It was another reason she loathed dukes. They were always accustomed to getting their way. Though William wasn’t quite so bad—she knew that now.
Even so. She wasn’t prepared to see him. How would she manage? She’d simply have to tell him she was unwell… But. She was no coward, and she would not begin acting like one. Even if her circumstances had taken an abrupt reversal.
She was still her strong-willed self. Even if she had no money.
Chapter Thirteen
Will had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Which was not his typical state of affairs.
He shouldn’t be striding up to Lady Beatrice’s townhouse. Not after their kiss. He should be avoiding her at all costs—but he was no coward. And they were going to have to sort the situation before Kit and Margaret married.
They had to come to some sort of terms that would keep them both on their very separate yet amicable paths. Paths that wouldn’t allow for the sort of fiery embrace that had stolen his mind, his wits, and his ability to sleep. For if he did close his eyes, his dreams were fixated by her and her form and every possible pleasure he could give her between his linen sheets.
Usually, he was in complete command of his decision-making rationality. He prided himself on being a man of reason, a man of boldness, and a man of action. After all, his entire life had put him in such a position; when some men faltered, he went forward.
It had been his strong suit in Parliament and the halls of power. When some men heard the shouting and manipulations of the opposing party and turned to retreat, Will thrived. He turned their arguments, their pettiness, and drove his own cause home. And his boldness moved those who were uncertain to boldness.
The arguments he’d had with prime ministers and the king’s own advisors were legend.
Yet, the strange turn his life was taking was completely different than the dangerous games played at the center of English power. And he was relieved. Everything was falling into place.
Beatrice was a marvel. A friend in a world where dukes did not have friends. Not truly. But the kiss… It had made their friendship…different.
And he needed to speak with her about it.
He had not felt so strange since the day he’d learned he was to be the duke. He’d not truly been ready, though his father had been unrelenting in Will’s preparation to take up the family’s power. Will had simply thought he’d have more time to himself to learn and find some joy, despite the loss of his mother, before he was saddled with such a monumental job.
His father never should have died so young.
And from something so silly as a dip in the water.
They all loved to winter swim in lakes and rivers. Their father had encouraged such endeavors to build mental and physical strength. And his father had done it every day of his life since boyhood.
It should have been just another day when they all took the icy plane. And yet, his father had developed a chill after their frigid outing.
He’d been forced to his bed, another odd thing for their father, who considered himself above illness.
He’d never risen.
It had shaken Will to his very core.
Perhaps some might have responded to such a thing by becoming cautious. Instead, it seemed that he and his brothers had responded in quite the opposite fashion.
No, they damn well wanted to honor their father’s life by living. To the full.
They all acted as if this was perhaps their last day. Not in wild debauchery but in purpose and intensity. One never knew if one would be struck down by illness or step into the road and be killed by a coach.
He had been a hard and demanding man, but he had still been their father.
This life was a most strange thing.
And so, to honor his father, he had tried to live dedicated to the good that a duke could do. Yes, his father had never chosen the easy or cautious path.
He wondered if his father would approve of his support of Beatrice.
He did not know. His father had taken a fairly narrow view of ladies, what he believed their limitations to be, and their role in society.