His brother, Kit, eyed him strangely and cocked his head to the side. “Are you about to suffer apoplexy, brother? You do look most perplexed.”
“This cousin of your beloved…” He shook his head. “I do not know how I shall negotiate this evening.”
Their younger brother, Ben, approached, a flute of champagne in his gloved hand. Benjamin had just been sent down from Oxford, a rake and a rogue. And with the budding skills of a spy, for he said boldly, “Her cousin is not so very bad.”
“I quite like her,” added Kit, clearly enjoying his older brother’s discomfort.
“Do you, by God?” He cleared his throat, determined not to relay his actual feelings. “I have heard the worst possible tales.”
Ben tsked, his dark eyes shining with mirth. “I never thought you were one to listen to gossip.”
“Gossip?” Will echoed, recalling the various accounts he had heard and marveling at them. “These are testaments, not gossip.”
He swallowed a laugh and arched his brow as he brought one particular account to mind. “She likes to go down to Parliament and holler at parliamentarians.”
“That is not so very odd,” returned Kit.
Ben took a long drink of champagne before pointing out, most annoyingly, “You like to holler at parliamentarians.”
He narrowed his gaze at his brother, whom he loved well, and so replied, “That is different, puppy. I’m a duke. I’m allowed to holler at parliamentarians. As a matter of fact, it’s my job to do so.”
Undeterred, Ben continued, “Yes, but I think she would like to do that as a profession.”
“Ladies aren’t allowed such a profession,” Kit pointed out firmly.
Ben laughed. “I think she’d like to change that.”
And then Kit shuddered. “Can you imagine? Ladies in Parliament?”
Actually, Will could.
He believed that ladies should have more possibilities in this life. He thought of his mother, who had bolted from their family home whilst he’d been a child. Ben had been in the nursery.
In the darkest, quietest moments of the night, he could still see her face leaning over his bed, tears in her eyes…
She’d fled to the continent because she could not bear the chains of motherhood and womanhood in England. Or at least, so their father had told him…when he’d spoken of her at all.
Thus, he could imagine why Lady Beatrice wished more for the fairer sex. And yet, he couldn’t quite bear the idea of being alone with her. A woman like Beatrice? Her words had already ignited a fire within him. A fire he was determined to keep banked.
For he had seen the destruction that such fires could cause. He still tasted the ashes of it, alone in his chambers when the past came calling with bitter memories.
Still, tonight, for his brother, he would endure it. Dukes had to.
Suddenly, the names of Lady Beatrice, Lady Margaret, and her father were announced as they entered the ballroom. And much to his surprise, the crowd parted, allowing them entry with a sort of excited holding of breath. The entire company seemed delighted by the arrival of the earl and his daughter.
Was it because of the fact that Kit had paid Margaret so much attention?
Easily, he spotted Lady Margaret, Kit’s future wife. Or at least, that was what his brother was telling him.
She was very pretty indeed. Perhaps a little on the short side, but her smile beamed, basking everyone about her in a golden glow. Everyone seemed to wish to be in the sun of that smile. Yes, she’d make an admirable wife and addition to the family.
And then, Will let his gaze trail slightly. He spotted the other one.
Beatrice.
And the world seemed to stop around him.
The buzz of conversation drifted away. Once he’d locked his gaze upon her, he was unable to look anywhere else.