Page 18 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
Edward’s face only turned pink before he truly did hurry away then.
Rebecca didn’t stand alone for long, not before she was pulled into another dance, yet she couldn’t stop trying to catch Edward’s eye as he spoke with Lord Thomas Willoughby. More hands passed her around the dance floor, and by the time she finally came to a stop and sought Edward out once more there was no sign of him. Lady Thornshire looked furious, and Rebecca could only assume Edward did what she knew him to once do: simply leave without explanation, seeking his own solitude.
I would prefer to be alone for a whole month than endure an hour of a very busy dinner party, Edward had once proclaimed to her, the two of them too young to realize that they indeed would have to suffer through many dinner parties and he wouldn’t have had the chance to be alone.
She barely had time to think about it before Catherine drifted up to her looking both concerned and pleased with herself at once.
“Lord Edward Thornshire,” was all she said, and Rebecca startled at how rapt she turned. “Who is he to you?”
Her friend sounded more curious than annoyed, or jealous, and Rebecca realized her friend wasn’t being hostile or territorial.
“He is an old friend,” she told Catherine. “Nothing more, if that is what you are worried about. I saw you dancing with him.”
She wasn’t sure if she imagined her friend’s face relaxing. “I was. He is a most graceful dancer.” Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she stood alongside Rebecca against one of the far walls of the ballroom. “Do you know where he learnt?”
“Actually, it was alongside me,” Rebecca laughed. “Our fathers were good friends, so we often saw one another through our childhoods. With him being only one year older, we so happened to begin our dance tutoring near enough at the same time. He needed a female partner; I needed a male one. Our fathers merely saw it fit to practice together.”
“Oh.” Catherine’s voice softened in disappointment. “I… I see.”
“It is nothing romantic,” Rebecca hurried to tell her. “Nothing at all like that.”
“Are you certain? It is just that you are different with him than you have been with other men in the circle.”
“I am most certain. It is only due to our connection as children that I am comfortable with him. Truly, we have only had two conversations since the Season began.” She dropped her voice low into a teasing curl. “Do you like him, Catherine?”
Her friend grinned. “I like him most out of all my suitors, and I just know he feels the same. Only earlier he was promising me all of his estates! He only has four, but I am certain I can always convince him to invest in more. A woman does crave options, of course.”
“Of course,” Rebecca murmured, thinking of the dozens her father owned in preparation of all his children growing up. He would be selling them off soon, no doubt. Or perhaps he would remain selfish and keep them running, but only with skeleton staff. Perhaps it would be their own belongings that went beforeany of his beloved estates. Certainly before he gave up drinking and gambling, which Rebecca knew he had not.
She continued when she realized her friend waited for more. “Truly, I cannot see myself marrying him at all, and only really see him as the younger boy I once knew. We were childhood friends, and I wish to remain a friend to him, that is all.”
Catherine’s brows rose in surprise, her lower lip caught between her teeth in thought. “You surprise me. A sea of men willing to fall at your feet and yet you do not want this particular fish.” Her mouth lifted in amusement at her own metaphor. “Fine, then, if you do not want the tall, dark, handsome earl then I will be more than happy to attempt to match with him.”
“These men… they are not really fish, are they? It is rather that they are all sharks,” Rebecca corrected with a laugh as she linked her arm through Catherine’s. “He was asking about you.” In fact, the way he had asked so uncertainly lingered in her mind, and she paused.
“He was?” Catherine’s mouth pulled into a wider smile. “I should expect so. I made an impression.”
But Edward had alluded to Catherine not being genuine, and while Rebecca knew that ladies did feel as though they had to play the role of the doting debutante, molded into whatever a suitor wished to see, she also knew Catherine could go a little far. She could be power-hungry, and all Rebecca could think of was how vulnerable Edward had appeared. How lost on uneven footing he had been.
The wealthiest man does not look away from his most profitable venture.
He had sounded so forlorn to admit such a thing, and Rebecca hoped that Catherine saw him as more than an investment, if that was how his own family viewed him. She wanted to ask if Catherine truly liked him, or if she saw a goodfamily name and wealthy assets, a new, young earl that she could be the doting countess to.
She held her tongue, however. She didn’t need to sound as though she was accusing her friend of being fae, even if that had been Edward’s implied concerns.
“Ah, I see Lord Billy,” Catherine gushed. “I promised him a dance earlier!”
Rebecca was about to warn her about Lord Billy’s harsh, jeering ways, but Catherine had already rushed off, her giggle loud and overdone. Meanwhile, Mary was being spun around, her eyes wide and adoring on another lord who seemed to hold her affectionately.
Perhaps she is the quietest, but due to her soft nature, she might be the first of us matched.
When she looked up, another lord was there, ready to take her hand. “Lady Rebecca Bancroft, is it not?” he asked, emphasizing her father’s title.
“It is indeed, my lord,” she answered.
“Lord Patrick Tanner, the Marquess of Tanner. May I lead you in your next dance, Lady Rebecca?”
“You may.” She slipped her gloved hand into his, and walked onto the dance floor, but all she could recall was her offer to Edward of a dance should he require a break. She certainly did mean it, but she had a duty. A reason to be putting herself back on the dance floor over and over again. She could not let her family down, not like her father already had.
