Page 7 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
“What I mean is that I am more than happy to step up to my duty, as I have neglected to do, and find you a good husband so you will not have to rely on my future wife as your only source of company.” He gave her a knowing look. “Now I am back I intend to do my best to show up for you.”
His sister’s face softened. The hard elegant mask she wore to follow their mother always made her appear a little older than she was. But suddenly she was the little sister he had adored and swore to protect years ago. He smiled up at her, only to have those eyes narrowed on him again, and the harsh, smaller version of their mother returned.
“Do your best, Edward. I do not want us to bear the gossip that comes from your negligence.”
“Heavens forbid it,” he muttered sarcastically as Elena gave a huff of impatience and stormed from the library.
“Lady Catherine, Edward! Do not forget!”
However, could I? he thought to himself. His eyes were already on his book in seconds, thoughts of Lady Catherine, and Lady Thea, and Lady Georgina, and every single lady on the list, slipped away.
***
Lady Montgomery’s home was a bright candle, blazing with light against the dark sky. Inside, the ballroom was filled with theton,all of them excited for the Season ahead.
Mothers stood with their daughters, keenly overseeing the litany of men who entered in their tailcoats and different colored waistcoats. Fathers huddled to one side nearest the wine, trying to forget they would have to be responsible for their daughters’ futures, friends linked and ladies were already fanning themselves as they noted the differences in the lords in attendance.
Edward hated it all immediately.
He stood with his mother who was already surveying the ballroom. Dressed in the silver and deep green colors of the Thornshire family, Edward didn’t feel out of place, but his stomach was a riot of nervous butterflies, and his hands could not stop clenching and unclenching, not knowing what to do.
“Stop that fussing,” his mother scolded, smacking his wrist with her fan. “If you fidget with your cuff sleeves once more...”
“I have stopped,” he snapped back, tense and on-edge. Cringing, he averted his gaze from her narrowed one.
She only shook her head at him before speaking moments later. “Elena provided you with a list so I am told. Did you recognise any names?”
Edward shook his head. “And I do not require a lecture about how I ought to recognise them, or that I would have recognised them had I been present. I have made my promises to Elena and she is satisfied enough.”
At his mother’s silence, he looked back at her. She appeared ready to argue it, but only turned back to the ballroom, clearly irritated. Edward knew she hated being spoken back to. Tonight, of all nights, he would have to be careful and keep her calm.
“Good,” she finally said begrudgingly. “When will you approach your first dance partner of the night, then?”
The sigh he bit back took effort not to exhale. His nerves were frayed, and everywhere he looked eyes already seemed to be on him. He couldn’t afford them all, and fought the urge to fidget with his cuff sleeve again. Perhaps a glass of wine would help. Perhaps he could do that, and settle his nerves, and do what he could to stay afloat in the sea of anxiety he drowned in.
Beneath his collar, sweat began to collect. His cravat felt knotted too tight, and his waistcoat was too constricting. Everything felt wrong and off-kilter, as though he was one footstep away from disaster. The anxiety hung over him, and he could not even entirely pinpoint what his problem was. Just being out of the house, being around so many people, not knowing how many people he needed to converse with—it all got to him.
Hours ago, he had been reading in the library. Now, he was at Lady Montgomery’s ball, and sincerely wished he was anywhere but there.
“I am going to get a drink,” he muttered. Before his mother could protest, he walked away from her and headed to the refreshments table. On his way, he passed a group of lords of different ages. They spoke in low voices, their focus breaking as he walked by.
“Thornshire,” one called out. “That is you, is it not, Thornshire? Heavens, did London finally call you? We half thought the countryside had swallowed you whole.” The jesting came from Lord Thomas who’d been a distant friend of Edward’s before he had retreated.
“It is me, yes,” he said, forcing a laugh. “It is good to see you, Willoughby. You must have taken your viscountcy by now, no?”
“I have.” He flashed a wide grin, his face pulling into a quick charm that would no doubt have several ladies swooning. “I was just telling Lord Bradley here that I am thinking of hosting a gathering in our old gentleman’s club. You recall the Greenacre?”
Edward’s stomach dropped at the mere thought of another social event when he was barely getting through this one. It had taken him days of worrying over the ball, and hours that day of talking himself down from canceling his attendance. To already be thinking about another event was dizzying.
“I do,” he answered hesitantly.
“Do join us, Thornshire. We can properly catch up.”
Around Lord Thomas, some of the other lords nodded, while the rest looked confused at his presence, interested at the disappearance and the reason why.They are just as bad as the ladies with their gossiping, Edward thought.
“I will let you know,” he said, trying to sound casual. “It sounds good.” It sounded terrible. “I have quite a lot to do, what with my return and everything, but I will do my best.” Only his absolute best to find an excuse not to attend.
With a polite nod, he walked on and finally went to get his wine. But before he could, a lady appeared at his side, reaching for the same wine glass he went for. Her blonde hair was curled and tumbling over one shoulder, falling alongside the necklineof her dress. Edward gave an awkward smile when he turned his head to face her.
