully. 

        “I should think so. I have lived six wonderful years of culture and parent free bliss, ” I empty my glass and smile as he empties the bottle by evenly distributing wine in each of our glasses.

        He empties his glass in one gulp before locking his eyes on mine again. “So you are eighteen now?” He confirms.

        ““Very clever, Your Grace.”  I gibbed at him before placing my hands on the table between us.

        “Are your siblings also witty?” His eyes trail the length of my neck.

        I swallowed, and my body reacted to his gaze. Heating in the areas he focused on. “To some extent perhaps.

        He nods, bringing his eyes back to mine. “How many siblings do you have?”

        “I have five brothers and two sisters. There are eight of us total.” He does not seem shocked like most. “Do you have siblings?”

        He nods thoughtfully. “Indeed I do. I have a younger brother and younger sister. I am curious, Miss Devereux, what are your siblings' names?”” 

        I laugh nervously as I hold eye contact with him. “You, my new found acquaintance, are in for a treat. You shall be amazed at my mother’s creativity. In order of birth with myself included; Samuel II, Simon, the twins Silas and Selim, Sebastian, myself , and the second set of twins Simone and Sienna.”

        A look of surprise flashes over his face for a breakfast moment before he quickly replaces it with a smirk. “You most certainly obtained your wit from your mother. I would have never come up with that many ‘S’ names.” He chuckles.

        The sound is deep in his throat and it offsets a giggle from my throat. “I doubt anyone could.” I smile, amused. 

        “So, Your grace, tell me about you. Do your siblings have names? Or are they called brother and Sister Hamilton?”

        That earns me another hearty laugh and I swoon on the inside. “Their names are Edward and Eliza.” 

        “Eliza Hamilton is your sister?” I whisper yell to avoid waking anyone and risk being caught drinking with a gentleman in the middle of the night.

        “Yes. I assume you know her?” He studies my reaction.

        “Know her? She is a dear friend of mine. We have sent numerous letters over the course of my adventurous six years.” I study his facial features closely. Finally seeing the resemblance he has to Eliza. The thick black hair. The dazzling emerald green eyes with the slight speck of gold in them. The almost too perfect teeth, and full lips placed on the most beautiful creamy brown skin. I realized I had been staring and averted my gaze.

        “So you are her very important penpal. Interesting.” He smirks.

        “And what, pray tell, is so interesting about our friendship?” I challenge him.

        He laughs lightly. “Nothing at all. You sound happy to be back?” He attempts to hide a cheeky smile.

        “I am happy. I’ve missed my family and friends.” I smile longingly thinking about my family.

        “Are you ready then? For marriage?” He finishes his second glass, and fills the glass again.

        “I am not sure, but I do know if I leave it to my mother she would sell me off to the highest ranking man in London. I do not want that. I would prefer to cause my own doom than settle with the doom my mother picks for me.” I swirl the wine in my glass before taking a big drink, and tilting my glass towards him for more.

        “Would it be so horrible? The men of the ton are not so bad.” He studies my face and moves closer. So close our knees touch under the table.

        “I am sure you believe that, but I am not so easily fooled.” I finish my glass, and release a delighted sigh. “Are you also preparing yourself for marriage?”

        He blows out a long breath. “No. Not at the moment, but I may have a look into the ladies of this season. One lady in particular has caught my attention.” His eyes are hooded, and I look away.

        “She shouldn't be interested unless you have titles, or money. The women of the ton are as awful as the men.” I fidget with my shawl.

        “Good thing I have both.” He smiles.

        “Interesting. What are your titles? If you do not mind me inquiring.” I glance.

        “Elijah Henry James Hamilton, 8th Duke of Hamilton, 4th cousin to the King and 3rd in line for the throne. Amongst a few other titles.” He avoids my eyes by looking into the empty wine glass.

        “Impressive. The ladies of the ton will flock to you in a haste, Your Grace.” He divides the last of his wine into our glasses evenly.

        “Do you have any titles?” He asks as he swallows back the dark liquid.

        “No titles. Just a really long, boring name.” He nudges me with his knee under the table.

        “A name for a name. It is only fair.” He smiles cockily.

        I huff. “Sabine Emery Rose Devereux.” I swallow back the contents of my glass.

        “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Not boring in the least.” He smiles. “Well, Miss Devereux, I am afraid we have finished all of the wine.” He stands and puts away the wine bottle and glasses.

        “Indeed we have. Thank you for such a pleasant conversation, Your Grace.” I dip and bow my head slightly.

        We walk side by side towards the staircase. “I should thank you for saving me the pain of drinking alone, and please call me Elijah.” He gently grasps my hand, and turns to me just as we reach the foot of the stairs.

        My heart beats rapidly and my body warms slightly.  I steady my shaky voice as best as I possibly can. “It was my pleasure. Goodnight, Elijah.”

        “Sweet dreams, Sabine.” He turns my hand palm facing up, and plants a kiss on the sensitive skin of my wrist. “Until we meet again.” 

        With that he walks down the hall and up the stairs, leaving me alone. Rooted in the front of the stairs. A smile forms on my face and a tingling feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I stand alone staring mindlessly at the now empty doorway contemplating what had just happened for a while before I decide I had merely partook in too much wine. I quickly gather myself and make the long walk up the stairs to my room. I quickly and silently as possible undress and climb into the bed next to a peacefully sleeping Genevieve before allowing myself to falling into a wine induced sleep.