Dropping his head, Gideon took in Sebastian Brooks, the Duke of Whitfield. The man was just a year or two older than Gideon’s eight and twenty years, and they had fallen into an easy friendship for all that they were different. Whitfield, the urbane, witty, arrogant duke who commanded attention wherever he went and couldn’t bother to vote his seat; and Gideon, an upstart who strived for power and wanted still more to create change for others. But Gideon appreciated the other man’s bluntness, and the advice he’d provided as Gideon ventured into high society had proven invaluable. Skulk, indeed.
