Page 6 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
Cecil nodded a little reluctantly. “Of course I will do as you ask, Benedict. But I still believe what I said the other night. I think you would be far happier if you simply let all this go.
“I cannot,” Benedict replied in a low voice. “I cannot rest until I know what really happened on that day, and I have avenged it.”
Cecil shrugged. “Well, I am sure that you will do things your own way, as always.”
“Indeed I will,” Benedict said. “Now, let’s get a drink. I’m gasping with thirst.”
They began to make their way across the room towards the refreshment table. Benedict was not a vain man, but he knew that he and his friend were attracting attention as they crossed the ballroom. He had deliberately dressed in his finest jacket, with a new blue cravat that he had bought the previous day.
At least he no longer had to worry about money; that was a blessing in itself. And Cecil would attract attention and deference wherever he went, too, on account of his title and his family’s impeccable lineage. On more than one occasion, Benedict had heard Cecil’s father telling people that they could trace their family lineage all the way back to the Norman Conquest.
No such heritage for him, Benedict thought with a wry smile. But despite his obscure birth, he could feel the eyes of many young ladies on him, and their mothers’ too. He was fairly sure that no one knew who he really was, even if he were to be introduced to them by name. Who would even remember the name of a man who was the son of an estate manager, a mere servant?
All they saw was a well-dressed, well-connected man who represented the future; they were not remotely interested in his past, it seemed.
As a general rule, though, Benedict did not enjoy balls. He found the vast majority of society young ladies to be rather vapid and dull, and thought that many of the rituals of the ballroom and the dance floor were somewhat archaic and incomprehensible. But he knew that tonight, he had to go through the motions in order to achieve his goal.
And as he looked across the room and saw the Earl of Riversdale approaching them with determination, he realized that the time for going through those motions had already arrived.
“My Lord Chalmers!” The earl greeted Cecil with enthusiasm. “What a pleasure it is to see you here this evening. And this is…?” He looked curiously at Benedict.
Cecil bowed, then introduced Benedict. “This is my dear friend Mr. Benedict Fletcher.”
Benedict bowed too, keen to demonstrate that even though he did not have a title, he knew how to behave in public. “It is a great honor to be here at your ball, My Lord,” he said.
“You are most welcome,” the earl replied smoothly, then looked at Benedict again, a little more closely. “I do not believe that we have seen you much in Society of late, Mr. Fletcher?”
Benedict smiled. “I have been travelling in the Americas,” he replied. “I was meeting with some investors, and some very clever men involved in building the new railway system there. It was a most interesting experience, I can tell you.”
Benedict saw something in the earl’s face change as he answered his question. The people of thetoncould smell money, and it was an attractive scent for them, it seemed, despite the relative recency of Benedict’s acquisition of wealth.
“And you are considering investing, is that right?” the earl asked.
Benedict shrugged. “I have not yet decided,” he said, being deliberately evasive. “There are many other opportunities for investment to consider, both abroad and at home. I am resolved to take my time in making such an important decision.”
“Quite right too!” the earl replied enthusiastically, then looked around the room. “Now, I wonder if you might care to be introduced to my daughter, Lady Isabella? She was around here somewhere, I wonder where she can have got to…?”
Cecil glanced at Benedict and raised an eyebrow. Benedict looked away before his own face gave him away. He was not terribly interested in meeting the earl’s daughter, but it would of course be unforgivably rude of him to refuse.
“I would be delighted, My Lord,” Benedict said, and followed the earl across the room in search of the elusive Lady Isabella, leaving Cecil standing alone, with a look of amusement on his face.
***
“What a fascinating subject, Mr. Fletcher,” the young lady standing next to Benedict said, looking up at him through long eye lashes.
He forced himself to smile, although it was the last thing he felt like doing. He suspected that the lady… Miss Thompson, her name was, he thought, although he had met so many young ladies in the past hour that it would not surprise him at all if he had remembered it incorrectly, was not remotely interested in what he had just told her about the Act of Parliament that was being proposed for the building of railways in England.
But she was going through the motions, just like he was, because she could tell that he was rich, and she was looking for a rich husband.
Her brother, Lord Thompson, himself a viscount, stood next to her in a rather proprietary way. He coughed before speaking. “And how much do you think you might invest?”
Benedict raised an eyebrow at such a blatant attempt by the man to estimate his worth. “I have not yet decided,” he said flatly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and find my friend, Lord Grant. He is sure to be getting into all sorts of mischief without me.”
He bowed then turned on his heel and walked away, cringing a little at the last words that he had uttered. Of course Cecil would not be getting into mischief, and it probably sounded ridiculous to suggest that he would be.
But he could not exactly admit to Lord Thompson that he craved his friend’s company more than anything, after spending an hour being introduced to and then dancing with countless young ladies who had nothing of any interest to say, and were clearly only interested in his money.
He found the whole thing rather distasteful, and he was keen to progress with his plan to meet the baron. He had no idea, as yet, how he was going to exact his revenge, but he thought that when he saw the man who had brought about his father’s downfall, he would instinctively know what to do. But for that event to come about, he needed Cecil, and he could not see him anywhere.
