Known For:
Inserting himself into duels that don’t technically concern him, appearing after curfew and making excellent use of open windows, and being found shirtless in libraries for reasons no one will explain. Has allegedly been banned from three households and knighted in one (unofficial) secret society of widows. Carries a flask and a love letter—both frequently addressed to the wrong woman. Capable of indebting a man (or lady, for that matter) before they’re the wiser. Pretends it’s not part of the long game.

Status:
Unmarried. Uncontainable. Has broken more engagements than glasses at his own family’s dinner table. Currently not speaking to the magistrate. Again.

“It wasn’t my fault she climbed the trellis. I merely encouraged her.”

Editor’s Note:
The sort of man who once kissed a debutante in the conservatory, stepped out to teach her brother how to win at cards, and forgot to return. You will love him. You will regret him. Possibly in that order.

Assessment:
Too quick with a wink, too good with his hands, and far too clever for his own good. Disappears before consequences arrive—and reappears when profits do. Often mistaken for a charming disaster, and not entirely by accident. But cotton empires aren’t built on charm alone… though he’ll let you believe otherwise.

Approach at your own peril. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

Known For:
Setting records for fastest apology, fastest reoffense, and fastest charm offensive—sometimes all within the same conversation.
Still maintains it isn't technically a duel if no one died.

Status:
Unmarried. Frequently pursued, occasionally caught, and always somehow back on the loose by morning.
Has a documented weakness for sharp-tongued women who threaten to hit him.

“Well, how was I to know she was engaged? She kissed me first. I just happened to kiss her better.”

Editor’s Note:
Possesses the unsettling talent of convincing stern fathers and stern daughters of entirely different truths—within the same hour.
Reads only letters from his mother—and even then, selectively.

Assessment:
An unrepentant riot in evening dress.
Highly combustible near champagne, chandeliers, and any gathering with more than two cousins.
Caution advised. (Or not, if you’re the adventurous type.)

Known For:
Unknown. Unverified. Unrepentant. Possibly on the run.
Confirmed sightings exist — but so do sea monsters. Interpret accordingly.

Status:
Unmarried. Allegedly. Wanted (in various senses).

“Tell her I'm sorry. Tell him I'm not. Tell everyone else nothing at all.
No one's proven anything — and if they had, what is proof, anyway?”
(From a postscript that mysteriously caught fire.)

Editor’s Note:
A name whispered in gambling halls, denied in court, and accompanied by a suspiciously intact whiskey tab that has never been settled.
We are assured he exists. Then again, Desmond claims a lot of things.

Assessment:
Should he exist, we expect him to arrive uninvited, unshaven, and in the middle of a very loud misunderstanding.
In such an event, secure your valuables, draw the curtains, and clutch your rosary beads.